The secret is to let the words simmer in a broth of irony and truth, the butterfly said to me. Add a dash of laughter and a single teardrop. Sprinkle two parts empathy, one-part fantasy and three tablespoons of humor. Make sure this is well mixed before continuing. This will offset the cup of tragedy and the full fat can of anger you’ll add near the end. Garnish with a leaf of love and a dollop of creamed life experience. Add passion and joy to taste. That, my dear chef, the butterfly said, is the secret to a poem that moves people.
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Postcard Stories Podcast – An Author Reading.
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4 Replies to “Poetry Stew”
This postcard seems so appropriate for today’s environment where we all could use a “poem that moves people”. I know it moved me! And on a day where I was shopping at 6 a.m. and finally done by 9:30 a.m., four stores later, you served up, in five magical lines, love and nourishment for my soul, which was badly in need of same. Much love, magical writer, much love.
Michelle, I’m so glad this story gave you some magic today. I know exactly what you mean. These are strange times and whatever we can do to make poetry, create something, and just revel in the fact that we have another day to live, we need to do it. Thank you so much for your constant support, my friend!
Incredibly wonderful! So glad that your podcast is turning out so well!! LOVE the picture, and the lovely, true words that the butterfly speaks. Thank you for sharing your gift 🙂
Thanks for all your encouragement along the way as I try out all these different ideas to get my stories out in the world. This image is one of my favorites…it has such a hopeful vibe. Something we can all use. Thanks for reading and commenting, Michele!
Word of the Year-2025
For my 2025 word of the year, I chose COURAGE. I know, it’s not the most original pick—but hear me out. Something about courage stuck with me this time, especially after watching a documentary on The Tragically Hip. For those unfamiliar, they’re kind of a Canadian thing. A band that
Hinterland is Real
They say seeing is believing. I didn’t know what that meant until that night. I was coming home late, later than I should, and I knew I was going to catch heck. Momma didn’t even pretend to be patient when me or my sister wasn’t home in time for dinner.
Deadly Mist
The mist crept closer, slithering across the boot prints she left behind on the soft, moist ground. She urged her legs to go faster over the uneven path. A leafless tree grabbed at the flying strands of her long silver hair as she ran past. They hung like shiny tinsel