Embracing Wholeness

lately, I think a lot about wholeness
wondering if it allows for a hole

if you look at the word wholeness
you will see hole

if you embrace all that you are
you will cherish the hole

it’s where genuine compassion resides

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Never Go Back

caring communities take time
to listen to concerns
and chat about viable compromises

they make contact
and serve for decades

they bring along a new generation
to assure a state of progress
for them, regression is not an option

Written for The Sunday Whirl.  The words are care, community, listen, concerns, collaborate, serve, decades, state, compromising, contact, time, chat.  I used all the words in some form.

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dismissed in a moment
he pondered the why of it

as the suits looked past him
in the veined marble hall

his mind spiraled down a hole
 seeking solace in sleep

Written for Red Wolf Poems Wordle #25.  The words are holes, hall, sleeping, spiral, moment, dismissed, looked, suits, pondered, veined, solace.  I used some form of all the words.

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Fishing and Swimming with Dwight

we fished from a shaded creek bank

a can for worms, a jar for grasshoppers
and a water bucket for the catch

my younger brother, Dwight
skillfully hooked the wigglers and hoppers

the creek water was cold, deep, and dark
home to tree roots and snakes

but still, we jumped in

our neighbor, Mrs. King
dressed and froze his minnow catches

when there was enough
she held a fish fry for him

Sharing my poem with Red Wolf Poems where I wrote this week’s prompt – to write a poem about a childhood memory.

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Charmed Day


Charmed Day

soaking up a charmed day
not chopped by the office

but marked by
the spring of rabbits

home-baked almond cookies
and sips of plum wine

grassy steps to a bubbling stream
my dress – the color of lilacs

steaming, belly warming broth
and brie toast

under the first stars of the evening
beside the sparks of a fireplace

falling deep into dreams
of a charmed day

Inspired by Red Wolf Poems’ Wordle #22.  The words are in the photo above and I used all twenty-four words in some form.

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It Won’t Matter


It Won’t Matter

Written by you or not,
at the end of your bucket list
is the entry:  Meeting with God.

It won’t matter one iota
if you believed in the shining,
pearly gates of heaven and
the verses in a bewildering, sacred text.

It won’t matter
if you scattered kindness
your entire life or
blackened everyone’s days.

The secret will finally be revealed.
Is God a vibration or what?
Or…is God not?

Written for Red Wolf Poems’ Wordle #21.  I used some form of the following words:  vibration, God, bucket, kindness, scattering, bewilderment, shining, blackened, pearl, verse, sacred, heaven, secrets, writing.

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My Writing Process Tour

Yay!  I’m joining a blog tour today, My Writing Process.  Thank you, Michelle Pond, for inviting me.

Readers, you can find Michelle on her blog, MAPoet.  There you will find her poetry and a link to her published collection titled I Keep You With Me.  Michelle and I met as founding members of an online community of writers, Wordsmith Studio.

This blog tour is about answering three questions and introducing you to other writers.  In addition to Michelle, I’ve chosen three poets and I’ll introduce them a little later in this post.

Now for the questions:

1.  What am I working on?

Poetry, of course.  I’m gathering my poems to see if it is possible to achieve chronological order.  You could say I plan to look at my personal journey through a window called poetry.  One day I may have a poetic memoir.

I’m also in the research stage of a commercial project with a dear friend.  We are creating a product using her photography and my poetry.  Stay tuned.

2.  Why do I write what I do?

I’m a person who always reads.  I mean always, even at red lights.  But after my husband died, I found I could no longer read.  My mind was like a sieve.  I’d read a few pages and not remember what I’d read.  I didn’t know it at the time, but I was going through a metamorphosis.

The first thing I found that spoke to me deeply was Leonard Cohen’s lyrics.  I listened to his songs over and over and over.  All his lyrics are poetry.  Later, I listened to Bob Dylan’s lyrics which are different from Cohen’s, but still poetry.  I listened over and over and found I was singing along.   Even later,  I found I could finally read…poetry.   It was food for my soul.  I read it morning, noon, and night, even at red lights.  Still later, I began to write my poetry on hundreds of scraps of paper, in margins of books, and in notebooks.  Poetry was the only thing true enough, raw enough, succinct enough to hold my attention and fill me up.  It still does.  Poetry is my go-to place for truths, both dark and light, a place for finding wholeness and what’s so.

3.  How does my writing process work?

I enjoy writing wordles and prompted poems because they allow me to step away from my usual choice of words and topics.  I write these poems immediately upon reading the prompt, which means I write them at my desk.  One of the joys of writing prompted poems is the opportunity to connect in virtual communities with poets from all over the world.

First, I write with a pen and paper, just get the idea down.  When I type the piece, I edit.  I rearrange sentences or change the wording.  I don’t struggle or work at writing.  If it doesn’t flow, I don’t write it.  Since writing isn’t my day job, I refuse to have it be work.  I’m not a perfectionist with my poems, and I am gentle with myself when I make errors.

If I write essays or something other than a prompted poem, I like to write outside in nature or at a café.  Today, I started writing this piece at a shaded table in a park off Main Street.  When the temperature rose to uncomfortable, I moved to a noisy coffee shop for lunch, and continued to write.  Often I write in my backyard swing under a huge dogwood, the biggest I’ve ever seen.

As a poet, I don’t write to please others, but I value and enjoy comments made by others on my blog.  I also value and enjoy the companionship of a small group of writers that I meet with in person once a month for dinner and sharing our work.

I leave you with introductions to three poets I met while writing wordles for  The Sunday Whirl, my favorite wordle site.  I wanted to introduce you to poets who live in different countries; and poets who write from their whole selves.

IIrene Toh for the blog tour

Irene Toh lives on a tropical island. She started blogging her poems in 2009 and has shown no sign of stopping yet. She believes writing to prompts and being part of a virtual poetic community works a kind of potent magic in making poems appear. She writes about fall and plums, spring and lilacs, summer and fishes, winter and bears. Mostly she’s inspired by the moon and the stars. She is co-administrator of We Write Poems (now renamed Red Wolf Poems) and Red Wolf Journal.  Irene blogs at Orange Is A Fruit.

Pam for blog

Pam Sayers lives in the beautiful city of Puebla, Mexico.  She is an English teacher and has been for twelve years.  She lives with her two dogs, Flaubert and Shamrock, her cat, Back and a parrot, Chucho.  Pamela likes a good book, listening to music, and eating new foods.  Mexico has been a great source of inspiration for her writing.  She is published online and in print.  Pam blogs at wordsandthoughtspjs.

Brenda Warren 2

Brenda Warren lives and teaches in the state of Montana in the U.S.A.  Although it is summer and school is officially out, Brenda is still busy with workshops.  She and her husband have a new love in their life, a Beagle puppy named Berkeley.  Brenda is the creator of the wordle site, The Sunday Whirl, and she blogs at Undercaws.



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he summoned his interns with a whistle
a unique call for each

you wished to see his remains
go up a chimney or off a cliff

his drinking habit had ripped the family
and split their fortune

but he continued to drill pits
and cover decay with porcelain

Written for The Sunday Whirl.  The words this week are wish, porcelain, split, cliff, whistle, rip, chimney, habits, drilled, six, fortunes, drink, pit.  There are thirteen words this week and I decided to use twelve words, in some form.  I could have used the work six  as the number of interns, but decided the poem flowed better without it.

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I Am A River

Angela (Alex) Weddle's PaintingSan Antonio Riverwalk #1
Angla (Alex) Weddle

I Am A River

I am a deep river
entangled and flowing free

murky dark
and sparkling with light

sometimes hidden from view
other times flowing for all to see

at my deepest
I am cold, swift, and overpowering

but I curve gently at the bend
and dance with the edges

most times I allow you
to float safely on me

Connecting this evening with Red Wolf Poems and dVerse Poets Pub.  Red Wolf offered Weddle ‘s painting San Antonio Riverwalk #1 as this week’s prompt; and of course this is open link night at dVerse.  To both, I offer my poem I Am A River.


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Pigeons or Doves

Pigeons or doves
I sometimes wonder

Smiling, I remember
The doves she kept.
The flutter of their wings
And squeak of their cage
Under cover of an open-ended shed.
Do doves mate for life?

Surveying my memory
I can report
She also kept lop eared rabbits
In a waist-high cage
In the shade under tall pines.
Did they yearn for the ground?

Laughing, I remember
We brought two of her rabbits
Home to our backyard.
Even with a latch and brick
On their hatch, we’d find them
Atop the shed.
I was struck by their need for
Height, not ground.

Traveling north, still in memory
My face softens remembering
Rabbit boxes planted in fields.
Rabbit is now priced as a delicacy
At Whole Foods.

Meeting of moments, then and now
I still ask
Pigeons or doves?

Written for The Sunday Whirl.  The words are pigeons, mate, flutter, struck, laugh, smile, face, report, survey, need, meeting, north, treat, squeak.  There are fourteen words this week, instead of twelve.  I used thirteen.





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