April 23, 2014

blackbird fly {redux}


with your heart on your sleeve

and your trill shrill call

that echoes

off glass reflecting

water walls

your piercing stare

that holds no secrets

your chitter chatter

that says nothing at all


carry the seasons

on your shiny

black back

as one heavy load

that you never




a poem from 05/18/11



April 18, 2014

filling in the blanks

Because I keep getting lost in the Land of Busy, and this place, this space, keeps waiting, ever so patiently, for me to offer it a bit of attention. And each day I tell myself that this will be the day I get caught up, or get that thing accomplished, or this other thing started. And then it is bedtime and reading is my solace, and even that can’t keep my eyes open as long as I would hope.

The lawn (read: weeds) is slowly turning green and I feel myself slipping into spring clothes and bare feet, even though it’s still too early. Naughty kitten is in the same mode: deceived by the sunshine, he steps outside, but wants back in just minutes later when he realizes it’s not as warm as it looks.

A robin lands on the hydrangea bush outside my window that’s still dry and bare and brittle, and we stare at each other for a moment before she flies off with a bit of stem or grass for her nest, and I want to fly with her.

My gypsy spirit is tired of being shackled to a desk, a room, a ceiling. I want to run, to dance, catch fireflies at dusk. And then I remind myself to be grateful for the roof over my head, the nest I have, the garden I’ve grown. And of course, I am. Grateful.

But a gypsy spirit cares nothing for the rules of reputation, social graces, polite custom. She cares only for her freedom, and she fights me for it, daily. Mostly, I prevail. Only because necessity makes me stronger. But some days, no matter how hard I try, she wrestles my arm down until my wrist hits the table.

And then she dances, already on her way out the door.

I never tell her that every so often, I let her win.




April 16, 2014

winter white


it’s hard not to see snow falling through sunshine as pretty,

even if you are completely over winter.

77° one day, 28° the next

and this is the world we live in.

change change change

and beautiful

even as we cringe


April 11, 2014

purple haze


friday daze


April 9, 2014

a bird {redux}

never needs a map

always knows

how to get there from here

in straight lines

on soft breezes

through storms


endless days


with sunshine.


my map

draws itself

with a pencil

of hope

blunt tipped


somehow still



another poem from another april

wishing you a week filled with hope


April 4, 2014

pretty maids all in a row


Wishing you a Friday filled with smiles and sunshine.



April 2, 2014

a collage, of sorts {redux}

If my life were a scrapbook
it would hold angst and laughter,
memories and monument,
pauses and portent.

If my life were a scrapbook
there would be glue, but no glitter,
colors running through the days,
small words pasted in the margins.

If my life were a scrapbook
you would see plain and pretty
mingled together on each page.

If my life were a scrapbook you would find
love and tenderness, empathy and turmoil,
rage and ritual.

If my life were a scrapbook I would cozy up by the fire
and flip through my pages with longing.

If my life were a scrapbook
you would focus on the shiny bits
pull them off one by one
and line them up
to create your own picture.

If my life were a scrapbook
there would be buttons
but no bows
bones and long rivers
and hawks would fly through my pages.

If my life were a scrapbook there would be no end
just dozens and dozens of beginnings.

If my life were a scrapbook I would
scream with loud colors and
whisper to saints in the darkness.

If my life were a scrapbook
I would hide by the cover
and watch as your smile drew sunset.

If my life were a scrapbook
the lines would be blurred,
the message would be lost,
and the end would reveal
the portal of midnight.






April is National Poetry Month

I’m participating in NaPoWriMo over at mrs mediocrity with a poem a day for 30 days, so I thought I’d re-run a few poems that I’ve previously published here. This one first appeared in April 2010.

Happy Poetry Month!


March 31, 2014

big heart sun

Yesterday I went to my parent’s house for dinner, my two brothers and my sister were also there, as well as my niece. It was nice, we sat around and talked and joked and solved all the problems of the world. Well, okay, we didn’t actually solve them, but you know what I mean.

We talked a lot about the environment, and climate change (because we had yet another big snowstorm the night before), and poverty, and my niece’s recent trip to the Dominican Republic as part of her college experience, (she’s majoring in elementary education, and they spent a week there helping out in a K-2 school).

We all complained about this never ending winter, we all enjoyed the good food and each other’s company, we all enjoyed the simple pleasure of being there, together.

I drove home just as the sun was setting, big and round and orange on the horizon.

I only had my cell phone with me, so I didn’t get a great photo, but no matter. It was a good day, a good dinner, and a good enough photo of a sun that warmed my skin just enough to remind me that even with all this snow, spring really is here.

That sun just keeps rising and setting, always.

Bringing me home.







March 28, 2014

all the hope you can fit
on the head of a pin

Less than a week after starting my first tray of seeds, teeny tiny babies have poked their heads through the soil. This little petunia is smaller than a straight pin just now, a quarter inch tall, fragile, delicate, full of hope.

Yet this miniscule speck of color is enough to make me happy, simply because it’s green.

Each year I am amazed at this small miracle. A seed smaller than a speck of ground pepper will become a big mound of purple flowers by midsummer.

One of the little things in life that puts a big smile on my face.

Ordinary magic showing up yet again.

And as always, it’s everything, and enough.



March 26, 2014

still dreaming


green as it snows yet again

more time in a day

sunshine and windows open

the scent of lilacs

long walks in the woods

running through misty rain

morning tea in the garden

sundresses and sandals


dreams that feed me

through the last long days of

this foot-dragging winter


each one tasting of dessert




recent musings

places to follow me

Facebook Twitter RSS

Google + Pinterest Flickr

add me manually here

subscribe via email

enter your email & click ok

beautiful blogs

fun places to visit

you can also find me at:

and regularly here:


© Copyright 2010-2014

All text and photographs are
the original work of Kelly Letky, unless otherwise noted. All rights reserved.
Be kind, don't copy!

I can be contacted at bluemusejewelry(at)gmail(dot)com

My work appeared in:



join the fun


participating in


grab a button!