December 14, 2009
“Poet on the Edge of the Back of Beyond” is a collection of poems, short stories and photographs of life along the shoreline of the Pacific coast. The author journeys along with the reader leaving colorful tidbits of local knowledge throughout, gleaned from years of experience enjoying the ambiance of nature. Poet on the Edge of the Back of Beyond is now available on Amazon.com. For more information about the book or to order a copy, please Click Here .
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About the Author:
Mary Ann Schallert is a poet and short story writer originally from Astoria, Oregon.
This compilation of thoughtful poetry and short stories is inspired by living and working on the Pacific Coast from Oregon to Alaska. As Mary Ann describes, snapshots of life lived along the shoreline.
An avid sailor, she explored waterways along the coast as time and work allowed, enjoying the ambiance of harbors and small towns along the way. She lived aboard the trawler, Miramar, on San Francisco Bay and Puget Sound. Later on she brought the Islander Freeport ketch, Solitude, up the west coast from San Diego. Washington’s San Juan Islands and the waters of southern British Columbia became a favorite cruising paradise.
In the early spring of 1994, Mary Ann and her family traveled up the Inside Passage aboard their sailboat, Solitude. She describes the twenty-eight day voyage as the experience of a lifetime. Along the way they explored every nook and cranny, village and inlet that seemed promising. This became a marvelous set of memories drenched in sunshine and showers, filled to the brim with waterfalls and rainbows.
Although planned as a summer trip to meet friends on another boat to explore northern waters, they found Ketchikan so friendly and inviting they settled down in Alaska for over fourteen years. She and her family kept up their boating lifestyle; fishing and exploring coves and inlets from Dixon Entrance to the northern tip of Prince of Wales Island, as well as more adventurous trips to interior Alaska from time to time.
Mary Ann and her family relocated to Ocean Shores, Washington in 2007. She continues to enjoy the outdoors along the Pacific Coast, photographing and writing of the many wonders she finds around every bend in the road.
Mary Ann is a regular contributor to GotPoetry.com under her poet name “maryanns”.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
When the wind blows...
When the wind blows right through downtown Ocean Shores I always wonder how the IGA still has enough shopping carts for all of us. I imagine all the shiny blue carts running east toward Duck Lake, perhaps some of them peeling off into the trees to hide in thickets before they go off a bank and get dunked.
The wind blows hard at the IGA... why do I buy groceries on windy days? The answer is...
it blows harder in town than it does out at our house. I don't realize how windy it is in town until it's too late.
Today was still - a great day to buy groceries, except... it was twenty-two degrees. Bright sunshine without a breath of warmth, the canal froze... mallards swam right up to the icy edge and stopped short. Eventually they disappeared back the way they came. I suspect mallards have no use for ice or very cold sunny days.
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When the Wind Blows
An eerie twilight falls, I step outside
quietly observing hazy shapes
grazing in the yard…
soft brown bodies browse among the weeds
stripping green from waving moss and leaves
moving in the midst of swaying willow trees
some prance and dance among themselves
then some begin to scent a changing breeze.
Strong gusts of wind sweep leaves
across my sandy tennis shoes
leaving empty space…
concern descends in breaths of salt and surf
cascading off the tossing tops in drizzle drops
of streaming rain that chills them to the bone
then hazy grazing shades of brown move on
as shadows blend into a murky underground.
Lost in isolation beneath the eaves
chilled and shivering in silence
my apparitions vanish…
in twisted brush through tangled overgrowth
to sticky thickets choked in purple berry bush
entangled vines that wind and twine beneath
chilly hooves of wilted ghosts in velvet coats
with gentle violet eyes that glisten in the mist.
My mind is overwhelmed by shadows
blending in and out of busy lives
banished in the haze.
Everyone stay warm now.
Peace, Mary Ann
The wind blows hard at the IGA... why do I buy groceries on windy days? The answer is...
it blows harder in town than it does out at our house. I don't realize how windy it is in town until it's too late.
Today was still - a great day to buy groceries, except... it was twenty-two degrees. Bright sunshine without a breath of warmth, the canal froze... mallards swam right up to the icy edge and stopped short. Eventually they disappeared back the way they came. I suspect mallards have no use for ice or very cold sunny days.
--------------------------------------------
When the Wind Blows
An eerie twilight falls, I step outside
quietly observing hazy shapes
grazing in the yard…
soft brown bodies browse among the weeds
stripping green from waving moss and leaves
moving in the midst of swaying willow trees
some prance and dance among themselves
then some begin to scent a changing breeze.
Strong gusts of wind sweep leaves
across my sandy tennis shoes
leaving empty space…
concern descends in breaths of salt and surf
cascading off the tossing tops in drizzle drops
of streaming rain that chills them to the bone
then hazy grazing shades of brown move on
as shadows blend into a murky underground.
Lost in isolation beneath the eaves
chilled and shivering in silence
my apparitions vanish…
in twisted brush through tangled overgrowth
to sticky thickets choked in purple berry bush
entangled vines that wind and twine beneath
chilly hooves of wilted ghosts in velvet coats
with gentle violet eyes that glisten in the mist.
My mind is overwhelmed by shadows
blending in and out of busy lives
banished in the haze.
Everyone stay warm now.
Peace, Mary Ann
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