Posts Tagged ‘joy’


She lives in earth tones –

soft colors of

amber and sage

brush across her arms

on terracotta mornings

and lavender afternoons.


Bracelets of seashells

on pink ribbons

play on her wrists,

her celadon skirt

swaying like the tresses

of the willow

where she dances

in the garden –




©  2019  Betty Hayes Albright


Sorry for being way behind reading blogs. 

Hope to catch up with everyone soon! 💚



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I’d fly on white wings,

one of joy

one of sorrow


on crosswinds


and below

to mate

in mid-flight

with a prayer.



(c) 1990, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright


(A re-post from 2011)


My thoughts and condolences are with Santa Fe, Texas today, and with all those affected by this most recent school shooting. When will it stop?

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I want to hear the rain

dancing hearty on the roof,

a tappety-tum of eager drops

to quench the thirst

of those who wait

for something more

than these anemic showers

that dry before

they hit the ground.


I want to hear

a thunder rain

sent from the gods

pounding out a crazy


in the night,

a joyful, lusty roaring rain

so loud

it wakes me up.


© 2016 Betty Hayes Albright 

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(a re-post)


And so I have gone down

to the salty, briny air

where the surf tumbles the sand

and the wind combs through my hair,

where the seagulls dip and squabble

and the pocket pools grow warm

and the starfish nuzzle rocks

as the tide begins to turn,

where the sun lights through each wave

as it surrenders to the sea

and the sky steams into purple

and the night spits stars to me.


(c) 1992, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright

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Without Roots

(re-post from 2 years ago)


South winds

(c) B. Albright 2011

push the great fir

to mortal degree,

its many arms thrashing

in dark circles,

its body twisted in deep groan.

And I would be that bird

 perched white at the top –

 I’d play the storm

 swaying in brave arcs

 without roots.


(c) 1995, 2013  Betty Hayes Albright

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No Dark Side


Eros never sleeps

in pitch dark rooms.

He wakens

in a roll of laughter,

pulls us to a clearing

in the forest

where he strokes our cheeks

and gives us up

to dance.

When life exhales

Eros grins:

there is no dark side.


(c) 1996, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright 

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Seaweed breezes

lose themselves

in her long hair.

She dances over sharp rocks

to the beach,

twirls and spins

in pirouettes,

her long skirt swirling circles

in the sand.


© 1995, 2012 Betty Hayes Albright 

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(Re-post from last August – for lack of anything new. 🙂 )




are free flow

like liquid Jello,



filling any form.

Why must we chill them,

make them set?


(c) 1982, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

Original pencil drawing (c) 1965

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1957, trip to California



When I was ten,

all the rides

at Disneyland

could not compare

with that first sight,

that maiden rush

across the sand –

that first kiss

of the sea.


©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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(from 1976)


We can’t be held down,

we’re the ball bouncing back,

the unsinkable raft,

the bowl that won’t crack.

We can never be slain,

our core’s made of steel,

wherever we’re punctured

we readily heal.

Trample on us

and we’ll spring back to life –

we cut to the  truth

like an ever-sharp knife,

the magical candle

that cannot stop burning,

the inner child

who never stops learning.

Knock on our window’s

unbreakable glass,

mow us down, we’ll grow back

like invincible grass.

Light as a bubble

we can’t be detained,

we’ll rise towards the light

and ever remain.


©  1976, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

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