Tuesday, October 31, 2017


It’s Tuesday Halloween at dVerse,
and Bjorn asks us to speak of monsters,
goblins and our worst fears.  I’ve delved
deep, and revealed my most dread fear of all.
Submitted to dVerse
October 31, 2017

Deep behind my smiling face
And confident exterior
There lurks a secret thing I fear
There’s truly nothing fearier
It’s of the day my children meet
And in terror I hear them say
She’s a danger to self and others
We must take her car keys away!


Monday, October 30, 2017


Our Haibun Monday challenge is
to feature “kindness”.
Submitted to dVerse
October 30, 2017

There’s a physics theory which, in essence, is the idea that a single butterfly flapping its wings on one side of the globe can, in theory, start a hurricane on the other.  I believe, if this concept were applied to acts of kindness, a single small kindness could be like a pebble dropped in a stream, with the ripples going outward, wider and wider.  There were wonderful role models of kindness in the very rural community in which I grew up.  If a local farmer were ill or injured and unable to harvest his crops, for example, on a given day a virtual army of neighbors would appear, work together, and in a single afternoon finish the task for him.  Conversely, just a kind word or a compliment can make someone’s day. The funny thing about an act of kindness is that it has a boomerang effect.  While our act of kindness affects others, we receive a warm, happy rush for having extended it.   It’s a win-win situation!  Let’s start a kindness revolution!

Pebble in the stream
Ripples ever widening
Be humble and kind


Sunday, October 29, 2017



Forgive me, but the political climate is
fodder I simply cannot resist, so here
is yet another rant for the Poetry Pantry #377.
Submitted to Poets United
October 20, 2017

We sat on our comfy couches
too lazy to get out and vote
and now our ship of state
has turned into a leaky boat
He’s running the country on Twitter
our embarrassment is replete
We’re kept on the edge of our seats
for his daily trick or tweet

He engages in rattling sabers
with North Korea’s Kim Jong Un
Their “can you top this” exchanges
have become a worrisome tune
Just when we think he’s topped himself
in providing political hell
be darned if he doesn’t undertake
a battle with the NFL

We watch “fake news” in amazement
as they present what reason defies
And he continues to stomp and swagger
and believe in his own lies
We’re left to attempt to sort it out
and wade through all the debris
and wish we had politicians
dedicated to representing you and me.

He’s promised to build a wall
and says it’ll be high and wide
If our fervent prayers are answered
He’ll be caught on the other side.

Friday, October 27, 2017


For Meeting the Bar Victoria has
challenged us to write a blackout
poem.   I enjoyed my first so much
I decided to write another just for
fun.  This one is from Lewis Carroll’s
“Jabberwocky”, a bit of delightful nonsense.
Submitted to dVerse
October 27, 2017

Beware the Jubjub bird and
frumious bandersnatch,
long time foe he sought.
Eyes of flame came whiffling
and burbled One two!  One two!
And snicker-snack he left it dead
“Oh frabjous day“, he chortled
“‘Twas brillig!”


Thursday, October 26, 2017


Victoria challenges us to write an erasure
poem or blackout poem,  by choosing words
from existing text and reconstructing them. 
My words are taken from Robert James Waller’s
essay “Slow Waltz for Georgia Ann”, which
appeared in his book "Old Songs in a New Cafe".
Submitted to dVerse Meeting the Bar
October 26, 2017

Looking past the somber faces of paramedics
I saw your tears.  I have trusted the years
But it was the loss of you I feared
I am haunted by the feeling
We might not meet again
We have come here by different ways
Once the dust of your carriage
Was of more value than my life
Now you’ve taught me caring and softness
My task was to teach you about dreams
In another time you might recognize me
And for a strange and flickering moment
Remember ….


Wednesday, October 25, 2017


Midweek Motif at Poets United,
the requested theme to be “journey,
which occasions a bit of prose from me.
Submitted to Poets United
October 25, 2017

Having traveled the last several years of my working life,
there are journey tales to be told.   I fell in love with a pilot
for the friendly skies of United on a hot day in Cleveland
at the end of a tiring series of meetings.  For some reason,
the gate was not available, and we were required to walk
out onto the tarmac in 90 degree heat and climb the steps
to board our plane.  I huffed and puffed my way up the steps
lugging my heavy carry-on bag, only to be greeted at the
top of the steps by a stewardess who looked as fresh and
cool as I was miserable.   “Welcome” she smiled, “How
are we?”  “I don’t know about you”, I replied grumpily,
“but I am tired, I am fat, and I am grumpy”, whereupon
the handsome pilot stepped out of the cockpit, looked at me,
and said, “For a minute there, I thought my wife was
boarding”.   Bless his heart, that handsome devil, he made
my journey memorable.


Tuesday, October 24, 2017


It’s Tuesday Poetics, and Mish has
asked us to write a poem about
the masks we wear.   
Submitted to dVerse
October 22, 2017


I guard my heart with levity
I’m the queen of joke and smile
I’m adept at making light of things
And practiced with my guile

…but you don’t know me

I’ve studied my psychology
My demeanor is confident and smart
I’ve learned  to wear my studied mask
And hide my broken heart

…and you don’t know me

I’m waiting to find someone
Who sees beyond the fa├žade
Who’ll help me learn to trust again
And renew my faith in God

… please, know me


Monday, October 23, 2017


Grace is hosting Quadrille #43,
and has chosen the word “creak” for
our 44 word poem.   For a while there
I was on a roll … but it seems I ran
out of words!
Submitted to dVerse
October 21, 2017

Sally was a fair young maiden
Who heard a creaky stair
She grabbed her trusty pistol
They’d not catch her unaware

She hid behind her bedroom door
Preparing for the worst
With pistol cocked she waited
As through the door he burst 

        ……  The End  


Wednesday, October 18, 2017


As we grow older, we tend to review our
life's journey.  I'm submitting a bit of prose
that reflects my thoughts on the subject.
Submitted to Open Link #206 at dVerse
October 19, 2017

Funny, it’s not the grand material things that bring lasting pleasure,
but the small things that validate us.   When we’re gone,  it’s not
likely we’ll be remembered for the material things we’ve accrued
in this life,  but for the small kindnesses we’ve extended that linger
in the memory of those whose lives we touched along the way.   It
brings such a rush of pleasure to know, even with all the stumbles
and less than glorious moments during my life journey,  I have left
some fond and positive memories with others.  Nothing pleases me
more than to be with my children and hear them speak fondly of
things I did or said in their childhood;  to hear an ex-employee say
“If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be where I am today” or “You were
 a good boss” (never mind that their secret nickname for me was
“Old Ironpants”!).  Recently, a long-time dear friend showed me a
note I’d written her long ago during a difficult time.  She'd kept it all
these years.  I was incredibly touched.  I guess you could say my
greatest pleasure is simply knowing that I mattered.


Sunday, October 15, 2017


For the Poetry Pantry #375, wherein
 I dream fake news  (sigh).
Submitted to Poets United
October 14, 2017

I had a wonderful dream
Oh!  What a trip it was
All the world’s cares fell away
In that land of just because

As I swung from the brightest star
I was young, and free and wise
I danced on the Milky Way
And frolicked through the skies

I sipped from the Big Dipper
And took a hike on the moon
The skies were filled with music
And it was always a happy tune

It was as I prayed the world to be
Hate, hunger and disease had vanished
It was bitter cold on Outer Mongolia
Where Trump and Kim Jong Un were banished

Where they can continue to swagger and threaten
But they’ll get their justly dues
Oh how I wish this tale were true
But Alas!  It’s just fake news.


Monday, October 9, 2017


De has chosen HOPE for this week’s
quadrille, much needed for her city
of Las Vegas.  As usual this is to be
44 words, excluding the title.
Submitted to dVerse
October 9,  2017

When evil rears its ugly head
And seems to fill our souls with dread
We reach within for ways to cope
And tap our inner store of hope    
With faith we manage to soldier on
After darkest night, there’s always dawn. 
Hope springs eternal.


Saturday, October 7, 2017


A comment on modern life.
Submitted to Poets United
Poetry Pantry #374
October 8, 2017

We spend much of our modern lifetime
In pursuit of a thing we call class
And status is oh, so important
If society’s test we’re to pass.

We’re hung up on designer labels
That are stitched to the back of our jeans
We think it’s of utmost importance
To appear to be people of means.

We all want to be “beautiful people”
Who belong to some private group
Rub elbows with “movers and shakers”
And move in the “inner loop”.

How I love it when on occasion
I escape from the frantic fray
And return to the home of my childhood
Where they still live the simple way.

For the most part they’re hard-working people
With neither tennis court nor pool
They don’t spend much time on status
Just honor the Golden Rule

They could care less about a label
Or fashion’s twist or turn
But, if a neighbor needs help, they help him
And ask not for pay in return

They always take time to say “howdy”
And to smile at each person they pass
They’re kind and they’re warm and they’re caring
And they have what I’d say is REAL class.

Photo my original digital art.

Thursday, October 5, 2017


It’s Open Link at dVerse.  I’m having a
busy week, so here’s a bit of brief
Submitted to dVerse Open Link #205
October 4, 2017

With his healthy libido
And wearing his speedo
He felt quite the ladies man
With his handsome physique
He thought himself really unique
Charming ladies was his big plan.
But the ladies ignored him
In fact they implored him
To just go away …  if he can


Tuesday, October 3, 2017


Poetics by Paul this week, and  he asks us to take
a look at grammar, THE RULES, and how to break
them.  Brief mine is of necessity, scrambled were
my brains!
Submitted to dVerse Poetics
October 2, 2017

Throw Momma from the train her hat.  Here are cookies
for the family that are chocolate in my bag.  I thought not
much, but that photo catches my eye in your hallway. 
On hungry arriving, I got a hamburger from that restaurant
that cost $9.00.  It was an expense up with which I will not
put again.  But, glad to be here I am.


Monday, October 2, 2017


Haibun/Haiku Monday at dVerse, and
Victoria has chosen FROST as
our theme.
Submitted to dVerse
October 2, 2017

James Whitcomb Riley said it best … “When the frost
is on the ‘punkin’ and the fodder’s in the shock”.
Autumn is a kaleidoscope of  memories for me.
It was my mother’s favorite time of year, and she
loved to arrange a Fall display by the yard gate.
First she’d bring corn stalks from the field and
fashion them into a shock, then harvest her Indian
corn, pumpkins, and colorful gourds  to gather
about it.  A bale  of straw became a seat for the
scarecrow she fashioned from my father’s old
overalls.   If we were lucky, we had a few weeks
to enjoy the display before that first night when
the temperature plunged and we woke to
sun-sparkled frost crystals.  It was a magic time
of  harvest, hayrides, wiener roasts, apple barns,
burning leaves and the honking of geese overhead. 
In memory still, I breathe in the pure, crisp air of home.
Fodder in the shock
Jack Frost can’t be far behind
Winter’s harbinger