These hills roll out in great waves from
East to west as one great green splash
The clear streams in long steep valleys
All have tumbling waterfalls at nearly every drop
Small riffles will appear and if by magic
Trees, both great and small, crown each hill
Occasionally, even the clouds will join in
To create gracious pictures in forms that
Reflect some of our most treasured dreams
A train whistle will scream, now and then,
To invite you all to visit some faraway place
The farmyard supplies a medley of sounds
As a wildcat cries out of his loneliness here
The seasons bring along their own music
Autumn has the sound of bustling fallen leaves
While winter whistles a tune in the attic eaves
Spring has those swift moving fish that leap
And summer brings first chilling swim of the year
But the real attraction is that neighborliness
That clings to almost every Allegheny mountain home.
WORDS BECOMING OBSOLETE
Recently, courtesy of a puzzle Wonderword, I learned of some words slated to become obsolete or labeled archaic. I was shocked to find among the words listed those I knew well and still use. These include abate, ephemeral, facetious and even the less used, pallid.
Subsequent to this discovery, I came upon a quote from the Moon Tiger by Penelope Lively which speaks eloquently about why I mourn the dying off of words. She wrote in part, “We open our mouths and out flow words whose ancestries we do not even know. We are walking lexicons. In a single sentence of idle chatter, we preserve Latin, Anglo-Saxon, Norse, we carry a museum inside our heads, each day we commemorate peoples of whom we have never heard.”
This sentiment is why I am such a fan of etymology. Every word has a history—not just where it was born, but how influences shaped its latest form and use, and even why and how it first appeared in English. Such an adventure! It is like time travel, coasting unknown waters and encountering unknown civilizations.
But, according to the word puzzle mentioned above, some of these voyages are being closed to ongoing traffic like abandoned rail lines that once led somewhere people wanted to travel and did so frequently. I mourn this loss.
AUTHOR NOTES
GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby
“FOR NANCY” is included this week for National Book Lovers’ Day, August 9. The author wrote in a letter to her Poetry Robin friends, “reaction to a chance encounter with a reader, and our lovely chat. Her name, as you can see was Nancy.”
KALEIDOSCOPE –a series by Kathleen Roxby
“WORDS BECOMING OBSOLETE” continues the author’s series on the subject of the English language. This entry was inspired by a word search puzzle with the theme of words becoming obsolete. The author is a fan of this puzzle format which was originated by Jo Ouellet.
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby
“AFTER THE STORY ENDS” is included this week for National Book Lovers’ Day, August 9.
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.
Guidelines for submission:
SPLINTERS FOR AUGUST 2022
BURNT SIENNA
Baking in the corner
Of my crayon box,
Burnt sienna:
Warm as an Arizona summer,
As rich as redwood shearings,
A brown full of life,
A color for landscapes
Lit by a noon tide sun,
An Indian pony haltered and
Corralled in my crayon box.
[In August Garden]
In August garden
Shower of petals falling:
A rain of roses
My Allegheny Foothills
These hills roll out in great waves from
East to west as one great green splash
The clear streams in long steep valleys
All have tumbling waterfalls at nearly every drop
Small riffles will appear and if by magic
Trees, both great and small, crown each hill
Occasionally, even the clouds will join in
To create gracious pictures in forms that
Reflect some of our most treasured dreams
A train whistle will scream, now and then,
To invite you all to visit some faraway place
The farmyard supplies a medley of sounds
As a wildcat cries out of his loneliness here
The seasons bring along their own music
Autumn has the sound of bustling fallen leaves
While winter whistles a tune in the attic eaves
Spring has those swift moving fish that leap
And summer brings first chilling swim of the year
But the real attraction is that neighborliness
That clings to almost every Allegheny mountain home.
AUTHOR NOTES
GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby
“IN AN AUGUST GARDEN” is included this week for Great Outdoors Day, August 4.
REFRACTIONS –a poem by Robert Roxby
“MY ALLEGHENY FOOTHILLS” speaks of the author’s childhood home. It was first published in Reflections on a Lifetime.
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby
“BURNT SIENNA” was written as a part of the author’s collection “A Singular Prism.” The author was inspired by her memories of a box of crayons in 64 colors, of which this shade was a particular favorite. It is included this week for National Coloring Book Day, August 2.
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.
Guidelines for submission:
SPLINTERS FOR AUGUST 2022