Retreat Day 2

This is our moon and venus showing up on our second night of the retreat. :)
We had another beautiful and productive day: Sunshine and morning walks, coffee and breakfast and writing that brought us to laughter and tears and awe from the ability to create.
The process was the same as day 1: Morning pages(writing), breakfast,sharing, lunch, talk on and samples of chapbooks by Peggy and Diane, the assignment given by Lynne, writing, sharing. Tonight Bill made dinner for us: garbanza bean soup, salad, and cuban bread while we slaved away at our craft. Our chef AND the dinner was great. :)










We went on a tour of our property in the golf cart. Peggy found an old golf club of my brother, Bob's, that he used to practice his swing with in the back yard when he was here. So, that's a precious find for us. Poor Lexi suffered through another day of neglect and inattention.










Dessert was at the bon fire Bill made for us. We made smores and talked and talked and talked some more. We went into the hot tub, and talked more. Some might think we'd run out of things to say but, truthfully, there just isn't enough hours in the day to say all that needs saying. LOL
We just finished gathering around as those who wanted to read from some of the chapbooks Diane and Peggy brought to share. One of the poems was from the viewpoint of a dog. One about buttholes and danglies we are still laughing about. These readings gave us lots of ideas for further writings or chapbooks of our own.


What a wonderful day. This has been another day of great writing as well. We are all really pleased by the progress we are making and the bonding of these women who are Skywriters.












My poem written from Dolly's prompt of memorable meetings or moments:
Bill

I know what they say about love at first sight
that it doesn’t happen in real life, it’s a wive’s
tale or some woman’s dream. That’s when I
say, have I got a story for you.

His hair was sandy red, he’d later tell me brown
I saw him that first day at Zayre’s Discount Store
as I was introduced to the man kneeling in the toy
aisle sorting and stacking products for sale.

His corduroy slacks were a tawny color, he’d later
tell me they were his favorite pair, they were stretched
at the knees and made a contrast on that cold slate
tile of the aisle where I found him that first day.

His shirt was an awful mustard color, he’d tell me later
it was a beige polo, some girl told him looked good
with his eyes. That shirt was well worn but clean, it fit
his body well, a body I sensed more than I saw.

His eyes were illuminating, brown with gold flecks, he’d later
tell me they were hazel and deny their appeal. When he
looked up at me, and I down at him, I thought my heart
would explode, I’d never felt such a blow.

His smile ambushed me; he’d later tell me it was crooked
I didn’t expect the results of that smile. My body felt
the sensations of a roller coaster when I was afraid
of speed and the dizzying heights.

He stood at the introduction, took my hand in his, he’d say
he had to touch me right then. The moment my hand
touched his huge callused one, I heard it as clear
as day. This is the man I’m going to marry floated
into consciousness, then became a tidal wave.

He asked me for a date several days later, he’d say it was
right away. I said no so many times but he was the persistent
kind. I was in a relationship, I’d tell him without conviction,
he’d say if you’re not married, I’ll keep trying.

He did stop asking, he’d say he thought I was a snob
so I had to make the next move.
I broke if off with Phil, told Bill I’d go out
we went to the Florida State Fair.

He’s changed in thirty-nine years; he’d say I have too
but the love it just grows and grows. I’m fatter, he’s
wrinkled, we don’t have the same energy, our minds
aren’t what they used to be.

But if I have the choice; if the past has anything to do
with now, I’ll hang on for thirty- nine more.
Holding hands and sitting close, sharing stories of our day
thinking about what new adventure we’ll try.

Judy Roney
February 26, 2009