First I want to apologize to anyone who posted a comment last week, but doesn’t see in the comment section.  I had a problem with someone who was posting very long anti-Catholic rants, ever day. When I marked his comments for deletion wordpress also deleted at least two other comments, one by Ric and another by Annie.  Since I have marked these rants as spam, instead of delete, I have not seen any more comments from him.  I hope this problem won’t re-occur and apologize to anyone whose comment was deleted.

This month is National Poetry Month, and I subscribe to getting a poem a day from,

One of the Poems is Fireflies, by Fred Chappell, posted below.

It brought back memories from my childhood, of chasing after fireflies, imagining they were faeries.  They are actually male beetles, signaling for a mate, trying to be Elvis, not Tinkerbell.

I still have an active imagination, except now it’s being Sir Galahad’s grandfather, or an all-star athlete, in the Sr. Slow Pitch League, or Elvis, if he lived to be old enough collect social security.  🙂

I am interested in any childhood fantasies you would like to share.

Fireflies by Fred Chappell:

The children race now here by the ivied fence,
gather squealing now there by the lily border.
The evening calms the quickened air, immense
and warm; its veil is pierced with fire. The order
of space discloses as pair by pair porch lights
carve shadows. Cool phosphors flare when dark
permits yearning to signal where, with spark
and pause and spark, the fireflies are, the sites
they spiral when they aspire, with carefree ardor
busy, to embrace a star that draws them thence.

Like children we stand and stare, watching the field
that twinkles where gold wisps fare to the end
of dusk, as the sudden sphere, ivory shield
aloft, of moon stands clear of the world’s far bend.

I love this song about a childhood of chasing fireflies, written by Lori McKenna, sung by Faith Hill: