Dancing under the Red Blood Moon

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Blood moon approaches

by Douz Moses

Be scared mortal,,,, for it approaches, 

The night be young, the spirits restless, 

The wind dances,, the trees echo,, 

Creatures of the night awaken, 

Deep dark voids are open, 

You can only gasp in terror,,

Your worst nightmares will come to pass,,,, 

As the sky slowly turns crimson, 

As the eye of the night opens,, blood red and hungry,, 

Freeing the wild magic chained,,, 

The blood moon approaches...

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1413325/bloodmoon-approaches

Pope Francis asks for our prayers.

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/pope-francis-quote-joan-reese.html

Men offered her dead presidents....

           http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/fancy-dancer-joan-reese.html

SCISSOR DANCE

By Joan Reese

Jukebox rocks, two dozen hardworking dusty men,

Bent elbows lean, Gold liquid flows

Glass rises, lit cigarettes talk.

She poses on a white piano bar,

scantily clad; slow moving, bending,

grinding, shaking, gyrating.

She blows kisses

to admiring eyes

with lustful wishes. 

Cleo's little girl dream

of being rescued

fades with each midnight hour.

She spins around, steelscissors held high.

Scissors reflect mirrored walls;

penetrates smoky beer air.

The scissor flashes down

cutting a hole above her heart.

Cleo offers the red satin circle,

Keepsake for the trucker who watches.

He believes, "She dances for me."

He offers up a dead President.

She cuts a hole here

cuts a hole there.

Soon she can start her own government.

It's hard to know where

first hole began or

last hole ends.

"The 'Amen!' of Nature is always a flower."

                 http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/white-flower-joan-reese.html

"What a desolate place would be a world without a flower!  It would be a face without a smile, a feast without a welcome.  Are not flowers the stars of the earth, and are not our starts the flowers of the heaven."

-  A.J. Balfour   

SKYTOP: Old World Charm in the Pocono Mountains

                           http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/art/all/all/all/landscapes

The placement of the Skytop Lodge at the base of West Mountain in the Pennsylvania Pocono Mountains is perhaps the best indication that this grand resort has always been inextricably linked to its natural surroundings-and the 30 miles of hiking trails weaving through the 5,500-acre site merely reinforces that fact. Even the 18-hole golf course, where deer quietly graze, takes full advantage of the natural topography. 

The Dutch Colonial-style manor house overlooks Skytop Lake, boasting opulent views of the surrounding region from every direction and offering a wide array of outdoor activities for every season, from winter skiing to summer kayaking, since it opened in 1928. The full-service resort has two pools (one indoor, one outdoor), lake swimming, seven tennis courts, an award-winning golf course, and a sporting clays shooting range. Experts are on hand to provide instruction in golf, fly-fishing, and shooting with special kid's activities organized each summer and the lodge's own naturalist leading hikes through pristine wilderness areas. Guests in the main lodge stay in comfortably furnished country-style rooms. The "Skyview Spa" located on the lodge's fifth floor opened in the summer of 2003 and offers a full complement of salon and spa services.

http://www.skytop.com

Room 803, by the sea is meant for me.

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/room-812-joan-reese.html

Room 803

My home away from home

My seaside place,

Twice the size of my everyday space.

No Clutter, white walls;

Perfumed soap gift wrapped

Waiting for my return.

Sliding glass doors 

Overlooking  Atlantic ocean.

Sounds of the sea rock me asleep.

Ten blocks away, neon Casino lights.

My secret place; self- contained:

Restaurant, pool, movie theatre, gym.

I brought a lover once

His presence is long gone

Room 803, by the sea, is meant for me.

From my balcony I see a grand old  brick mansion.

Three stories high, freshly painted wooden shutters, 

Stain glass,wrap around balconies. Water-less fountain.

I spy the windows for signs of life.

A man enters a side door, only to leave soon after;

One out-side light burns all night.

I imagine a gray- haired lady lives there alone.

Her grandson checks on her everyday.

She knows Atlantic City in its hayday.

I want to drink a cup of tea with her and listen to her memories.

Did her family build the boardwalk; the steel pier?

Who was the love of her life? Is she happy still being here?

The gift of living long.

A treasure trove: landmark moments.

It only takes a listening ear to bring them back to life.

My grandmother Eva, born in Atlantic City, 1920.

Great grand parents, Banford, left England, settled by the sea.

Atlantic Avenue where they lived, I walked by in wonderment.

I imagine a gray- haired lady who lives alone in the mansion

Holds the keys to my family’s past. 

If only we could have a cup of tea.

I discovered a life to claim as mine....

Intervening Rivers

 by Joan Reese

Prana flows through me like springtime,

Prussian blue glass jewels the coral sand.

I discover a life to claim as mine,

In a space of grace beyond time.

I bathe in Dead Sea salt and Spanish lime,

By candlelight Amadeus plays a baby grand.

In a space of grace beyond time,

I discover a life to claim as mine.

Crystal stairs illuminate the climb,

Old souls are close at hand.

I discover a life to claim as mine,

In a space of grace beyond time.

Dreams conceived in my prime,

Strong in faith, I stand.

In a space of grace beyond time,

I discover a life to claim as mine.

Summer on 42nd Street New York City 2015

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/summer-on-42nd-street-joan-reese.html?newartwork=true

Inspirational quote from Jonathan Livingston Siegel

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"Each of us is in truth an idea of the Great Gull,    

  an unlimited idea of freedom.”

by Richard Bach

Beautiful Day Out in Easton, Pennsylvania

75 Miles from New York City

Sometimes you need to get out of the big city and breathe fresh counrty air.

Lost River Caverns

 An adventure through Lost River Caverns, nature's underground wonderland. A guided walking tour lasting 30 to 45 minutes covers approximately 1200 feet of paved walkways that are well lighted. The temperature in the caverns is a constant 52 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius) so a sweater or jacket is advisable and the walkways are often wet so walking shoes are also advised. Bring your camera too! There's a lot to discover in this magical land of crystal formations where the Lost River flows.

http://lostrivercaverns.com

National Canal Museum

Ride along the peaceful Lehigh Canal as your barge is guided by two Mules (no, it is not a burden to them. As your experienced guide will tell you, they actually love this adventure). The scenery is lush and thick, the air smells sweet and it is peaceful, tranquil and calm. A wonderful feeling if you are getting a bit too fed up with the big city life and rushing.  Beautiful, panoramic views and a wonderful lake with crystal clear water. The museum is quite small but also interesting. Worth the travel.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Canal_Museum

Easton Open Air Farm Market

The Saturday Open-Air Market operates 9:00 am – 1:00 pm, rain or shine in Centre Square. Saturday May 2nd – Saturday November 21st 2015

                                        http://eastonfarmersmarket.com/saturday/

It's all in the Kiss!

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/the-kiss-joan-reese.html?newartwork=true

                           http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/240350

Let me tell you something darling....

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/juicy-red-apples-joan-reese.html?newartwork=true

                             http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Laurence_Dunbar

Yellow Tulips make me want to paint...

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/yellow-tulips-joan-reese.html?e

Tulips

BY A. E. STALLINGS

The tulips make me want to paint,

Something about the way they drop

Their petals on the tabletop

And do not wilt so much as faint

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/236864

Irish Pub and Inn "Taste of old Atlantic City"

http://www.theirishpub.com    Hope to see you soon! Owner - Cathy Burke  

    

 164 St. James Place @ the Boardwalk Atlantic City, New Jersey 08401

Do we build walls to keep people out or people in?

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/wood-and-wall-joan-reese.html

Art is created from light and shadows!

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/light-and-shadow-joan-reese.html?newartwork=true

The Best Accessory is a Smile!

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/garden-smile-joan-reese.html?newartwork=true

Springtime in New York

I Love New York City in The Spring!

                                   Poem by Claude McKay           Photographs by Joan Reese

My Journey to the Fountain of Youth

Saint Augustine is my favorite city in Florida, so far.  I love the Spanish architecture and steep history of our country.  It is very easy to get around.  You do not need a car. Old Town Trolley Tours is the best way to see the city, highlighting the best St. Augustine Attractions, with 23 stops and more than 100 points of interest. They have a tram that stops every 5 to 10 minutes to pick you up and take you to all the historical places in Saint Augustine.   You can also walk the town or rent a bike. They have a bus that takes you to the beach which is about 10 minutes away. There are plenty of restaurants with outdoor patios. I took a tour of Saint Augustine's distillery. They gave us all a sample of a drink called the "Florida Mule." It is made from Ginger syrup(or ginger beer) lime juice,  club soda and vodka. It is delicious!
St. Augustine, the nation's oldest city, also holds the distinction of being one of the nation's most charming.  Known as the "Ancient City," Saint Augustine is located between North East and Central East Florida and is convenient to Jacksonville, Orlando, and Daytona airports. North Florida boasts a year-round mild climate perfect for strolling Saint Augustine's delightful historic district, with its cobblestone streets, quaint cafes, bars, unique shops and bed-and-breakfast inns. 

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/blue-peacock-joan-reese.html?newartwork=true                                                       

Experience the beauty of an early morning that slowly comes alive with locals and tourists setting out on foot to explore significant landmarks including the -Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park-Castillo de San Marcos-Flagler College-The Lightner Museum-St.George Street, City Gates, Old Village, Historic District, Bayview, and many more.
http://www.oldcity.com/what-to-do.php           http://www.oldcity.com/pages/st-augustine-restaurant-listings.php      http://www.oldcity.com/pages/complete-accommodations-listings.php    http://www.oldcity.com/beaches.php   http://www.oldcity.com/history-and-culture.php  http://www.oldcity.com/calendar.php  http://www.oldcity.com/camp-grounds-fish-camps.php           http://www.oldcity.com/historic-district.php

Kiddies love Blue-Eyed-Kitty!

                         http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/blue-eyed-kitty-joan-reese.html

 

A Kitten   Poem by Eleanor Farjeon

He's nothing much but fur

And two round eyes of blue,

He has a giant purr

And a midget mew.

He darts and pats the air,

He starts and cocks his ear,

When there is nothing there

For him to see and hear.

He runs around in rings,

But why we cannot tell;

With sideways leaps he springs

At things invisible -

Then half-way through a leap

His startled eyeballs close,

And he drops off to sleep With one paw on his nose. 

Sleep Before Midnight

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/venus-illuminations-joan-reese.html

Sleep before Midnight

by Joan Reese

Hot chamomile tea, sipped from rose colored porcelain cup

Quiets my nerves, ensuring a deep sleep.

Rain drops beat windowpane like a steel drum.

Lighting cracks, slicing open my unconscious.

Departed souls wordless influence;

Their presence feels like Florida august sun.

My Egyptian cotton sheets scented with Channel No. 5

Holds a treasure trove of dreams.

Woke up and found a poem on my pillow,

The color of lake mist rising.

Wrapped the poem around me like a thick down comforter,

Strengthening me for the daily race…

When circumstances force us to change....

“When one door closes, another door opens; but we so often look so long and regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us.”

Alexander Graham Bell

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/an-open-gate-joan-reese.html?newartwork=true

On March 26, I have just returned from a ten-day trip. I thought I'd get a bite to eat and come home and rest. I walked down East Seventh Street in the East Village, where I live; turned the corner and started to walk up St. Mark's place.  I heard a huge blast: It sounded like two Mack trucks smashing into each other.  People started to run towards the blast, I didn't, I knew whatever it was it was bad.

 I walked back to my apartment and called a friend who told me to hurry, pack a bag and get out of there. While I was packing, the police rang my bell and told me to vacate. I looked out the window it was smokey and the smell reminded me of 9/11. We lost three buildings that day and over a hundred people lost their homes and two people lost their lives.  Many times I have complained about how small my apartment is and the fact that I have to walk up four flights to get to it.  Now, I'm thankful I have a roof over my head and I pray that the people who lost their homes will be helped to find new ones. This showed me that it doesn't matter how old you are or what your circumstances are in life you never know what tomorrow will bring.   So, I try to live my life to the fullest and not sweat the small stuff. 

Dorothy Parker you deserve more than one perfect rose!

Dorothy Parker is one of my favorite female poets. I adore her short, viciously humorous poems.

A Perfect Rose  by Dorothy Parker

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.

All tenderly his messenger he chose;

Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet -

One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;

'My fragile leaves,' it said, 'his heart enclose.'

Love long has taken for his amulet

One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet

One perfect limousine, do you suppose?

Ah no, it's always just my luck to get

One perfect rose.

http://joan-reese.artistwebsites.com/featured/juicy-red-roses-joan-reese.html

Snowflakes from my window

  Snowflake

A fragile winter butterfly 

Flutters from the sky 

 So soft and yet her heart

 Is cold and made of ice 

But if I warm it 

She will melt and die 

poet - Elaine George

O The Sea, The Beautiful Sea

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For whatever we lose ( like a you or a me)

It's always our self we find in the sea.

-E.E. Cummings