November is a special month for me because it is my birthday month, thus a time of celebration. This year, friends and I feted the occasion with champagne and hazelnut cake. And, of course, Thanksgiving Day is one of my favorite days of the year. To consciously honor those we love, and our country in general, is a wholesome act. It warms our own hearts and the hearts of those around us. Gathering with family and friends over a sumptuous turkey dinner with dressing, mashed potatoes, and gravy, delicious side dishes, and pecan or pumpkin pie is a comfort and a pleasure. While the temperature outdoors descends, the warmth rising around us is palpable.
During November this year, I was busy writing a paper. I belong to a group in which members present a bi-annual 35-minute talk. Since I am becoming more involved in the local poetry community, I chose to write about five women poets: Ann Bradstreet (1612–1672), Phillis Wheatley 1753–1784, Edna St Vincent Millay (1892–1950), Louise Glück (1943–2023), and A. E. Stallings (1968–present). The only one I had previously studied was Edna St. Vincent Millay. Researching their lives and work was very satisfying. Understanding their personal reactions to the periods in which they lived made me think deeply about my own education (which certainly could have contained more information about talented women) and my own path through life. I gave my talk, “Spotlight on Five American Women Poets,” on Zoom for the group on December 4, 2025.
Now that it is December, I am enjoying a gorgeous white poinsettia that a friend sent me, the blossoming of holiday lights around town, the bustle of people shopping on the mall, and joining friends for holiday brunches. A highlight of this past week was local poet Valerie Szarek’s CD release party and sobriety celebration on December 4th at the Junkyard Social. It was a truly heartwarming event resplendent with poetry, flutes, drums, and singing. If you are interested, you can check out Valerie’s website: https://poetval.com/poems/
I wish all my readers a Happy Holiday Season and a Wonderful New Year!
My Writing Goals for 2025
- Continue to develop my poetry and connections with other poets:
BWA Poetry Circle: I hosted the BWA Poetry Circle in November. Veronica Patterson presented on: Where in the World? Veronica Patterson received Individual Artist Fellowships from the Colorado Council of the Arts in 1984 and 1997 and has had residencies at the Ucross Foundation, Hedgebrook, and Rocky Mountain National Park. Veronica is a graduate of Cornell University, the University of Michigan, and the University of Northern Colorado. She also holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Warren Wilson College. Veronica was named as the first Poet Laureate of Loveland, Colorado, in 2019 for a two-year term. Her books include: Sudden White Fan, & it had rained, Thresh & Hold, Swan, What Shores?, How to Make a Terrarium, and others. Her reading was engaging, and a good discussion followed. Then, she suggested that we write a poem about how to do, fix, or cook something. Here is the poem I wrote during the session:
How to Tame a Squirrel
First, put a drink on the deck table.
Next, add a plate of crackers.
Don’t forget a napkin.
Select a chair facing the lawn and trees.
Sit quietly at the table.
Watch patiently.
When you see a squirrel, take a cracker and munch it.
Drop a square of cracker on the deck.
Don’t move.
Don’t blink.
Oh no, you blinked, the cracker is gone.
Columbine Poets: I attended four Saturday meetings of the Columbine Poets. I enjoyed Anita Jepsen’s presentation on “Spanish Language Poets”. The online Zoom presentation on the rondeau form led by Lynne McNamara was exceptionally well done. I wrote my second rondeau. Ricardo J. Bogaert-Alvarez presented a workshop on the Romantic Tanka, which was fun and informative. I also attended an online Zoom Critique Group and received helpful feedback on my work.
Cannon Mine Poets Group: I did not attend the Cannon Mine Poets group this month.
- Continue to make progress on my draft novels:
Finish my first novel and query agents (IW): I identified the “mirror moment” and developed a new idea.
Finish my second novel (G): I identified the “mirror moment.”
Continue to work on my third novel (PW): I thought about where I could place a “mirror moment.”
- Continue to develop a network of kindred spirits in the world of writing and publishing:
Boulder Writers Alliance: I attended the BWA Happy Hour and enjoyed the conversation. I also hosted a luncheon for the changing of the guard as the Steering Committee will have new members. This is my last month as president of BWA, and the vice president’s last year as VP. Our replacements are perfect for the organization, and I wish them success in their endeavors. I will continue to host the BWA Poetry Circle monthly on Zoom.
Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers: I read the newsletter.
Women Writing the West: I watched some conference sessions online. I particularly enjoyed the presentation by James Scott Bell on the “mirror moment.”
- Document my writing progress through my blog and post it on the seventh day of each month, one blog per month in 2025:
Today is December 7, 2025. I am posting my twelfth blog for this year. It is hard to believe that another year has passed. My personal 2025 has been filled with friends and surprises. Having set myself the goal of being engaged in local literary circles, I can happily state that I attended many writing and poetry events, met new writers and poets, and produced new work. I look forward to the New Year and plan to write new goals for 2026.
For this December blog, I discovered the following Thomas Hardy poem. It uses exquisite words and images and alternating eight and six-syllable lines. My favorite line of the poem is “In blast-beruffled plume”.
A Poem for December
The Darkling Thrush
By Thomas Hardy
I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter’s dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.
The land’s sharp features seemed to be
The Century’s corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.
At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.
So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.
