July 31, 2015

goodbye, july


We had a little love affair, you and I,

lazy days and sultry nights,

with extra time

to enjoy each other’s company.


I’m going to miss you, July,

but I’ll always remember

our month of smiles.




July 29, 2015

the lace of light beneath the poplar tree

And the trill of cedar waxwing, waiting.

Elderberry promises and grasshoppers, whirring.

A washed-out too-hot sky

above a jungle of my own making.

Leaves whisper-weaving tall tales

into the story of summer’s progression.




July 27, 2015

lazy lobelia

lobelia, summer, flower, lazy

Summer’s heat has arrived, a bit late and slightly disheveled.

Tomatoes begin to grow, mosquitoes rule the land,
and the garden fades from peak to tattered.

I read and I write and sit beneath the sky.

July has been the most social month
I’ve had in a long time.

My mind seeks the quiet place of August,
the too-hot, too-tired, used-up shadows,
where there is still time to bloom
if you can take the sun.

Lobelia and zinnias and

The bold flowers.

We’ll grow together.




July 24, 2015

morning kisses…

and dew drop earrings

gentle breezes

and moonlight

casting shadows

on the path

of summer’s





July 22, 2015

summer, squared


time, divided


life and love

work and leisure

bloom and wither

song and silence


hope, multiplied




July 20, 2015


and big-hearted

July 17, 2015

painting poems in fields of glory

beneath a sky that knows no bounds


wishing you a weekend filled with light




July 15, 2015

all in a day’s work

open and bloom

breathe and expand

exalt and embrace





July 13, 2015

pretty in pink, again

In a morning already hot and filled with sunshine.

We take what we get this year, every other day seems to be rainy, but I spent much of the weekend outside beneath the sky and the crazy dueling song of two mockingbirds.

Solace and solitude for a slightly tired soul.

I read for nine hours Saturday, outside in the shade and then inside late into the night. It was an escape into another world, one I would never want to live in, but a fabulously told story just the same: The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah. I love a book that removes me from my life and transports me to another, a book that lets me believe, even for a few short hours, that I have traveled somewhere new.

And I love these mornings filled with open windows and happy birds, bare feet and tea with roses.


Wishing you a week filled with love.










July 10, 2015

gentle as a softly falling rain

comes the bloom of change

and the blush of age

and the sweet silent smile

of remembering






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© Copyright 2010-2015

All text and photographs are
the original work of Kelly Letky, unless otherwise noted. All rights reserved.
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I can be contacted at bluemusejewelry(at)gmail(dot)com

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