Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Poetic Bloomings Blitz

Past of Me


Memories last

Memories past

Past life

Past loves

Loves hurt

Loves strengthen

Strengthen over time

Strengthen with God’s help

Help cousins

Help neighbors

Neighbors next door

Neighbors in the woods

Woods all around

Woods to hide secrets

Secrets in the diary

Secrets to share

Share and laugh

Share and play

Play outside

Play all day

Day in school


Light on your feet

Light as snow


Snow fights

Fights with sisters

Fights with friends

Friends at lunch

Friends stay over

Over the creek

Over the moon

Moon light walks

Moon in October

October beauty

October birthday

Birthday supper

Birthday presents

Presents useful

Presents funny

Funny jokes

Funny folks

Folks dance

Folks smile

Smile awhile

Smile at me

Me, myself and I

Me oh my




Tuesday, October 30, 2012

A caterpillar
On a leaf
Munching away
No hopes of ever becoming anything
A struggle
A breakthrough

Monday, October 29, 2012

An Alouette

I have writing time
To create a rhyme.
But I just have four minutes.
Quickly as a kiss,
I come up with this.
Just fun, no meaning, in it!

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Poetic Bloomings: Hang out

Shannon Creek Park

Hidden in a wooded valley, Shannon Creek Park.
A hand-drawn swimsuit-clad woman welcomed you
and on occasions, a country band played.
Pappap owned the park, but my parents ran the place—
Pavilions (one red and one blue shingled on each side of the creek),
log coke stand, two outhouses, softball field, horseshoe pit,
swing set, swimming hole and fishing dam, where my sis fell in.
"Dad got her out before she got wet," they exaggerated a bit

The coke stand housed a cooler for pop: cola, rootbeer,
orange, cherry, grape  and a freezer for ice cream treats:
Captain Crunch, Nutty Buddies and five-cent Popcicles.
I’d play with ridged bottle caps as Mum waited on customers
and follow her along as she cleaned the outhouses.
The boys’ rest room was a rustic one-seater, and across the way
the girls’ was a solidly built two-seater with a dressing room.
In the creek, I splashed around with new playmates each day.

I was about six when the park closed, the swim hole drained,
leaving the little creek to run through freely.
A stranger bought the land with the dam and built a house.
We girls claimed the large outhouse, poured lime down the holes,
turned the two-seater into a couch and tore out the partition.
We did odd-jobs around the neighborhood to fund our band,
The Sunflowers. We put on plays, crocheted crafts,
and played pretend games on the abandoned land.

When we got older, it still served as a hang out.
We’d push each other in the creek and discovered who liked who.
We took long walks with our boyfriends
or found cozy corners in the pavilions or the coke stand.
During moody times, I’d go up to that quiet place
sit on the bridge and watch the water rush past.
At the park, we worked, played, celebrated, discovered,
making many memories that would last.  

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Halloween ABC Tankas


Autumn brilliance thrives
Blowing wind dances with leaves
Crackles underfoot
Dropping apples bop on heads
Evil smiles glow come nighttime  

Falling leaves pile up
Gorgeous colors cover hills
Halloween candy
Imagination abounds 
Jumping in tall piles of leaves  

Keeping up with kids
Laughing, breathing in cool air
Moon casting shadows
Nighttime noises spooking folks
Orange pumpkins wait in great fields  

Pumpkin pies line up
Quaint autumn wreaths grace front doors
Racing down sidewalks
Satiny costumes swishing
Tangy, tickling, earthy air

Ugly masks show eyes
Victorious old heroes
Witches and broomsticks
eXcited chocolate nibblers
Youth abuzz in orange and black
Zesty apple cider—yum!

Friday, October 26, 2012






Brushing against me

Trying to sit on my lap top

Fidgeting, squirming, turning around, tail in my face

At last, sitting prettily by my side, eyes half closed, purring. Now, I hate to move her.

Chant poem

Moving Forward 

A Chevy chugged up the mountain.
Moving forward is all that matters.
Kids clamored in the back seat.
Moving forward is all that matters.
Snow piled near treacherous curves.
Moving forward is all that matters.

She took the trip several times.
Moving forward is all that matters.
Her parents gone, her kids moved out.
Moving forward is all that matters.
She put her hand in her husband’s.
Moving forward is all that matters.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

PA prompt chant

Ready Me to Receive

Do I make it hard for You to answer my prayers?
Ready me to receive.
Do I believe I am unworthy to succeed?
Ready to me to receive.
In my hiding from rejection, do I miss out on acceptance?
Ready me to receive.
Do I have a victim’s mindset, feeling unfamiliar to victory?
Ready me to receive.
Am I so accustomed to ugliness, beauty brings pain?
Ready me to receive.
Do I have a poverty mentality, repelling financial blessings?
Ready me to receive.
Am I so used to depression, joy feels extravagant?
Ready me to receive.
Am I so frightened, I don’t hear Your calling for me?
Ready me to receive.
Do I complain so much, praise is a foreign language?
Ready me to receive.
God You are a joyful giver, a loving Father.
Ready me to receive.


A tall, rough man with weathered skin,
Alert eyes, easy smile, and in
So many scrapes, trials and hard times,
Each person receives a fair shake
Though it may more than likely take 
Forgiveness in various climes—
The undeserving and the fools
The lowly and breakers of rules,
In love and acceptance joy chimes.

chant poem Colorado

Colorado Autumn

Clouds few, sky brilliant blue
Aspen shimmer in golden glory
Evergreens bold against the gold
Aspen shimmer in golden glory
Alight, mountains tipped white
Aspen shimmer in golden glory
Air crisp, wood smoke wisp
Aspen shimmer in golden glory
Robins fled, oak purplish-red
Aspen shimmer in golden glory
Jonathans tart, orange pumpkin art
Aspen shimmer in golden glory

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Poetic Bloomings Prompt Mom



H umble? Yes, mostly. But she did like to don swimsuit, negligee or dress to take pictures.

E nergetic? Yes, but never understood, “Get up and work!” didn’t inspire us.

L oving? Always. She cared for everyone she met, often writing to them for years.

E nthusiastc? Mostly about housework and family, especially her husband of fifty years.

N eurotic? In her later years she was preoccupied with sickness, always thinking the worst.


V ictorious? I think she stands before God and hears, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

I maginative? Yes, she painted flowers on papers plates and wrote hundreds of poems.

R eligious? Both in the common and pure meaning of the word.

G orgeous? Yes, black hair, brown eyes, legs that once won an award in high school.

I nteresting? She was a city girl who loved a country husband, sort of like Lisa on Green Acres.

N urturing? Maybe overly so. She wouldn’t rest, even on vacations.

I nventive?  Yes. She made instant hot chocolate before it came out, calling it quicky cocoa.  

A dventurous? Somewhat. She’d be up for anything Dad wanted her to do, such as hunting.


H elpful? Always. Even when she was busy raising five daughters.

U nderstanding? Mostly, but she didn’t seem to get her children’s problems were real to us.

R eliable? Yes. Meals were at 7, 12 and 4 and she was always there when we came home.

S ister? She had two brothers and three sisters, all but one lived in our area.

T hankful? Yes and she’d say so often.


S acrificial? She always put her family first. One time she tore up good sheets for tomato ties.

H opeful? Maybe overly so. One sister called her “the Queen of Denial”.

A miable? Yes, she enjoyed visiting with friends and strangers alike.

N otorious photographer? She took pictures of everyone including solicitors and salesmen.

N imble? For the longest time she could do cartwheels in the yard.

O pinionated? Mostly she kept her opinions to herself, except for writing to the president.

N ice? Always.

Saturday, October 20, 2012


Shoe Shopping

Tom wore nineteens
He searched forty days
Found in Mesquite
Yes, quite the feat

Friday, October 19, 2012


Harry’s Haircut  

Cuts on special
Buzz clippers sounded   
Wife was appalled
And Harry bawled

Thursday, October 18, 2012

A Sonnet

Created to Praise

Beneath the layers of hair, skin and skull
Concealed in soft gray matter of the brain
Synapses firing thoughts both bright and dull
Stir abilities to choose or refrain 

Are we merely chemicals in a bag,
With biodegradable working parts,
That as we grow old, break, wear out and sag?
Just masses of lungs, livers, kidney’s, hearts? 

Or made in image of Creator God,
Eternal souls designed for purpose here?
And though we’re sinful, willful, weak and flawed
Created to worship with reverent fear? 

God loved the world so much He sent His Son
And we can choose to be with Him as one



Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Poetic Asides Answer to a question

 How Was Your Trip?

Short answer. Fine, I had a wonderful time.
I’ll leave out the parts about the flight delay,
the deep conversation with a nephew,
doing dishes for three hours after a family supper,
helping a nervous mother of the groom
by preventing her tags from showing,
attending an outdoor wedding with
PJs under my dress to keep warm,
seeing my great nephew and niece
being cuter than all others carrying
a Here Comes the Bride sign,
watching my nephew and bride exchange I dos
while the bridesmaids turned blue,
dancing for the first time in a long while
to Monster Mash and I Believe in Miracles,
pinching myself to stay awake at church,
seeing my sister cry ten months
after her husband died, going to Taken Two
with my sisters and brother-in-law,
stuffing myself with pizza and lasagna,
breakfasting with a friend I hadn’t seen for thirty years,
meeting my sister’s friend and her dogs,
helping sisters and nieces clean out a farm house,
eating some kind of thing with green stuff,
playing Canasta and Scrabble half asleep,
being adopted by a cat and chased by a goat,
sitting by a frightened teenager on flight home,
getting enthusiastic greetings from my family.
So, fine thank you, had a wonderful trip.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Kitty’s ears like two mountains with a valley in between
Head and body like rolling hills
Calico fur slanted like ferns in the breeze

Monday, October 15, 2012


Autumn’s looking lovely lavishly dressed in golds, oranges, reds
But flaming colors snuff out quickly, giving way to whites and grays
Seasons strut their stylish stuff, each displaying its own beauty

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Poetic Bloomings Chores

Indoor/Outdoor Chores 

Hanging clothes on racks indoors
Those were chores I hated. 

But planting
Hanging clothes on lines outdoors
Those were chores I liked.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Poetic Bloomings InForm Carpe Diem

Little Things

How shall I seize this day,
When I’m tied to tedium?
Seems like there’s no highs or lows.
Life’s set on medium. 

So I’m like a metronome
Plodding out my time,
Setting about the dailies
Far from the sublime. 

But wait, God is near
Sublime to the max.
Don’t need a telephone,
Computer or fax. 

Just a whispered prayer
Directed up above.
And he responds personally
In His eternal love.

His Spirit assures me
And my heart sings,
Till I see adventure
In even the little things.




Friday, October 12, 2012

October 12, 2012 Friday First Line by Robert Lee Brewer

My Bed is a Planet

My bed is a planet peopled by
my cat and me. Other planets
spin by but she curls up on my lap
next to my computer and she and I
explore the universe.




October 11, 2012 Thursday First Line by Robert Lee Brewer

Spinning to the End 

The world, a helicopter seed spinning,
out of control, but in somewhat of a pattern,
a bit graceful, but definitely landing.
Round and round we go, not knowing
when and where it will stop but we know
it will stop. Will we be ready or crushed
underfoot like a dry helicopter seed?

October 10, 2012 Poetic Asides Prompt First Line by Robert Lee Brewer

Better Views 

Trees hide the better views,
so they say, but I say
trees are the views—
tall thick oaks like beloved grandfathers
lovely golden aspens shaking castanets
weeping willows swaying like hula dancers
cottonwoods with seeded fluff like children blowing bubbles
pine trees, ever green and pointing up, godly reminders,
poplars, maples, elm, tulip, hickory, birch, ash, larkspur—
all lovely views within themselves. See, really see, the trees.



October 9, 2012 First line by Robert Lee Brewer

Ready on the Set 

I’m not sure who I am or what I want.
Sometimes it feels like I’m an actor
in a bad movie, eager for a new one.
Sometimes it feels like I’m directing
my own movie, but everyone has forgotten
their lines. Sometimes it feels like
the commercial break—time to turn down
the volume, get a snack and wait
for something interesting to happen.
But sometimes I feel like the spunky,
driven protagonist, giving it all I’ve got,
knowing the end will turn out well.