the dog nurses
a pup that is not hers
February 14, 2017
I wrote this during National Haiku Writing Month, but didn’t feel like sharing it on Valentine’s Day. There are many different kinds of love.
at her feet
is no place
I wrote this for a prompt from #FieryVerse on January 6, 2017. If you are on Twitter, follow me to see these the same day that I write them. Don’t forget, while it’s easier to like and share on Twitter, you can like and share my blog posts as well.
was supposed to last
for one winter
but spring never came.
The snow smothered us
under a sunless sky.
This was written for a #FieryVerse prompt on Twitter on January 23, 2017. I need to get back into the poetry circles on Twitter and start looking at these prompts every day. There are amazing prompts on Twitter every day and I would probably find more to write about if I would look them up. It would also help if Twitter would just show me the tweets as they are posted instead of showing me the tweets of those I interacted with last. Don’t you hate that?
everyone wants an
honest answer from us
as long as it’s nice
So this is not really haiku, and I almost erased it except that people on Twitter liked it so much. This may be senryu, but I think it’s a stretch. Read the definition for senryu on my What is Haiku? page and tell me what you think in the comments on this post.
dead blooms fall
fantasies for the future
shatter soft on stone
I wrote this last year for a #fieryverse prompt on Twitter. I would encourage you to get on Twitter today, as it is #NationalHaikuPoetryDay and #NationalPoetryMonth. There will be a lot of haiku to enjoy if you look at those hashtags. Please leave some love for poets by retweeting their work or at least giving them a like today.
green smeared into swirls
does this make me one with the earth
his face when
we give him a new toy
Here is one of my longer poems. I will mostly share haiku this month.
Watching the Clock
How many hours do we spend watching
the steel hands sweep the face of time?
Praying for them to speed up
then days later wishing they’d slow down.
At some point in time you realize:
Watching the clock makes time go slower.
So you try to stop counting the minutes.
Then you wonder, When did I get crows feet?
When did I start calling the kids
begging them to come over?
Wasn’t it just yesterday
that I was pushing them out the door to play?
When laying in a hospital bed
you would almost swear that the nurses
turn back the clock when you’re not looking.
And the sluggish pace of the hands
are more painful than the IV in your arm.
But if you’re enjoying an Italian dinner
the minutes fly by like wine from a tipped glass.
Sitting in a rocking chair with a baby,
who has been crying for hours,
makes the minutes creep.
You encourage the big hand to touch the 6
so that your husband will be home to help.
When friends are over for a bar-b-que
the hands laugh their way past time to go.
The clock is a bi-polar warden,
and we are at his mercy.
does he have mine
or is it his dad’s temper
This picture is proof that I can do Pinterest projects and that Facebook is not a total waste of time. Do you ever argue with your spouse about where your child gets certain traits? Sometimes my husband and I can’t decide who he gets his characteristics from because my husband and I have similar temperaments.
bird’s chirp alarm’s ring
the sound of Missouri Spring
strong wind and hard rain
I live in Missouri and I am in Tornado Alley. This poem was written in the spring of 2015.
man with a German accent
takes our tickets