Thursday, August 17, 2017



From my perch on the picnic table
I watch him step to the sunny core
of a verdant expanse in the park.
He unfurls a deep green blanket,
spreads it upon the grass, then sits centerstage,
perfect lotus position, hands
on kneecaps, eyes closed.
He is motionless, silent, peaceful.
Then he begins a chanting hum,
"harummm, harumm,"
and I envision a frog poised
upon a lily pad, chanting
a seductive love song
to yearning females within his domain.
I close my eyes and listen to his hum blend
with bird, cricket, wind, tree and stream,
and with frogs in the nearby pond.

Rose Lefebvre ©

Saturday, August 12, 2017


Another poem on how I visualize a foggy scene.

Love Poem for Fog  

Towering firs stand suspended
within your moist arms, needles weeping
tears to the ferned earth below.
The path dreamily disappears,
swallowed into your misty mouth.
My imagination drifts beyond
the luxuriant waterfall fringed
by hazy waves of softened gray.
Rivers flow sleepily, tranquilly
into your indistinguishable silhouette.
The opaque view echoes Oriental paintings
where fog obscures landscape
leaving imagination to fill it in
like a mysterious puzzle.
Eyes strain to visualize what is hidden
Within the shadowy display.
Ancient worlds lay beyond your quiet curtain,
worlds where bow and arrow exist
and imagination is ascribed upon stone.

Monday, July 31, 2017


In one workshop I attended led by Oregon's Poet Laureate Emeritus Paulann Petersen, she gave us a challenge to think of different ways to describe something, and the two I picked from a list were whirlpool and mist.  

Liquid hurricane tickling across stones,
the laughing, spinning, dizzy
roller coaster for leaves and twigs;
a merry-go-round for daring frogs.

A shroud upon hillsides and mountains,
a painter creating ghostly silhouettes of grand firs
in mottled shades of grays,
creating depth, softening landscape.

a million dandelions flooding the sky,
a softened surfing cloud,
a smoky blanket obscuring fields
dispersed where roads cut through.

Do they put a picture in your mind?
Do you see the thing described?
Paulann loved them.

Monday, July 17, 2017


July 15th I had a garden party with some friends to show off the lovely garden that my dear and talented friend, Lisa N., had created for my enjoyment. She is an amazing landscaper. We all had a good time chatting, exploring, playing games, and watching butterflies and hummingbirds.
The food was good, too!
Lisa is the one wearing the baseball cap.  Thank you, Lisa!
I had set up a "photo booth" area with props and signs and almost forgot about it. I almost forgot to take photos altogether! So some of the party attendees had come and gone before I remembered and they did not get photographed!  Those who did were so kind to give in to my whim and pose for me (except for MJ's hubby).  Here are the photos of my fun friends who cooperated with this old lady!
One of my friends, Beth, then took shots of me doing the hokey pokey!
I also wore a tiny hat for a pose!
Can you tell that I enjoyed my party?

Friday, July 7, 2017


This is the poem I read when I spread the final ashes of my husband, Maxwell Clayton "Clay" Lefebvre at Trillium Lake.


My fingers stroll through the photographs as I recall
each moment that has been frozen in time.
I spread them out, recollect each lovely memory,
its laughter, its color, its sweetness; sleepy
lakes where we camped and fished, sat watching
dragonflies and birds drop in and out of view.
I picture scenes of us walking alongside free-spirited rivers,
squirrels chattering as we create a pinecone sculpture
to mark our passing through this place.
Cedar tree scents embellish the air as we journey, holding hands.
Poplars huddle in one space, as if in deep discussion,
and I whisper that I imagine trees plotting, planning,
exchanging rumors; we laugh together.

The path winds among ferns, trees, dancing shadows.
We silently savor what God has created, feel His touch,
enjoy the calming effect upon us.
We spot glistening webs, see soft blankets
of moss upon trees, you say they look like miniature lawns.
As I stroke the moss, you lean in and place a kiss
upon my neck, whisper that you love me, and the world stops.

Thoughts stored within my mind, now drawn out softly
like a silk thread as I finger each photograph;
rich opalescent moments captured
by camera, and my mind’s eye.

Saffron dawns may light up the morning skies,
and softened sunsets may stir a soul,
but my memories illuminate my heart.

Rose Lefebvre©

Tuesday, June 20, 2017


After church on Sunday, June 18th, I traveled the 10 miles to nearby Canby to enjoy the Renaissance Faire being held there.  I have been to a number of them over the years and do enjoy it. Even many people who attend will dress in costume. I used to when younger and loved fitting in with the frivolity! I had even made a costume for my husband and he wore it with pride! We were peasants.
I love seeing the costumes...
Sometimes I wonder about the people in the costumes...what they are like away from here...
There are shows to see and little plays...
and vendors selling their wares...
I got a henna tattoo here! It is not permanent like a real one and no pain!
And, of course, there is always the joust!
The crowd did thumbs up to allow the valiant knight to survive. Hazzah!
Even a pretty little pony was embellished for the occasion.
They had the largest rocking horses I have ever seen!  The children (and a few adults) enjoyed riding them.
I had a wonderful and relaxing day stepping back in time!
Hope you enjoyed the photo's and one day attend one of the fairs!