Inspiration comes in fits and spurts, laced with time, warmed with the heart. Each of my offerings began with a whisper, a pause to see, hear, and reflect.
Books
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Blog
Diagnosis: Optimist Who Sees What Is
I refuse to be called Pollyanna
with a smile that hides truths.
My eyes twinkle
With star’s possibilities
I refuse to be the extinguisher
Of passions fire.
I choose to reflect what is
To light a room with ideas
I choose to create pathways
That surround smiles with hope.
I accept the intentions of Pollyanna
She sees the past in the stars
And misses lost friends.
We walk hand in hand accepting.
Perceptions
Microscopic dots so small
My eyes can’t see
The world within a molecule
With the speed of light
Stars appear years later
Specks from the past
I’m blinded by what I can’t phantom
A microscope
A telescope
A heartscope
My thoughts pleated
By the vast cosmos
The “DOMs”
A pyramid of visions
Kingdom
Serfdom
Freedom
Where life intersects
A perception of top to bottom
Seldom
Brings Wisdom
Random occurrences
Remove one grain of sand
A pebble from the bottom
A domino of chaos
As the pyramid topples
DOMs
Loose their place
A Meal for the Soul
A slice of warm homemade bread
A cup of hot cider
White cheese, a bowl of soup
A hand offered
A book read
A listening ear
A word of encouragement.
The Arrival
Winter tip-toed in
Along our coast
North and south
East and west
Snow covered streets
Mountains and lowlands
Beauty and the beast.
Whitened in silence
The scurry for shelter
warmth and rest,
a blessing or a curse
Pause, give you best
Winter arrived
Return
All I asked for was love…
Can you embrace me
As I am?
Open your eyes
The mind will follow
For I’ll return
With joy, laughter, tears
That melts your anger
Softens the fear
To embrace you as you are.
About Abbe
Abbe Rolnick grew up in the suburbs of Baltimore, Maryland. Her first major cultural jolt occurred at age 15 when her family moved to Miami Beach, Florida. To find perspective, she climbed the only non-palm tree at her condo complex and wrote what she observed. History came alive with her exposure to Cuban culture. After attending Boston University, she lived in Puerto Rico, where she owned a bookstore. Once Stateside, she capitalized on the knowledge she gained as an independent bookstore owner and worked for one of the finest bookstores, Village Books, in Bellingham, Washington. Once a CEO of a manufacturing firm and owner of a healthy foods café, she is now retired and spends her time writing.
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All photos on this site and in all of Abbe’s Notes are copyright by her husband: Jim Wiggins.
As a writer, I write to an audience who believes I have something to say. This is Jim Wiggins, my muse. I write and he listens to my morning thoughts. His gift to me, is that he receives these thoughts and believes they have significance. Some are profound, others silly, mundane, or inspiring. A voice needs an ear. Jim provides visuals to my thoughts as he travels our world documenting life.
