Painting Studio Walking The Rain By Stephen Craig Rowe

Walking rain
November drizzle wept damp gray

sky all

the day and night.

Fog longing soft shadows
nearly apeare

then whisp away wrapped

in a cloak of swirling

leaves as an

old ghost whould seem to be,

and then not. 

Mind your step the walk is slick, take my arm and take care.

It is so quiet in the fog and drizzle she said.

The fallen leaves have a unique scent this time of year.  Or is it just this night?

Perhaps.

The lamp post glowed as the last roses faded in the fog and the rains came.

As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

Painting Studio All Saints Day Thank You For The Rose by Stephen Craig Rowe

Are you sure that all of the Saints were in your dreams?

No, I only pray for them.  She looked at her hands, shook her head and said.

Thank you for the rose.

As she spoke I took a drink and my thoughts were of the garden for a moment and of all the Saints.  The half moon rising above the Painting Studio this first day of November.  Then my thoughts turned into the folds of the rose and time spent in the garden this afternoon.

Are you still with me?

Yes, was just thinking about the last roses, fall, stuff like that and all of the Saints.

Are they with you?  Or what?  She said and,

I don’t know

So much of it is like poetry, grace and a song half sung

Walking is healing.  Walking with you and the roses is sweet.

Thank you for the rose.

Thank you. 

I took to the garden and the ridge free and alone for a talk with all of the Saints and a prayer on the first day of November.  As ever be well

 

 

 

Rose On The Run, A PAINTING STUDIO Poem by Stephen Craig Rowe

     Wait all the winter long for spring soft winds, rains and green in the warm for the roses.

      The colors and scents seem to close a door to the world, yet open a window.  Time in the garden, small though it is tends to take one away from the trial and strife of the day to day.

     Or so it seems to me as I get into the roses and day to day see the roses run in life from cold winter roots, tiny shoots that become buds and blossom in late spring and summer.

    There free and alone all the chit chat bird song and sound is absorbed  by the images of summer as the roses are on the run.

     Roses on the run, ever a joy.  Here today and ever in memory.

     Wonder not how sweet the blessing, but take and behold the wonder of the poetry in the fold of a rose.

     Rose on the run no one can hold you forever.  For we are also poetry held in the fold of the rose.  There but for a moments grace we hold each other in the reality of a sacred image never frozen in time, for time is all time. 

     Rose on the run, petals in the sun rain on your brow smile as sweet as summer sounds spoken in silence against a screen door slapped shut in the wind.  Spring held taught then wrap the buzz of night around you.  None of the ghosts speak but rather sneak in your sheets and surround dreams tossing and turning as real as real is.  In dreams as a rose on the  run and reflections in the  wine. 

     As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe     

Painting Studio First Rose Bloom In The Small Garden 2011, by Stephen Craig Rowe

     The first rose of this year recently bloomed in my small garden and I had to take camera to the yard in order to share some of these images and words.  Am sure some are thinking, “ old Stephen is a bit nuts about his roses and into his cup of gin again”.  Fine, for this is true and would not have it any other way because of the joy found and seen in the first rose of spring as she flowers, then graces my eyes with a silent poetry, a visual affirmation that the artist is alive, well, and in tune with nature as much as one may be in the miracle of life in the all.  Or something like that as one re creates images that capture moments the painter/poet desires to share. 

     There one may begin to understand my personal feeling for the first rose of spring, for there seems to be a light within the flower that displays an energy as if the rose gives light as well as takes light.

     Though only a simple painter and sometimes bad poet there is a  profound beauty in the fold of petals of the first rose of spring.  As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

Stephen's Painting Studio And The New Novel SECRET GRACES Written By Kathryn Magendie And Published By Bell Bridge Books

     Early this month my dear friend Kathryn Magendie the author celebrated the release of SECRET GRACES the novel that is Book Two of the Graces Saga.  Book One of the Graces Saga is TENDER GRACES.  I can not count how many times I have read TENDER GRACES savoring each and every word while awating the release of Kathryn's second major novel SECRET GRACES.  The author was kind enough to send me a copy of the new novel that arrived by post on Friday the sixteenth of April.
     I was thrilled that Kathryn signed my copy of SECRET GRACES and honored to see my name in the dedication.  She also wrote a brief note on the dedication page informing me that I was also a character in the novel.  As I read with a smile, good glad tears came to my eyes for now I was part of The Graces Saga. 
     It is such an honor that now I feel that I must write, publish and dedicate my first novel to Kathtryn.  Am smiling as I write and Kathryn while you read this post I hope you are smiling too.
     Kathryn Magendie is a well known short story author.  She is also co-editor and publisher of The Rose & Thorn Literary Ezine and a very dear friend who I shall cherish forever.  TENDER GRACES and SECRET GRACES are published by Bell Bridge Books .  Both novels are a must read.
     Kathryn,  thank you.  Thank all of you and as ever be well.
Stephen Craig Rowe
    

ROSES AND RAIN

Rosas e chuva, o amor ea primavera. Como poderia ter um amor sem rosas e os pensamentos de primavera? Alguns podem amar sozinho sem rosas e alguns podem amar sozinho sem mola macio arrefecer chuvas chill para a ecologização e contentamento. Como eu


andou a névoa cinzenta na cabeça fletida orações húmido passos

chamou-me de volta para sombras. Luz em profundidade

e no tranco caminharam as palavras. Pensamento as palavras que a poesia andou com

mim.

Em uma curiosa fundir de arte, auto, um lugar calmo no Todos e

Eu queria fugir.

Para mergulhar na rosas e amor, para a neblina ea ecologização

para as estações do ano e ver que apenas sonhos

Sonhos vista

uma rápida imagem de um tempo um pouco como um poema

ou oração

silencioso gasto na névoa.

As árvores no cume parecia onda, um pouco como se a brisa suave, o drizzle menos de um calafrio, e eu corri para a chuva

Já de regresso.

Como sempre estar bem, com amor,

Stephen Craig Rowe

ROSES AND RAIN

Roses and rain, love and spring. How could one have love without roses and thoughts of spring? Some may love alone without roses and some may love alone without spring soft cool rains chill to the greening and glee. As I


walked the grey mists in head bent prayers damp steps

drew me back to shadows. Light in depth

and in stride walked the words. Thought the words as the poetry walked with

me.

In a curious meld of art, self, a quiet place in the All and

I wanted to run.

To dive into the roses and love, into the mist and the greening

into the seasons and view dreams that only

Dreams view

one fast frame at a time rather like a poem

or prayer

silent spent in the mist.

The trees on the ridge seemed to wave, a bit as the breeze became soft, the drizzle less of a chill, and I ran into the rain

Ever to return.

As ever be well, with love,

Stephen Craig Rowe

Spring In The Midwest Sunday Morning Snow

As I slept in dreams of sweet spring rains and warm winds giving depth to the greening
IT SNOWED ALL NIGHT LONG!
When I woke and parted the curtins
there was a smile as my eyes took in the landscape draped in white.  Put on a pot of coffee and dressed to experience the quiet poetry of snow in my backyard.

As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

Spring and Signs of Life a New Day Turn Within And Without by Stephen Craig Rowe

Just the other day I was talking to a friend in Kokstad, South Africa about all manner of things as friends do talk about. The past, present, the now, and future. My current ills and healing and events in her part of the world. Then she asked me if I had any dreams. Before I could answer there was an activity on my street. Sirens and such three or four doors down about a flair up or whatever. I excused myself and went to the porch to snap a pic or two. It was all over before I knew it was about and the fire men were folding the hoses. Attention to detail is paramount to attention to flighty events. Though half a world away, I would rather be there than in the blind. In the dreams and in the hands and heart. There was a break in the clouds and was able to place my hands in the garden for some signs of life.

My thought was so beyond words. Then bent for some signs of life of last years roses and I was amazed

The greening and colors took me by

The Day Lily poking her head in my happy face! A good day is a long day in the light. As ever be well, With love, Stephen Craig Rowe
By the by, Tender Graces the Novel by Kathryn Magendie to be released in April is available for pre order http://www.bellebooks.com/books/TenderGraces.asp

COLD CREEK The Poem by Stephen Craig Rowe

Cold Creek

reflects

rust

colored

swaying reeds,

Pines,

Stars,

Mist swept

mountains

moaning

Ancient

Holy

songs

that

no

words can

tell.

Cold Creek

flow

Refresh

birdsong

doe

soft steps,

slip

stones

Banks ring

a

bright spark

of

Light

in

the

Water of Life.

Cold Creek

seep

from the

Heart

of

Earth

and

grace the

Brow

of

Life.

As ever be well, with love, Stephen Craig Rowe

One may pre order a copy of Tender Graces The novel by Kathryn Magendie by following this link http://www.bellebooks.com/books/TenderGraces.asp

On The Road Again With Apture and you

PAINTING STUDIO UPDATE:

Work has been busy and things a bit hectic as I am on the road to Danville again. I report at 11:am on February 25th at the Danville, Illinois Veterans Administration Medical Center for surgery at 1:pm on that day. The surgeon will perform a Left Colectomy. I will be in the hospital for five to eight days then at home in recovery for six to eight weeks.

I was not going to blog about this but some of you may have been wondering about where I have been and am about to go. Now you know.

My thoughts are of all of you, here there and everywhere. There is a comfort in the knowing and the space between the words that transends and extends understanding. As quiet as a brush stroke or the scratch of a pen. That bind the mind to poetry and grace. Yes, the white rose was grown in my little garden. Those are dew drops and not tears. I do have a new phone, Samsung Instinct that is like a little hand held computer. Way cool. Am sure to have time to figure out all of the features. In time. For time is all we have to be of the all. Oh yeah, United States Congressman Aaron Schock visited Jim's Steak House in Peoria last night, we talked a bit and he said that he would call when I was in the hospital.



A special thanks to Deborah Smith http://www.deborah-smith.com and  http://www.bellebooks.com/  for sending the sound trac from Tender Graces the novel by Kathryn Magendie http://kathrynmagendie.spaces.live.com/   to be released this spring by BelleBooks.

As ever be well, Stephen Craig Rowe