ALEXANDRA PALMER (The Happy Amateur)

Rudbeckia laciniata ‘Hortensia’ - Common name: Golden Glow

I always thought that Golden Glows were Russian flowers.  They are so common to Russian villages and small towns.  You would see them grow below the windows of log houses, or along the wooden fences.  That is why I was in for a big – and pleasant – surprise, when I found out that Golden Glows were native to Eastern North America.  It made me feel good inside.  It was like coming home.  Now whichever side of the ocean I am on, the glowing suns warm my heart.

My name is Sasha (short for Alexandra) Palmer.  Born and raised in Moscow, now Russia, back then USSR, I spent eight years in Prague, Czech Republic, before relocating to the US in 2008.  I live in Maryland with my husband, our two kids – a girl and a boy – and our rescue mutt Ralphie.

I write, because I love it.  Writing makes me happy.  If every now and then my words brighten up your day, I am oh so glad!

Come visit me at:

Live for the Love of it!


© All postings and intellectual materials on this page are property of Alexandra Palmer.

12 thoughts on “ALEXANDRA PALMER (The Happy Amateur)

  1. IN-FORM POET – Rime Couée

    Walt’s Rime Couée:


    The welcome mat is always out,
    and heart-felt comments carry clout,
    so this is what it’s all about.
    Encouraging, not abusive,
    we love to read your words, no doubt.
    We are all-inclusive!


    Oh let me sing this clear and loud,
    As grateful tears my vision cloud,
    I am so psyched to join this crowd,
    So talented and fun,
    Inspired by you I’m standing proud,
    My journey has begun!

  2. COLOUR MY WORLD – Prompt #39

    ~Colour of Hope~

    Cracking and breaking,
    Overflowing with worry, the
    Lukewarm sky came crushing
    Us. That’s when we saw it – the
    Red tail

    Of an autumn squirrel,
    Firing through the park, playing

    Oh, there it was again!
    Peeking from behind a bush…
    Everything was going to be fine.


    A trick of the eye –
    Crystal swans, swimming into
    The golden sunset.

    * * *

    Set water on fire,
    Dying flames of the sunset!
    Before the night falls.

    * * *

    Fires are cold,
    Turned into ice,
    Yet when the sunset
    Splashes the crystal spikes
    With gold, it brings to light the
    Glow long forgotten. It’s there still.

    * * *

    We doubt the Divinity,
    Believing is seeing,
    We long for eternity,
    Our time here’s fleeing.
    All seeing and loving,
    With light, water, land,
    An image He’s carving,
    So we understand.
    A glance at the Trinity
    Our souls will relieve,
    Before the day’s finity
    We’ll breathe, and believe.

    * * *


    Elusive image,
    I beg of you, have mercy,
    I will lose my mind!
    My sanity spare,
    Release me from your clutches,
    I have chores to do!
    I make this plea, but
    I know that it is useless:
    I will wrack my brain
    Until the gardeners –
    Walt and Marie Elena –
    Bring forth a fresh prompt.

  4. January 1, 2012

    ~Pessimist versus Optimist~

    As you know, Earth is round, my friend,
    In life’s race ‘start’ and ‘finish’ do blend,
    As we all keep on spinning,
    What you see as the beginning,
    Is undoubtedly, sadly, the end.

    Yes, I know, Earth is round, my friend,
    But, please try (won’t you?) to comprehend,
    As we all keep on spinning –
    Here is where you start grinning –
    The beginning’s what sprouts from the end!

  5. January 14, 2012


    Her love was running deep,
    Brewing – slow, but steady –
    Like an underwater volcano.

    His was all flames and sparks,
    And just as quickly cooled, (Barbara’s line)
    And reduced to ashes of silver.

    She will forever yearn,
    Burning low and lonely,
    For the untamed fire they could have shared.

    ~My, oh my, oh my!~

    My, oh my, oh my! (Michael Grove’s line)
    One delicious pie,
    Heaven of a pie,
    Pinned right to the sky.

    Why, oh why, oh why?
    Chirping you and I,
    Can’t like birds we fly?
    Land atop that pie?
    Oh that pie, that pie…
    Why, oh why, oh why?


    Not (Paula’s one line poem)
    All gold
    Needs to be

    Your day
    Will come to

    The sparkling
    Grains of life’s

    It will,
    In good time.

  6. “BE PREPARED” – Prompt # 33

    ~Letters to Santa~

    The letters to Santa
    Have long been written,
    And sent on their way,
    The crazy ordeal of
    The last minute shopping
    Is looming ahead.
    The yearly trial
    Of marriage substance –
    Arranging the tree–
    Is seriously dreaded,
    But can’t be escaped.
    The house is a mess.
    And all of a sudden
    My son comes carrying
    His sister’s ‘boy-doll’.
    He says that it’s Jesus,
    And makes a manger,
    And brings gifts to him.
    And all of our burdens
    Are seen as weightless,
    And shoulders straighten.
    We put on Sinatra,
    He’s singing us carols,
    Like no one else can.
    We light Advent candles,
    We pray at mealtime,
    We start to prepare.


    ~Live for the Love of It!~

    Live for the love of it, my friend,
    A loveless life comes with a cost:
    Those precious moments that we spend
    With heavy hearts, are moments lost.

    Don’t worry so, lift up your face,
    Live for the love of it, my friend,
    Slow down and drop out of the race,
    You’ll be the winner in the end.

    While sounds and sights die out and blend,
    A loving heart does not know fear,
    Live for the love of it my friend,
    So you may see, and you may hear.

    Cut off the chains, your soul set free,
    True happiness you’ll comprehend,
    Go have a son, or plant a tree,
    Live for the love of it, my friend!


    ~An Old Dog~

    “Time for your lesson, Mama!”
    (Oh, hear my silent cries!)
    He won’t see the drama
    I carefully disguise.

    “Watch, Mama, how I do it,
    It’s so easy, see?”
    (Oh, help me suffer through it!
    Oh, woe, woe to me…)

    He’s only just discovered
    His sister’s DSi,
    “Look, Mum, I got it covered.”
    (Why me? Oh, why, oh why?…)

    He’ll probably think I’m slow,
    My son, he’s only six,
    He is too young to know
    About old dogs and tricks…

  9. MORAL OF THE STORY – Prompt #42

    ~You Are The Be(a)st!~

    It happened in a misty land,
    Where beastly creatures dwell.
    A yelp was heard to lend a hand
    (Or was it ‘paw’? Oh, well.)

    What must I do? Where should I go?
    I need to have a plan!
    I have to know! I want to grow!
    Please, help me if you can!

    My little beast, you’re worried sick!
    It’s going to be OK!
    Sit down, have some chocolate milk,
    And hear what I say:

    You will find out what you’re about,
    Just do your very best,
    And Mother Nature will – no doubt –
    Take care of the rest.

    Before you know it, you’ll grow
    And see what future brings.
    Have fun, and go with the flow,
    And try all sorts of things.

    Try wiggling ears, growing claws,
    Try glowing in the dark,
    Try rolling eyes and clicking jaws,
    Try grinning like a shark,

    Try sleeping in the scariest cave,
    Try howling at the moon,
    And if you’re really, really brave,
    Try eating with a spoon!

    Try being small, but standing tall,
    Try out your mighty roar!
    And when you think you’ve tried it all,
    Try trying even more!

    Try ups and downs… never fear:
    You’ll find your guiding star.
    But most importantly, my dear,
    Just be the beast you are.

    I’m always with you, always near,
    No matter how far.
    And I will always love you, dear,
    Just for the beast you are.

  10. Where the rubber meets the road – prompt #44

    ~ The Sea ~

    All four of us,
    The whole compartment is ours –
    Our cozy home
    For twenty four hours.
    My sister’s lucky :
    Got to sleep all the way up,
    I’m sure old enough,
    But they said, “No.”
    During the day though
    They let me climb there,
    I lie listening
    To the railroad’s heartbeat:
    Ta-dum, ta-dum… ta-dum, ta-dum…
    Dozing off,
    Waking up to the tinkling
    Of glasses – hate the tea,
    Love the glass holders:
    Silvery-shiny, sun catching.
    There’s more sun as we get closer,
    During stops
    Babushkas sell corn on the cob
    And sweet cucumbers –
    Won’t be long now.
    I’m waiting, plastered to the window.
    When I first spy it,
    I mistake it for part of the sky –
    Just another shade of blue.
    When I realize what it is,
    It starts playing games:
    Peeking out, and hiding again,
    Teasing, but in a good way.
    It is there, I know it now.
    Soon, very soon we’ll see it.
    There’ll be a station first,
    A small town with a salty breath,
    A house painted white,
    We’ll live in for a very long time –
    A month –
    A kind quiet woman
    Will greet us at the gate,
    She’ll feed us pelmeni
    (The food I dread, I call them jelly fish, )
    And her husband – if sober –
    Will play an accordion, and sing.
    Then there will be a hot path,
    And ice cream you have to eat real fast,
    Before it melts,
    Sun hats – yes, but sunscreen – what is it?
    And finally, we’ll see it.
    All consuming, dreamlike,
    Inviting and generous, like a promise.
    We’ll run towards it,
    And it’ll wrap all around us,
    Take us in –
    My sister watching over me –
    I’ll look up, wet and happy,
    And see Mama and Papa,
    Their impossibly young faces,
    Smiling at us from the shore.

  11. I’m really enjoying the design and layout of your website.
    It’s a very easy on the eyes which makers it much morre enjoyable for
    me tto comke herre and visit more often. Did you hire out a designer to create your theme?
    Great work!

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