wordle:prepared, story, question, knowing, proof, journey Receive, house, city, win,

The Quest

Nothing prepared her for the story to unfold.

She sallied forth knowing very little, not even

what questions to ask, just that she needed   

proof of her own identity. The journey

stretched her beyond what she thought possible

and she received not only what she sought, but more—

a house to call her own, not far from the city

where her real parents grew up. She thought

she wouldn’t win, but with God’s help, she did. 

Wordle: turmoil, calories, information, anticipation, winter, must, pork, open, excellence, replaced

Calories Burn

O, the turmoil calories cause us women.

Nutritional information douses anticipation

of eating a gooey desert offered in kindness.

Cuddling up with a book in the winter

must be replaced with hours at the gym.

And it’s all to get a little thinner.  

O, okay, we need to get healthy, too.

Eating such things as chicken, not pork,

opens the door to excellence, theoretically. 

Creative Bloomngs lento

Afghan Hound

Black mask, long hair, long head, top knot

Back of the tail curls ‘round, so cute

White, gray, brown, golden, black, a lot

Bright, playful, dignified, aloof

Fine old breed from Afghanistan

Line bred to hunt and watch the herds

They’ve high hip bones and run, they can!

Brave and elegant beyond words

Poetic Asides building poem

A Building Poem

A skilled carpenter,

thrilled to build

a home that fulfilled

his sweetheart’s dreams.

He began building,

totally yielding

to her every whim.

It became a tower

of  power reaching

high to the sky.

He finished with a sigh.

Inside, he tried to reside

but he was tied to his bride

whom he could no longer abide

so he left and she cried.

There were too many rooms,

then the fumes,

the flames and the blames.

The building’s gone now.

Life resumes.

A flower blooms. 

Poetic Bloomings That's My Line

Hidden

Silence in the ocean in the world of fishes,

I think I’ll go there.

Daring to dream fantastic schemes and wishes.

I wonder why and where

God came up with such a plan to show off His beauty

Where no one else can see,

Creating such marvels beyond the call of duty

Hiding within the deep.

Pondering His extravagant creativity,

I think He features

Secret wondrous and amazing things

In all His creatures.

 “Silence in the ocean in the world of fishes, I think I’ll go there.” Noises Off by Vivinfrance

Poetic Bloomings Hey, That's My Line!

Make My Heart Your Home

Flood love to my heart, may it be Your home,

love like electricity giving light.

May faith like a welcome mat bid all come,

and joy be the kitchen, relaxed and bright.

May hope be the door You ask others in,

and peace be Your bed You lie upon here.

May goodness like curtains keep out the sin,

compassion, the paint on the walls for cheer.

May prayer be the walls that stand tall and strong,

and worship be music You sing along.

Holy Water by David DeJong—"Flood love to my heart may it be your home." 

Memories

The Stories Dad Used to Tell

One day, Dad spied a rabbit

munching lettuce.in the garden.

So he threw a stone to chase it out.

The rabbit fell as if dead.

When Dad went over and looked,

the rabbit jumped up and ran.

One day, Dad, while sunning on the porch said,

“About time that turtle comes through the yard,”

and looking up, he exclaimed,  

“And there it is!”

One day, Dad came from hunting

and a turkey followed him home.

Dad gave her to the neighbors

and she lived with their chickens,

even hatched some chicken eggs

and watched over “her” brood.

One day, Dad’s friends came

for a visit to see if Dad’s potatoes

were as huge as Dad had said.

Dad dug up a hill

and there were the two biggest spuds

he had ever seen.

His friends marveled.

Dad didn't unearth any more.

Mom said the first time she saw Dad,

he was walking off a headache.

Mom’s dad stopped the car

and asked him if he wanted a ride.

Dad declined, but asked if Ginny

could walk with him.

They walked together ever since.

Dad said the first time he saw Mom,

she was stealing apples from their porch. 

Haiku mutant

To-dos stack up like fire wood

Let me set the list aflame

And toast marshmallows 

Poetic Bloomings Parody

Zip-lining Today

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

We’re going to go zip-lining today

Flying high in the town of Skagway

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

Mr. Mountain Guide at my shoulder

Looking forward to such a delight

Would be great if I could stand the height

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

Now, I think, is a good time to pray

Looking down on a small world below

As I stand here way up in this tree

Ready to take deep breaths and a leap

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

My eyes are closed and I’m headed your way

So I’ve been there and got the tee shirt

And I’ve got to say, it’s only fair.

I think I’m done walking in thin air

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

I can think of other ways to play

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

I’m all done zip-lining today

I flew high in the town of Skagway

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

Poetic Asides Elsewhere

Poetic Discipline

My mind is elsewhere,

not on this poem:

reading a Mary Higgins Clark novel,

swimming laps in a pool,

laughing with my sisters,

walking with my husband,

in Phoenix with my kids,

in Alaska riding electric bikes,

coasting down a mountain in Maui,

worshiping at church,

but my body’s in my recliner

as I tap keys on my laptop

and look at my screen

between my cat’s ears.

Still another sijo

It’s the writing life for me, my computer is my friend.

I tap the keys, write what I please, until the story’s end.

And when it’s all nice and neat, I make a wish and hit send. 

Another Sijo

Hollow feelings pass through tip to toe, again and again.

Passing through with shivers of dread and anguish. O anguish!

Hearing my sister’s gasps and sobs, I know. I know. “Who?” I ask.

Sijo again

Rain poured down, creek ran high, July, nineteen seventy seven.

Next day, Dad checked his minnow trap. Geegosh! It had washed away!

Felt foolish, when he learned seventy-eight souls washed away as well. 

Sijo 2

Tiny sparks, scraps of tinder, a gentle wind, bright licking flame

Extending, lapping, growing, turning into a roaring fire

Friendly smile, a sincere handshake, welcoming eyes, well wishes 

Sijo

In God’s love, lie’s acceptance, hope, joy, through His Son Jesus

Like a bridge from a temporal world to an eternal planet

Yes, we follow the narrow way, but we’re not narrow-minded 

Poetic Asides Stress

Growing Roots

Like a tree needs

a certain amount of drought

to dig its roots down deep,

we need an allotment of

company coming over,

floors to be scrubbed,

children to be fed,

articles due,

publisher rejections,

contests lost,

pounds gained,

climbing crumbly cliffs,

bruised knees,

aches and pains,

flat tires,

money woes,

spousal arguments,

getting lost in the city,

because like an over-watered tree

boredom can kill you. 

abcb, 9 syllables, bum ba bum

The Great Outdoors

In the country where we kids grew up

I remember games we used to play

Statue, four square, acting out the shows

Sardines, hide and seek, outdoors all day

Splashing in the creek, and riding bikes

Sliding down the hills in winter time

Chasing lightning bugs and catching frogs

Finding tall and branchy trees to climb

It’s no wonder that when I’m indoors

Bright blue skies will beckon me to come

Wind, so fresh and sweet, whispers my name

Till I leave the confines of my home 

morning poem

It’s 4:48 AM

Our host home man is playing with the bathroom fan.

Our woman is calling like a humpback whale.

A flush, hubby’s up, too.

The cat’s awake, sitting on my lap,

perturbed she has to share with the computer.

Can I go back to bed now?

Probably not.

Time to pray.

The Lord’s awake, too.

Thankfully, He’s always awake.

from morning pages

Caring and Sharing

Years ago,

at Christmas time,

we kids would leave our gifts

out underneath the tree

for at least a week or so

 and others would come

and visit and see

what loot we had raked in.

It was like receiving gifts

all over again,

because we’d play together

throughout the year

and share our toys.

Now,  

as soon as possible,

we tidy up

and put our things away.

Poetic Bloomings water

From a Dry Land

My boyfriend from Wyoming

came to Pennsylvania for a visit.

As we crossed a ditch, he asked,

“Is this Shannon Creek?” I laughed

and pointed to a puddle saying,

“Yes, and that is Mirror Lake,  

or, at least, they would be in Wyoming.”

Sounds again

Morning Sounds

The whirr of my computer

The tap of the keys

J playing with toys

With nose to his knees

Tick of the clock

An isolated cough

The heat turning on

The heat turning off

Sounds

What Kind of Music Do You Like?

I find that an odd question.

I love all music, but played

at the wrong time could drive me batty.

A slow hymn while I’m trying to

clean the house could turn me

into a swearing woman.

Hard rock while I’m trying to sleep?

I could get violent.

I like to wake up to something mellow,

but happy like the Beach Boys.

Daytime chores is right for rock.

Exercise—peppy Celtic.

Dinner—instrumental.

Driving—country.

Writing and painting—classical.

Bedtime—slow praise music.

Music is like humor.

It’s all in the timing.

Poetic Asides This is

This Is What It Is

No side-stepping,

second guessing,

going back, but

face it head on,

deal with it,

get over it,

get real.

But there’s

always plan B.  

Nove Otto

Ice Skater

She glides along just like a swan,

No feathers, but a silken gown.

Her limbs are stretched so gracefully.

The wind flows through her fine blond hair,

With grace and speed, without a care.

Ecstatic, her spirit soars free.  

A tiny girl with giant dreams

From sidelines watches, wishes, schemes.

She sighs, “If only it were me!”

free verse

Waiting

The Christmas tree’s twinkling lights

Shine bright in the morning’s darkness

Dozens of ornaments hide in the shadows

A candy cane here, a shiny ball there.

Soon they will all be stored away

We like ornaments on a tree

Await permanence, relevance

Triolet

Morning Sounds

The furnace roars to life this wee AM

My cat sits on my lap and chirps and purrs

The clock tick tock ticks over and again

The furnace roars to life this wee AM

My heart so beats in time with all of them

The big refrigerator creaks and whirs

The furnace roars to life this wee AM

My cat sits on my lap and chirps and purrs

Poetic Bloomings sounds

Laughing toy monkey

Once so hilarious

Now sounds like a machine gun

alouette

The Flu

The tree’s still up

Have hot tea in cup

Could be a nice quiet time

But I’m feeling blue

‘cause I have the flu

I’m feeling not so sublime

The tissues mount high

I cough, groan and sigh

This turns the day to a dud

So pass the Nyquil

And some day I will

Escape this miserable crud

abc, 123

Country Church

Church

Trees, hills

Valley, peace

Search

God wills

Sweet release

Perch

God fills

Brings increase

Poetic Asides Weird

Weird

W hacky and wonderful

E xplosive and calm

I nsane and creative

R idiculous and sensible

D isturbing and peaceful

Poetic Bloomings alouette

20014

Two thousand fourteen

We come, sight unseen

For we know not what’s in store

The last year was kind

Please, have the same mind

As we all step through this door

Let great dreams come true

And trouble be few

Be gentle with the weather

May we walk in peace

May our joys increase

And hearts be knit together