PA treat

Getting Things Done

I coax myself along

with little treats

like a carrot

dangling in front

of a mule’s nose.

Write a chapter,

take a walk.

Clean the bathroom,

read a novel chapter.

Do the next online task,

have a cup of tea

with cream and sugar

and a chocolate.

But sometimes,

skipping the work

and being lazy

is treat enough.

PA treat

Treat

T antalizing and enticing

R adically inviting

E xtravagance, pleasure

A nd delight.

T oday, let’s treat you right

                     -Cruise Ship

thank you acrostic

Thank You

T hank You for Your love and care and

H ow You bless me every day.

A mazing love, none can compare

N ew songs of joy, You guide my way

K ind and caring,

Y ou’re so great

O ne and only God, we all

U nderestimate. 

Phoenix Rising Euphony and Cacophony

Ending Well

His rejection kicked her in the stomach.

Her heart broke, leaving jagged edges.

Her soul vibrated with bitterness.

She faked a smile and packed her baggage.

He pursued her in the silvery moonlight,

whispering his remorse in soothing tones.

Romance danced rhythmically about her.

as she slipped on the shimmering ring.

Poetic Asides patchwork

Patchwork Quilt

My day is like a patchwork quilt

A patch of poetry

A square or three of yummy meals

And yes, of course, hot tea

A swatch of cleaning up the house

A piece of quiet time

Some squares of making calls to friends

Some reason and some rhyme

A patch of shopping for the deals

Piece work of reading books

Imagination here and there

And fancy bits for looks

A patch of favorite TV shows

A piece to walk and run

A bit of inspiration time

Some squares for games and fun

Some bits of smiles, laughter and hugs

A patch of giving care

All held together with gold threads

Of love, promise and prayer 

Phoenix Rising onomatopoeia and alliteration

Sounds of Love in a Second Family

This morning’s moments mostly

consist of kitty contriving

to cuddle my computer

while my fingers tappity tappity

out a poem until she purrs

and sits perfectly still,

and hubby singing softly

while choppity chopping cheese

and sausage for our

lovely lady’s breakfast,

and our man meandering by

bustling about with a bangity boom

of his noisy toys. 

Poetic Asides disappointment

Disappointments,  

like bumps in the road,

can be large or small.

They can cause you to pause or stall.

But faith doesn’t let them

keep you from moving at all. 

Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild Sounds of Love

Sounds of Love from a Childlike Man

He can’t say, “I love you.”

But though I’m not his mother,

he says, “Mum-mum,”

gives me clicks for kisses

and serenades me, flutist-like

with the low, soothing sounds

of a vacuum cleaner hose.

Phoenix Guild Sounds of Love

Amidst  clanks of hammer on spikes,

shouts, jeers, sobs—

sounds of love,

“Father, forgive them.”

Poetic Asides Free

Invisible Chains

I should go outside

Tip my head back in the wind

Feel the sun on my shoulders

Breathe in the fresh air

Blow the stink off,

as my aunt would say.

When I was a kid,

I didn’t have to be asked twice

to play outdoors.

They say the way they train an elephant

is to chain its leg until it gets used to being bound.

And when the elephant is free to go,

it stays put.

Sometimes I feel like that elephant.

Poetic Asides State of

State of Faith

His confidence is severed, and his trust is a spider's web. Job 8:13

Lord, sometimes I feel

 like my faith is like a spider’s web,

 fragile and holey.

You said faith is like a mustard seed,

starting small

but growing into a large, spreading plant.

God, grow my faith, please.

 Sometimes I feel like it hasn’t even broken ground yet.

Please grant me ground-breaking,

leaf-growing,

limbs-stretching-to-the-sun faith.

Poetic Asides Resolutions

I Resolve

I resolve to make no New Year’s resolutions,

just to work on my projects more

and practice time wasters less. 

PA New Year's Resolution prompt

I resolve to write every day

And when I don’t write every day

I resolve not to worry too much about it

But pick up the next day

And if I don’t pick it up the next day

or the next or the next or the next

I resolve to go to counseling

Because I’ll need it.

Postcard #29

Shiprock, New Mexico

The ship with rocky sails

Drifts in the desert sea

Beneath a purplish sky

Where eagles soar high and free

Pirate ghosts of the galleon

Laugh in the whispering wind

Seeking treasure through eternity

Bound by their greed and sin

Postcard # 28

Colorado

Ravens raucous cries call from fragrant pines.

Mineral water washes my palate.

Crisp, cool air caresses me.

Mountains rise like meringue.

I’m dwarfed by God's grandeur,

enlarged by His love.

Postcard # 27

Look Up

L et’s look up

O pen our eyes to the sky

O pen our eyes to beyond

K eep hope and joy alive

U nderstand it’s  not

P ossessions that last

            Look up!

Postcard # 26

Verdant Valley

I can imagine walking

through a Colorado valley

before houses, vehicles

and telephone wires,

feeling small but

significant in magnificence. 

Postcard # 25

In glowing orange sky

Appearing as fantasy

An elk silhouette

Postcard # 24

We’re a long way from Pittsburgh.

More blue, less green

Here the red mountain

sticks out of the trees

like the bare back from the fur

of a dog with mange.

We’re a long way from Pittsburgh.

Postcard # 23

In the mountains,

tranquility often turns to fear.

Better to breathe in beauty

from a distance.

Postcard #22

The male mallards’ green heads

shimmer in the morning sun.

The dull-feathered females

blend in unobtrusively.

Together they create

fluffy balls of cuteness

that inspire our “awwws.”

Postcard #21

Mesa Verde

The ruins pay tribute

to a past civilization.

Ghosts lurk in dark recesses,

chuckling at curious tourists.

Postcard # 20

The Ancestral Puebloans

had a room for everything

in their stone houses.

When the moon shone bright

and romance was in the air,

did they have honeymoon suites? 

Postcard # 19

The Elk

He fills his stocky body

with luscious grass.

His slender legs walks through 

rugged mountains and fertile valleys.

His many-spiked rack

shows he’s lived long.

When he’s felled quickly,

I will not feel sorry for him,

well, maybe a little bit.

Postcard # 18

Poetry

The mountains appear as clouds,

reminding me that poetry 

turns clouds to mountains.

Postcard # 17

The Artist

You can tell a lot

about an artist
by what he creates.

Postcard # 16

Mesa Verde

The cliff opened its mouth

and its teeth

were mud houses.

Its hair and beard,

cedar and pinon. 

Postcard #15

Columbine

How can anyone

see the purple star with white tips

and the white rounded pinafore

with touches of matching purple

accenting a contrasting yellow center,

with purple streamers

and not believe

in an Artist?