It’s such a rainy day today,
So cold and damp and drear.
I curl up where it’s warm and dry,
But oh the birds I hear!
Chirping, cooing, twittering,
Laughing, singing free!
The sound of happiness in song
Is worth the rain to me.

No surprise to anyone, this is my “sound” Quadrille for Victoria’s lovely prompt at


Songbird Sing

A Hummingbird Visits

Really Been Loved

Your Father Knows

Friendly Soil

Bring in the rototiller,
The plow and tractor too,
And don’t forget the mower,
Shovel, rake and other tools!

It’s time to plant the garden,
And it’s got to be just right,
Or else the crops and people
Will be in quite a plight!

So stir the soil with gusto,
And compost it real well.
The garden could be heaven,
Or perhaps a living hell.

Now I must tell you something:
We have left the best behind.
How can we tend the garden,
And forget to tend the mind?

Björn asks us to write about soil over at
dVerse Poetics.


Garden Growing

Springing Up

The Trouble with Spring

Welcome, Springtime!

Where I Want You

I thought I had you where I wanted you–
Read and recited,
Pages turned,
Chapters ended,
Stories told,
A book closed without regret.
But you echo like Shakespeare through my mind,
long gone,
never forgotten.
And that’s not where I want you,
is it?

De’s Quadrille word is echo over at
Come join us! Read, respond, write, enjoy the Q!

Perfect Union

You whisper to me,
and I do not hear.

You blow through my mind
like a gentle breeze,
soft, unruffled
breath of love.

You touch my heart
as the morning sun,
shining me awake
in the dawn of your presence.

You speak to my soul
without words, without sound,
sweet music made
when we dance together.

You whisper to me,
and I do not hear–
perfect union.

The Spirit has whispered many poems this month! Some funny, some serious, some more Metaphysical, some right up front for all to see. I’m grateful for each one, and all the poets who commit to this opening of heart, mind, soul, and time to bring art into a world in need! Thanks also to the readers–without you, our words would fall on dry soil!


Only a Whisper will Do

Wedding Prayer

Soul Reflection

IWalk this Floor

I walk this floor and cannot see.
So please don’t walk in front of me!

I ask and ask, but to and fro,
My path is still the way they go.

Perhaps I need to wear a sign:
Those feet are yours, and these are mine.

And if they cross, we both go down.
I walk this floor, so walk around!

Oh be ye person, dog or foul,
Please find another place to prowl.

This house is big enough, you see.
I walk this floor. So let me be!

Remember as you end your day,
The vacuum has a place to stay.

And put things back where they belong
Before the nighttime comes along.

If one dark night the power goes,
You’ll need a torch or lantern’s glow.

And you will have to ask me where.
I just might find them, if I care.

I live here too, not having sight.
But I’m not giving up my rights.

You see the people, pets and more.
But don’t forget: I walk this floor!

This poem is true. It’s funny, unless you’re the one tripping over, colliding with, banging into, knocking over, or otherwise having unpleasant encounters with people, pets, and assorted obstacles–not in an unfamiliar place, but at home. It’s not what I usually write, as I don’t like to dwell on these things. But sooner or later, everything must come to light! Please remember, whomever you meet in your daily life, show some (un)common human respect for them!

Shared at
dVerse OpenLinkNight #196

Prayers with Airs

In e-ve-ry way
this penultimate day
of National Poetry writing,
I feel a great need
to wonder and grieve
for all the big words they are citing!

Now penultimate means
that my pen is a fiend.
Not really but how can you know it?
It’s dumb and absurd
using uncommon words
for the fancified voice of a poet.

And so I wanna say
this penultimate day,
remember what Jesus admonished…
TO be heard in your prayers,
don’t put on any airs.
Say the words in your heart and be honest!

Day 29 and holding… Penultimate means next-to-last. I’ve never used that word in my life! Today it’s just to prove a point.

What Jesus said was:

“And when you pray, you shall not be like the hypocrites. For they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. And when you pray, do not use vain repetitions as the heathen do. For they think that they will be heard for their many words. (Matthew 6:5,7, NKJV)

A Single Tear

Oh dear! A tear!
It’s clear, I fear.

Upon my face
a big disgrace,
where in its place
a smile should race.

It hurt me so
to learn and know
the status quo:
Don’t let it show!

But on the spot
I plum forgot!
Untied the knot
to dump the lot.

The tear fell down
without a sound.
And lost, I found
I didn’t drown!

But kept the pace
and learned to face
the inner space,
my feeling place,
without disgrace.
The truth I trace:
This human race
would better place,
if as a base
we built in grace
for tears’ embrace!

Today at, we’re asked for a poem in Skeltonic verse. I know, right? I never heard that before either. But I like it.