Thursday, August 22, 2019


Open Link #249.  Here are my
observations of the eternal
male/female dilemma.
Submitted to dVerse
August 22, 2019
Men’s heads are full of knowledge
They fix cars and TVs and clocks
But when it’s time to get dressed
They cannot find their socks
They’re wizards of culinary talent
In the backyard barbeque
But ask them to boil water
And they don’t know what to do.
Their toolboxes are models of neatness
And their fishing gear just so
But, once inside the house,
They strew things to and fro
They are strong, stalwart and silent
And brave for all to see
But hand them a screaming infant
And they’re terrified as can be
Quite often they’re tough and unyielding
No challenge ever too much
Other times they’re tender and caring
And hungry for a loving touch
They ogle with obvious pleasure
Each sweet young thing on the street
But if their lady’s eyes should wander
They say things we can’t repeat.

On the other hand we have the female
Man’s helpmate here on this earth
Oh, how can they ever question
Our immeasurable worth
When they’re comfy with beer and ballgame
Why does the reason have to be proved
That we cannot wait one minute
To have the furniture moved.
When their space allotted in the closet
Is approximately one foot square
Why do they question our statement
“I haven’t a thing to wear!”
One day we say “Is THAT all you think of
Can’t you see I must go to the store
The next we say “You didn’t kiss me
Don’t you love me anymore?”
We know bridge with the girls is harmless
For we are wonderfully wise
Why don’t they understand it’s different
Than poker with the guys?

I’m sure God’s still searching for blueprints
And mumbling “Now what was my plan?
Could it be I was elsewise distracted
When I thought to create woman for man?"

Tuesday, August 20, 2019


Prosery #3...a story with beginning and end
to include up to or exactly 144 words
including the phrase "You will love again the
stranger who was yourself" from the poem "Love
After Love".   After being rebellious, I am
shamed into having a go at it.
There was a huge celestial problem.  Cloud Keeper seemed to have lost her sense of self and was dispensing clouds indiscriminately. The sun, moon and stars formed a coalition to negotiate with her to be more responsible, and work with their schedules.  The sun complained that the storm clouds were loosed on the very day he planned to ripen peaches in Georgia, and the moon grumbled they ruined the romantic moonlit evening he’d planned for lovers in Hawaii.  The fat-bellied clouds rained all over picnics, parades and ballgames, and the fluffy white clouds hid the handle of the Big Dipper and turned the Milky Way into a pit stop resulting in celestial chaos.   The coalition issued the Cloud Keeper a mandate … “You will learn to love again the stranger who was yourself” or it will be necessary to give you a 30-day notice.

Monday, August 19, 2019


Kim offers Prosery #3 in which we're to
write a story in the genre of our choice,
with beginning and end, up to or exactly
144 words, including the words "love after love".
I find my folksy style doesn't lend itself
very well to structure. Forgive me, fellow
poets, I seem to be a bit of a
rebel, but here are my thoughts …...

It’s always given me pleasure
To create my little rhymes
Happy mindless ditties
Even sad ones sometimes

Sometimes I write of love
After love has passed me by 
I try to remember passionate times
God knows I really try.

Tumbling through my head
Words fall into their place
Leaving me contented
With a smile upon my face
I guess I’m a free spirit
A rebel, if you may
Try to put me in a box
And you’ve surely spoiled my day

Telling me how to place my words
And where to end a line
Leaves me quite determined
To write not that way but mine

Instructions leave me speechless
I just don’t have the knack
For wrestling ten pounds of words
Into a five pound sack                        

Tuesday, August 13, 2019


Tuesday Poetics.  We’re given three
Poems from international artists from
which to chose for inspiration.  I’ve
chosen “Migratory Birds” by a
Serbian poet.  I felt it could also apply
to the special relationships in our lives.
Submitted to dVerse
August 12, 2019 

Southward we fly
in answer to a genetic message
old as rime.

To my right, my wingman
long time friend
and trusted companion

For many years
we’ve made this journey
side by side

We cry our joy
to those below

A gunshot sounds
my wingman falters
and plummets earthward

Onward I fly
and scream my grief
Farewell, my friend

All the journeys
yet to come
will never be the same.

Monday, August 12, 2019


Quadrille #85 … 44 words on the
subject of our inner voice.  I harken
to a time when I was newly widowed
and my inner voice challenged me as
I learned to live alone once more.
Submitted to dVerse
August 12, 2019


Furniture is polished
To warm rosy glow
Small voice says “Who’ll know?”

Soup is a’simmer
Good smells in air
Small voice says “Who’ll share?”

Windows are sparkling
Clean as can be
Small voice says “Who’ll see?”

Lesson to be learned
Small voice says “When?”