Sunday, August 30, 2015

Phoenix Rising Wars

Morning Wars

She must have heard my room door creak
For she’d be waiting at my chair
The war would start with laptop there
Between her ears I’d have to peek
While stroking fur so soft and sleek
I’d try to nudge her to the side
But she would move where screen would hide
The battles drove me clear insane
But I would like to fight again              
I sure miss Snickers since she died

Saturday, August 29, 2015

Another unpoem

In Case You’re Wondering

When I don’t have time
to write a poem
I just type empty thoughts
and call it good.
This, my dear readers,
is how I manage
to write a poem a day.

For 8 28 15


This is one of those days
When poems are stuck somewhere in the ether
No images, insights or inspiration
No muse, meditations or manifestations
No angst, anxiety or aspirations
Just a glaring to-do list
Shouting, “Forget the poetry!”

Thursday, August 27, 2015

PA gripe

Writer’s Gripe

I’d write if I had time.
It’s nice you have something to keep you busy.
Why don’t you get a real job?

You have 24 hours like I do.
I have plenty to keep me busy, thank you very much.
I’ve got a real job, how about you?

Poetic Asides gripe

Passing the Buck

I called the doctor
to have her call the pharmacist
for a refill of my medicine.
The answering machine
said to call the pharmacist
and have him fax a request.
I called the pharmacist
and he said to have the doctor
call in an order.
It reminded me of when I was a kid
when I wanted to do something
Mom said, “Ask Dad,” and
Dad said, “Ask Mom.”
I’d say, “Dad, Mom said it was okay,
if you say it’s okay.”
That usually worked.
I wonder if it will work
with the doctor and the pharmacist.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015


Almost There

I huffed and puffed
up the switchbacks
of the Hope Lake trail
while the woman with me
hiked with ease.
A person passing us said,
“Are we almost there?”
My hiking partner assured her
“You’re almost there.”
After the hiker was gone,
my friend said, “I lied.”
I didn’t have much faith
in her after that
when she said,
“It’s just around the corner.”

Aug 24th hike

Hope Lake

It was worth hiking up
thirty-some switch backs
to meet the mountains
up close and personal.
To see the strips of falls
snaking their way down
vertical slopes.
To watch the clear stream
rushing over rocks through
reddish-orange Indian paint brush,
yellow violets,
deep purple lupine.
Thank You Lord
Creator of it all. 

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Quickie poem

like an anchor
weighs down the soul
preventing adventures
of sailing across the lake
with the wind. 

PRPG Returns


Do you remember collecting
pop bottles when you were a kid?
Going from door to door
to neighbor’s houses.
Getting a few cents each.
My friend and I did this.
We bought plastic sheeting
and thumb tacks
and built a cabin in the woods.
One night, she, my sister and I
slept in our cabin.
In the middle of the night
we had to find a board
to place at the bottom,
because we built it on a slope
and we kept sliding down.
There was a cliff not far off.
Later some boys wrecked our creation.
Though their parents made them apologize,
we never rebuilt.

Friday, August 21, 2015

decima wordle

My Auntie’s House

A visit to my auntie’s house
I do remember it so well
No groveling about to tell
At times she cuddled with her spouse
The memories hide like a mouse
Rejecting sadness and despair
Amazed by how she’d love and care
A gasp of wonder at it all
We’d play, we’d dance, we’d have a ball
All worries melting while we’re there

Thursday, August 20, 2015

PA wordle paddle robot custard quibble wrench

Camp Counselor

The paddles row mechanically
Seems like a robot joined the scouts
Brain feels like custard through the shouts
The children quibble querulously
I glance at sunset anxiously
Expect a wrench to jar the works
Pretending they don’t act like jerks
I lead by duty with a smile
Transporting them another mile
I hope next job will have more perks 

Wednesday, August 19, 2015



The clasp upon your heart is closed
I wail within my lonely soul
Then shush myself to take control
My thoughts do spin with hurt exposed
My heart withdraws and feels enclosed
I’ll jump and cling to any hope
I dream of love like one thick rope
But slip into a funk and stew
Content myself with loving you
And hum a tune so I won’t mope

Tuesday, August 18, 2015


A Poem

I wonder what this poem will be
A screech in silence of the night
A flame that burns with dancing light
A pile of words confusing me
A nut that’s hidden in a tree
A creak of shivers up my spine
A squirt of lemon while I dine
A touch that comforts and consoles
A way to grow and reach my goals
A crinkle in this life of mine 

Monday, August 17, 2015

Another decima

An Invitation

Outdoors invites me to come play
To find in time what I have lost
With open eyes to see the cost
Expose my busy life today
I’ll take some time to seek and pray
And fly in face of busyness
To check for actions to confess
Yes, grip and cling to what is good
Which whisper freedom from this mood
Thus cling to nature’s happiness 

Sunday, August 16, 2015

PRPG celebration

Family Reunion

We gather in the summer sun
Arriving crumpled from the trip
And brushing off our jokes to quip
We’ve no holds barred to having fun
We spend our time while on the run
Surrounded by our families
We peel back time in memories
And look ahead with joy and hope
We know, with sisters, we can cope
In next two years, the time will flee

Saturday, August 15, 2015



For a grand kick-start to your day,
Just close your eyes and make a wish
And follow dreams, like cat a fish.
God has designed you for His plan.
So be alerted. Take a stand.
Some people doubt they can bring change.
He cheers you on. Don’t think it strange.
He laughs at what you think too hard,
Yet welcomes you to be His pard.
Remember all He can arrange.

Friday, August 14, 2015


Untended Garden

A wilted rose with head hung low
Encircled in a wall of stones
Like weavings spun in golden tones
A tangled heap of weeds to show
Their stems were bent like archer’s bow
I wandered there by accident
And shook the gate till it relent 
I slammed it shut behind me there
Escaped to set about repair
And blessed in how my time was spent

Thursday, August 13, 2015

From a photo of Phoenix

Photo of Phoenix

A wall of brown
over Phoenix
where my kids are.
At least it’s not a hurricane,
like it was when my daughter
lived in Louisiana
while I sat nervously
a thousand miles away
as she evacuated.
Then when she returned home,
she’d talk to me on the phone
while she checked the toilet
for critters.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Poetic Asides Tired

No Sleeping Pills Necessary

As kids, we’d run barefoot
through the grass,
over bridges,
and even pebbled drives.
We’d play in the creek,
roll in tires and boxes down hills.
We’d hike
and bike
and swim
and roller skate
and swing on grape vines
and fling crabapples at each other
and explore the hills, creeks and woods.
We’d play ball, badminton, and croquet,
chase fireflies and capture peep frogs.
We’d play Statue, Tag, and Hide and Seek
and pretend we were on the old shows,
Gilligan Island, The Man from Uncle, and Star Trek.
We’d sled in the winter,
and build snowmen and snow forts
and have snowball fights.
We’d get roped into garden work,
washing cars, raking leaves, gathering nuts.
And when our heads hit our pillows at nights,
no counting sheep for us.
We’d know nothing till morning.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015


The Cellar

Growing up years,
when my sister
had to go down to our cellar,
she’d have me go with her.
I’d roll my eyes and go down there
with my naive notion
that all the creaks, thumps,
and whines were explainable.
No ghosts. No boogey men. No wild animals
slipping down the concrete block steps
into that dark, dank, musty place
where the water pump whirred and rapidly chugged
and the furnace roared,
and a large pile of coal waited to be burned.
I’d pull the chain to the single light bulb to see
walls lined with lots of shelves holding jars
of jams and jellies, pickles, potatoes,
spiced apples, green beans, and tomatoes,
and a bin where I’d almost fall in
trying to retrieve seven spuds.
A big freezer filled with fish, (bass and trout mostly),
and deer meat. We didn’t call it venison.
A Santa cup sat on a shelf.
Why it was down there and not
with the other Christmas things in the attic,
I’ll never know.
Beyond that
underneath the porch
a dark room loomed.
A storage room
filled with who-knows-what.
Even as brave as I was then,
I left it to hold its treasures.

Monday, August 10, 2015

Poetic Asides Evasive


E vasive
L ike a slippery eel
U nderneath a river’s ripples.
S uccess
I nsists on stepping further back.
V ictory
E ver sweet and ever far away.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

PRPG seasons

Colorado Seasons

Some winters are snowy
Some dry as a bone
The nights are the coldest
We stay in our homes

The springs they will fool you
Nice one day and then snow
Makes it hard for the planning
When you’re ready to go.

What’s that sound on the roof?
Could it be rain?
Will the fires be bad?
Enjoy blue skies while we can.

The aspens glow golden
The oak blushes red
The geese all fly south
Now winter’s ahead

See how quickly
First verse went to last
That’s how it seems
The seasons fly past

Saturday, August 8, 2015



P ine scent
E ssence of sage. Angel
T rumpets’ sweet perfume
R oses, lilacs, flowering plum
I breathe in fresh fragrances
C arried on zephyrs
H ealing, reviving
O mnipresent Love, I
R eceive Your presents 

Friday, August 7, 2015


They say they admire me.
They couldn’t do what I do.
What they’re really wondering,
Is she a saint or insane?

Thursday, August 6, 2015


Walled in 
I hear You say
Let my people go
to worship me.
Set a wall of freedom
about me.

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

PA Remember the Blank

Remember the Promise

Do you remember when you said
You’d stay and never leave me here
To be alone from year to year
And now I’m here and you are dead
With sanity hung by a thread
Remember fun times that we had
Good times as well as pretty bad
You made a promise you can’t keep
And now the aching runs heart deep
I promise you I won’t be sad 

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

PA dead


We’re like a Jack-in-the-Box
with “Pop! Goes the Weasel” playing.
Round and round.
Day in day out.
Then Pop!
That’s the way the living goes. 

Monday, August 3, 2015

PRPG mode of travel

Electric Biking through Victoria 

At first a little bulky
A little confusing
A little scary
Give it a try.
Now for the ride.
Pedal along.
Time for the electric part.
Put it in gear.
Zip up the hill.
Past the tourists in horse-drawn wagons.
Past the shimmering lake at sunset.
Watch out peacock.
Feeling like a pro now.
Must give it back.


Walled In

When we’re walled in
And want to be free
All we need to do
Is worship thee.

When pain is strong
And joys are few
Help me do everything
To worship You

Aug 2 PA alert


A wake and clear headed
L oving the bright and alive feeling
E ver-aware of things to do and places to be
R evitalized to live life with a smile
T ill you’re not 

Aug 1 PA open


Welcoming arms
An honest friend
A restaurant
A store at ten

A patient’s mouth
Eyes wide awake
A gapped circuit
Ground in a quake

A meeting’s topic
A progressive mind
An opportunity
A venetian blind

July 31 PRPG

The Secret Garden

How many times
have I visited
that quiet place
with flaming flowers,
a tree swing,
and baby animals.
Where friendships blossom
miracles happen and
the rest of the world stays out.

July 30 PRPG

Devil’s Bridge, Sedona Arizona

People climb up
Look over pines
And red rocks
Take pictures

Some die

July 29 PRPG Repurposed

In Residence

Artists and writers
Can apply
To win a week
At the old fire tower
Among the
Mountain lions
And bears.
No thank you.