Thursday, December 14, 2017


I wrote this a few years ago, but
it’s fun to revisit it every Christmas.
After all, we don’t get to hear from
Mrs. Claus very often!
Submitted to dVerse Open Link  December 14, 2017
“Tis the night before Christmas, I’ve just cleaned the house
Now I find Santa’s been drinking, the louse
He’s been into that bottle of Christmas cheer
I’ve been using for cooking since some time last year.

So, now the sleigh’s loaded (and so is he)
There’s nobody left to drive but me
There’s no place to sit except on his lap
And he’s probably lost the blasted map.

Well, giddyup Prancer, and Blitzen too
We’ve got an important job to do.
Just fly high and fast as in days of yore
We’ll go really fast, so they don’t hear him snore.

We’ll deliver these toys with all possible class
In spite of this tanked-up irresponsible ass.
Who’d have thought when I married my handsome prince
He’d turn into the bum I’ve been living with since.

Rudolph, I thought I could count on you
But I see by your nose you’ve been hitting the brew
Oh, how will I travel this highway of stars
When even NASA can’t find Planet Mars.

I’m only one woman, but can’t you see
All the boys and girls are counting on me?
Well, here we go fellas, it’s a leap of faith
Pretend you’re up and it’s the last of the eighth.

…I knew we could do it, I just love you guys
In spite of our troubles, you were wonderfully wise
The toys are delivered, we’re almost back
With this besotted tippler, and an empty sack.

We rose to the occasion and we did it all right.
He’s beginning to wake up … Oh you lecherous rake!
Not tonight, Santa, I’ve got a headache.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017


It’s Midweek Motif time,
and the topic Is “Celebration”. 
Submitted to Poets United
December 13, 2017

I celebrate my friends, strong women all
They shore me up when I’m down
Rejoice with me in my victories
Accept my shortcomings and foibles
Laugh at my silly jokes
Inspire me intellectually
Share the challenges of aging gracefully
They are the sisters I never had
Each special in her own way.

Tuesday, December 12, 2017


A contemplative poem on a COLD winter day.
Submitted to dVerse
Poetics Tuesday
December 12, 2017

How I wish I could capture the world that I see
And relay to others what it says to me
How it settles me into my comfortable groove
Warmed by the fireplace, too lazy to move
That new fallen snow can cast a spell
A promise of new beginnings and all that ends well
That sunrise assures me another day
To explore and experience what  I may
And rainbows are blessings that follow rain
To let me know sunshine will come again
That music transports me to far-away places
And brings to memory beloved faces
That birds are feathered miracles sent to remind us
That faith can help us put sorrow behind us
And surely as leaves fall and winter winds blow
Spring will follow with renewed life to show
How I wish I could capture this world that I see
And relay to others what it says to me.

Sunday, December 10, 2017


I apologize for my absence.  I’ve been swept
away with festivities, it seems; but I’ve time
for a haiku, and I'm looking forward to curling
up by the fire for an evening of poetry from all of you.
Submitted to Poets United Poetry Pantry #382
December 10, 2017

First flakes have fallen
The world looks fresh and new
Would that it were true

Saturday, December 2, 2017


A thoughtful haibun and senyru for
Poets United this week, penned after a
road trip through north central Illinois,
submitted to Poetry Pantry #381
December 3, 2017

I’ve traveled this road innumerable times in my lifetime …
this road through the heartland, past  fields of corn and
soybeans that seem to stretch to the horizon, and the tidy
homes of the farmers who till the land.  Time marches on,
and a nation’s hunger for electrical power has brought to
the heartland a new crop … the wind farm.   Now, there
are rows of metal towers reaching skyward, their arms
turning lazily in a slow waltz across the vast flatness of
the landscape, harvesting prairie winds and generating
electrical power. At nightfall, their single blinking lights
become a cyclopsian superhighway, their soft whooshing
a lullaby to night creatures.  What next for this land
where Native Americans once pitched their teepees and
hunted buffalo?  Time will tell. 

nothing stays the same
time marches relentlessly
toward new landscapes

Wednesday, November 29, 2017


Susan has chosen bittersweet as the
theme for this week’s Midweek Motif.
The word conjures rambling country
roads edged by fencerows adorned
by a vine called bittersweet.
Submitted to Poets United Midweek Motif
November 29, 2017

While to most of us bittersweet means a melding of pain and pleasure, in the hills of Brown County in southern Indiana, home to the author, James Alexander Thom, and the singer, John Mellencamp, a vine called bittersweet can be found growing along the fences of the rambling rural roads.   Named bittersweet because, on the one hand, it is quite invasive and has been known to kill trees by wrapping around them so tightly the trees are strangled (called girdling by arborists); yet on the other hand during the Fall season the deep yellow of the berries bursts to reveal an orange jewel, while the foliage changes to a beautiful yellow and fencerows adorned with bittersweet become glorious to see.   Beloved by the residents of the area, it is often used for making autumn wreaths and decorations.   Vermont folklore tells us it was believed the root of the bittersweet provided protection against evil witches and malevolent magic.   Perhaps so.  Brown County is known for its log cabins and rural atmosphere, and it is difficult to believe malevolent magic lurks in those beautiful hills.


Tuesday, November 28, 2017


All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind is a part of ourselves.    ~ Anatole France


It's Poetics Tuesday and Paul has
asked us to talk about "change”.
Here are my thoughts, submitted
to dVerse Poetics Tuesday
November 28, 2017
Once I was like the rock that fell
from the mountain face into
the stream… all sharp edges,
seemingly unchangeable. 

Life happened.  Like the rock in the river,
I was tumbled , bruised and battered
on my journey, edges smoothened
and honed on my passage.

Today I stand in the valley … change
softening and polishing my sharp edges, 
my solid core remaining but enforced
now with lessons learned.