Here’s a few of my daily poetry efforts:

Revved Up


Underlying current of contentment

wraps around my days despite minor

eruptions interrupting surface tension.

Breathing back to center’s balance,

I feel foolish for the outburst.

Usually directed at the computer,

the burst means too much sitting.

Time to get back to work in the front yard

transforming overgrown azaleas

and Rhododendrons into flower display.

Why I waited so long before changing

this area in prior springs is a mystery

but here I am working out PC grumpiness…

digging, prying, pulling them free.

Pausing to rest, a salamander moves

across freshly turned earth.

Squealing my delight, he’s scooped up

for inspection – lucky no wounds on his

delicate skin; warming in my hands,

his locomotion revved up to scramble.

Tucking him under a safe zone shrub,

childhood memories of other little creatures

revive imagination putting breath back into art.

4/4/2013  Marguerite Duras said, “When the past is recaptured by the imagination, breath is put back into life.”




Last few nights, storm clouds hide the stars.

I forego my midnight ritual… too wet for me

but the dogs are getting antsy.

Opening the door to the backyard,

their eyes radiate that woe-be-gone-plead.

It’s hard to ignore the soft eyed disappointment;

giving in to the inevitable with reluctance,

they trudge down the steps into

the downpour to answer nature’s call.

Looking up into steady rain, wind gusts

shake evergreen’s free of accumulated water.

Towel at the ready, most mud gets cleared

from eight wriggling paws.


Days of deluge…

not a dry spot to be found;

storms undulations…

not a star to be seen;

nothing but waterlogged dreams of uncertainty…

4/5/2013  “For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” — Vincent Van Gogh


Tending Time

I keep misplacing deadlines;

my desk overflows with to-do clutter

that I shift from pile to pile but time

won’t stand still for organization.

What have I been doing?

OK… there was the week of sun

that determined out door gardening;

the walks around the reflecting pond.

IRS tax preparation took a big chunk

of daylight as I made three different trips…

I did save money as it was free.

Lots of online store adjustments, new

Spring photographs and image entries…

there was paperwork for my son;

the cranky computer was serviced.

Allergy problems cropped up…

without naps, I prevailed.

The older dog has skin problems;

the new kitten races through it all.

Maybe I need roller blades…



Established Time of Departure

I miss the sound of my mother’s voice

and my father’s laugh complicated by silly grins.

I’m vaguely aware of my grandmother’s brogue

or my grandfather’s soft voice but his stories are gone.

Sound memories pass into shadows drifting

with incomplete images that faded photos renew.

I know my son’s attachment will follow his life

without me; I’m his caregiver and only friend.

My daughter moved away early; our communication

has been through cyber sources for the most part.

Rare phone calls and occasional visits fill in the loose

contact with me as she is so gloriously independent.

Does she realize that my time is shortening?

The horizon is welling up in the near distance;

with any luck, I’ll have extended space in this world

but one never knows ETD or the final details of how.

4/8/2013  ETD – established time of departure




Eating the exact same lunch:

bread, cheese, salad and fruit…

I don’t see why I should stop.

Bread, cheese, soup, and fruit –

eating the exact same super, I am

quite happy to go on with some routine.

Be daring and take chances,

nah… wanting to seem normal,

I stayed foolishly safe for a long time.

I now fight the training to fit in;

creativity is my love, my essence,

my reach for the star strewn heaven.

The great fun in my life is defying the

You should be creative from eight to twelve

and from two to six or whatever drone schedule.

guardian powers are channeling my dreams

into the daylight or midnight; I’m resigning

from licking honey off of thorns.

4/9/2013  Louis Adamic said, “My grandfather always said that living is like licking honey off a thorn.”


Bon Appétit


My only way to travel: recipes.

Exotic exhibits fill plate or bowl.

Wanderlust is confined by low income;

my fridge has naked shelves too.

Tenacity carries world flavors;

extravagant items can be scored

with discount sales or coupons.


I have a vivid imagination.

Bon Appétit!