I have wanted for some days to write a few of many thoughts about the inauguration poem, “Praise Song for the Day,” by Elizabeth Alexander; but I have been busy with life here in Cyprus. My definition of poetry is “the distillation of language.” Robert Frost said, “A poem should begin in delight and end in wisdom.” Michael…
Category: Culture
A Day in Cyprus…
Yesterday we drove to the village of Koilani that is just minutes from our village, Trimiklini. The mountains are full of quaint villages like these and touring them never gets old. The ancient stones, the cobbled streets, the huge terracotta water pots reflect simpler days and life that was much harder for the Cypriots who…
haiku: ancient terracing
ancient terracing on the mountainside, every inch of land precious
Home-made Chicken and Noodle Soup
In a frosty, pre-dawn inspiration, I was moved to make home-made chicken and noodle soup this morning. We just finished a piping hot portion and were licking the bowls for more. Recipe for Egg Noodle 1 cup flour 1 large egg 1/2 of 1/2 eggshell of milk Mix ingredients. The dough will be sticky. Roll…
Cold and Wet
It is cold and rainy. Cyprus desperately needs the rain, so no complaining here. I just can’t warm up though. I need to start moving. I am in the mood for homemade chicken and noodles, and it is a perfect day for it. Maybe I’ll warm up in the kitchen…
The Rules are Different
After traveling for about 24 hours with flying time and layovers altogether, I was glad to board the last flight into Larnaka, Cyprus. To my knowledge we were the only Americans on the flight. And this is when you really leave your culture, homeland, and flannel comforts behind… You forget about being an American at all, or a…
A New Journey Begins
We are in Frankfurt with a 12-hour layover which has allowed us to rent a day-hotel and catch up on a little sleep. This place is nestled in a quaint German suburb of Frankfurt. There are so many things I love about Germany. It is great to be here. Currently the three of us are…
haiku: night light
the Ancient of Days breathed into the dark vastness and hung a night light
haiku: icing
glorious winter frosted branch and leaf, icing on fresh-baked cupcakes
Bonnie Saul Wilks 