All Saints Day: Jeanne d'Arc

For All Saint's Day (Nov. 1), 

I've chosen to write of my patron saint, Jeanne d'Arc, 

whose spirit I've admired for her strength and perseverance. 

Jeanne d'Arc in Battle by Hermann Stilke (1803-1860)

Jeanne d'Arc's Death at the Stake  by Hermann Stilke (1803–1860)    

Jeanne d’Arc

Stalwart, spiritual,

she engages

an army

of anxious souls.

Her fate: rejection

inflamed 
by the ignorant

transporting her

to glorious praise

from Love’s Source.

Courage endures

through

fervent benevolence 

and truest devotion to God. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos  

To view a website devoted to Jeanne d’Arc:

 https://www.jeanne-darc.info/

Sweet Dreams (Codladh sámh)

Sweet Dreams (Codladh sámh)

Softly the trees sway
breezes steadily pulsating
plummeting my senses 
DEEP DEEp DEep Deep deep
into a serene, sensory 
serenade of sleep
slowly sifting
through sands of 
discernment
into a sea of dreams
where fantasy releases
the genesis 
of truth

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(My reading of this poem is on Pod-omatic. Just click HERE.)

The Mill

Long ago, a friend told me about this beautiful mill, located in Floyd County, Virginia. I found a picture of it in a history book and saw the serene beauty of this sight, so I took out my oil paints and painted my own version of the mill: Mabry Mill is its name. Below are two photos. One is a photo from Google Images. The other is my painting of the lovely Mabry Mill in Floyd County, Virginia. The poem revolves around this stalwart mill.

The 'melodious Lark' in the poem refers to Ralph Vaughn Williams' masterpiece, The Lark Ascending. You can hear the lovely melody if you click HERE. 

Photo of Mabry Mill, Virginia

 from Google Images

 

My painting of Mabry Mill, Virginia

                                             

The Mill

Quietly and peaceful

 the Mill does stand

in harmony with God's land,

and in its tranquil solitude

the melodious Lark 

sings its sweet etude. 

All the while, 

the Mill in steady repose sings: 

"I'll be here

as long as the wind does carry

His song through the realms of time. 

I'll be here for you ~ 

My love will ne'er weary

for your spirit 

inspires

my Joy. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem on Pod-omatic, click HERE.)

Aurora Borealis

When the local meteorologist suggested that we, in Connecticut, would be able to see the geomagnetic event, an Aurora Borealis, I thought, "Okay, I'll check it out." Well, I looked out my backdoor window, which faces northward, and there it was: a beautiful, pinkish maroon sky amidst the stars. My camera barely captured the view. This was exactly as I saw the sky in Connecticut:

Aurora in Western Connecticut, Oct. 10, 2024

Auroras in Pleasant Valley, New York, Oct. 10, 2024

Aurora Borealis

I search the evening sky to see

the stars staring back at me 

at their usual positions

in the heavenly firmament.

Then, my eyes, are they deceiving me? 

There it is... softest glow of pink and maroon,

enveloping a fluffy mass of light clouds.

It makes me wonder if another's eyes 

are viewing this heavenly sight,

a shared brilliance from stars and aurora.

I thank God for allowing me 

the glorious view of the rosy hue, 

this geomagnetic event:

Aurora Borealis. 

 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

 

Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan): 19th Century Awareness of Cultural Change

           

I took this photo of Sydney Owenson's memorial plaque on Kildare Street, Dublin, Ireland.

From pages 17-18 of my book: 

Revolutionary philosophy of the sixteenth through nineteenth centuries provides momentum for the transformation of consciousness, circuitous pathways of innovation and circularity within societal parameters, creating awareness of cultural change, often through literary articulation. 

During the long eighteenth century, Sydney Owenson constructs her national tales by configuring lexical combinations of Irish, English and European colloquialisms, drawing upon the historical and philosophical perceptions of René Descartes and Immanuel Kant to transform her romantic tales into narratives of political inquiry. 

Her voice maintains a necessary fortitude in terms of her unique perspective, placing Irish ideology into the center of English culture at the onset of the Ascendancy, while she illustrates foresight in challenging the political stance of the United Kingdom in the early decades of the nineteenth century.

Ha' Penny Bridge, Dublin, Ireland

A Gathering of Souls

A Gathering of Souls

Friendship bound by a common thread

nourished with Eternal Bread

of kindness, love, and stories shared

revealing truth to one who cared.

These are the Blessings we unfold,

as youthful dreams become 'days of old'

and gatherings are more carefully planned,

honoring love as a theme so grand. 

Refrain from giving confusion reign!

A shivering soul has warmth to gain, 

I pick up my needle with colorful thread

  Repair the tattered.  

Share the Bread. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem on Pod-omatic, click HERE.)

An American Civil War Narrative

Below is a narrative poem that I wrote decades ago in which I used the American Civil War as its theme. 

The Battle of Gettysburg occurred between July1-3, 1863.

  A nine-patch quilt, hand-quilted by me

Two Tiny, Nine-Patch Doll Quilts

(An American Civil War Narrative)

A tiny, nine-patch doll quilt

lay upon a tiny bed

made especially for Maggie Mae

the year her family fled

from all those scornful Yankees,

who were running through their town

setting homes and lives afire

causing Southern hopes to drown.

A tiny, nine-patch doll quilt

lay upon a tiny crib

made especially for Eleanor

the summer when her nib

was loosened from her pen in hand

as the Rebels fired loud

and soon her family huddled in fear

with the other Gettysburg crowd.

Two tiny, nine-patch doll quilts

heard two tiny prayers say,

“Dear Lord, please let our battled lands

be placed within Your peaceful stay,

and help our families change their hate

to Blessings filled with love.

Then, all of us will recognize

Your Blessings from above.”

Two tattered, nine-patch doll quilts

lay in honorable view,

for each is cherished dearly

by descendants of the two

who saw their lives so clearly

pass through war’s destructive side,

for one hundred years of prayer brought

a Rebel son his Yankee bride.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos