Month: June 2022

reflection

Stroke of Luck

Arlene
Photo by Paweu0142 Fijau0142kowski on Pexels.com

Stroke of Luck © Arlene S Bice

There were many times in my life when I was thankful for the stroke of luck that I made on a particular choice, turn in the road, or chose a horse to put my hard earned $2 on to win. As I got older and wiser and became aware of angels that looked after me and guides that made me aware of choices, and ancestors who whispered in my ear, I realized those times were not luck at all. They were synchronicity moments. Following my intuition had new meaning. The books that educated me were treasures.

Seeing a double, double rainbow filling the entire blue sky in International Falls on the Minnesota side of the Canadian border, was a vision to remember not for the pot of gold at the end of it but for the moment of what it was, a thing of breathtaking beauty. Seeing it was pure luck.

Early one afternoon on our return trip home, Angelo and I stopped at a K-Mart with only three cars in the large macadam parking lot. I was annoyed at him over some little thing that I don’t remember. We parted inside to look on our own. I didn’t buy anything, didn’t really look, and headed back to wait in the car when I looked up at the sky, stunned! I turned to go inside to find Angelo. He must see this, I thought. I didn’t see him anywhere. “Never can find I him when I want him,” I grumbled as I went outside to fill my eyes again where the entire sky was filled with a double, double rainbow!  I had never seen such a sight and knew I would not see it again in my lifetime.

There he was! He had been inside looking for me to see this glorious sight, gave up and came out again. We marveled together, marking the moment in time to always be treasured. Surely this entire incident was a stroke of luck. The annoying slight was instantly forgotten along with the camera tucked into the luggage somewhere. Good luck only goes so far.

Poetry

From a fun writing prompt: what do i see outside my window?

Arlene

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

Me & Dr. Seuss© arlene s bice

After dozing over a book at 3 o’clock

I came awake with a sudden shock  

drums were pounding loud and clear

pulsing the air, it made me fear

what was going on this lovely day

I leapt to the window to see what may

be causing such a fracas, be causing disarray

my eyes flew wide, my mouth fell away

it was a king being carried high above

the crowd was calm, no push or shove

neatly they walked, the queen was aside

on her own seat of pomp and pride

but this I cannot believe at all

not thrones, but toilets is what I saw

yes, yes, the crowd carried them too

seats of their own, all white, not blue

ahah! I declared to myself, I know that load

of toilets from Goodes Ferry Road

that disappeared some time ago, remember

toilets that hung on the trees even in December

it seemed like a zillion sat on the ground

lay upright and sideways all year ‘round

so this group of royals won the fame

it will be added to that reigning name

they absconded with the funds

and showed everyone their buns!

PS: there really was a large collection of toilets in a small wood on Goodes Ferry Road

Poetry, reflection, writing

From Simply Put…a collection of poetry

Arlene

WORDS, WORDS, WORDS

arlene s bice ©

I find myself calling on a word that

is lovely to say as it rolls around my tongue

tingles in my ear and bursts into the universe

on paper it turns the page into a bit of happiness

that I share with others that they may enjoy it, too

but I wonder

do other ears tire of hearing

the same old, same old words expected from me

when I open my mouth to speak, to astonish another

with a new idea, using the same old, same old words

excited as I am that I cannot call upon a word unused

often by me

so many words that I love to say;

delighted, sensuous, passionate, positive, synchronicity

words of a musical bent that sing in my head in the kitchen

fettucine, proscuitto, zuppa inglese, freschi, funghi, castagne

words that sound more promising on the Italian menu than

at the cafe

foreign words slipped into our language

may need practice; yet once you learn, say them

they become fun to form in your mouth even for one

who prefers to write than to talk, to listen to the rhythm

in the voice of someone else, to hear if they are using their

same old, same old words.

books, Poetry

Just Add Books

Arlene

Photo by M. Tpabnha at Unsplash

My Favorite Chair- arlene s bice(C)

Some may think a favorite chair

is one to sit in with comfort, where

perhaps you read a favorite book

nestled in a sunny, window nook

a chair in chintz, cheerily over-stuffed

with several pillows all plump and puffed

a chair passed down from great-grandmother

or maybe a relative of some kind or other

a chair all squeaky with groans as you sit at rest

wiggle your tush, to make a satisfying nest

ah, such a picture this all makes just for you

always ready to pick up a book, to start anew

but oh, no! that’s not what comes to mind for me

what I like, is a chair that suits me perfectly to a tee

it’s a chair piled high with wonderful books galore

waiting patiently for their turn to be read before

a new package of books appears at my open door.

Memoir, Poetry

Songs that linger in your mind. . .

Arlene
photo by Ri Butov from Pixabay

Jerry Vale Songs- arlene s bice

There are so many songs

each one brings back a memory

a treasure that still shines

reawakens

warm scenes of tenderness

love, dancing

two bodies as one

a song sung softly in my ear

in a sensuous Italian

being held close

desired and full of desire

days of long ago

still kept, to relive

store away

relive again

and again.

book review, horse racing, Ireland, European travel, Australia, Cairns horse racing,, travel

New review (glowing)on Running with the Horses

Arlene

I’m thrilled to share this glowing review with you:

The wide-ranging destinations — and atmospheres — of this latest literary journey of Arlene Bice’s were already inviting to me as I embarked on this book. I knew from previous experience that her memoir journeys always include what attracts and fascinates me: history, culture, human nature, discovery, synchronicity and, most especially, the mysterious and mystical.

The varied experience that has shaped her life, which she has approached with an open heart, gives her the gift of observing and listening with a kind and respectful wonder. This delighted curiosity helps immerse me in scenes and imparts a wonderful sense of place that feels both real and timeless.

I savored the vicarious travel here on several continents — destinations like Ireland and Australia, the Canadian wilderness, along with the down-to-earth perspective from bus rides with the locals to the ruins of Tulum, Mexico, or the landscapes of Tahiti.