In the meantime, enjoy the responses I have made to other prompts.

Friday, August 18, 2017

To the Alt-Right

How hard the heart you've filled with hate. 
How troublesome your mental state. 
Your stance with mine, I can't equate. 
But I'd be glad to educate.



Monday, August 14, 2017

#charlottesville

Rhetorical Questions
What shallow minds consider birth
to be the measure of their worth?
If skin and looks are all you see, 
what narrow vision must there be?
How can we make this country great
when those within are filled with hate?


Sunday, August 13, 2017

Long Live the Rhyme!

Once upon a recent time
in the land of making rhyme
people milled the streets all day
and spoke in rhyme along the way.

The best time of the year for all
was when the Poet King would call
his people to the palace moat
to hear what local authors wrote.

Each writer stood upon the pass
and read out to the eager mass.
Each clever word was well received.
Each story plot would be believed.

Though no one format would prevail
t’would often be the children’s tale
adored the most by young and old,
ahat mad applause once it was told!

But oh the year when Darkness came!
It set each poet’s work aflame.
It cursed the tongues so not a word
of rhyming verse was ever heard!

The people willed their words to come
but all were struck completely dumb!
The Poet King called forth his men
to slay the force that stilled the pen.

They rode through valley, glen and plain,
the wicked source to ascertain.
No matter what the soldiers tried
it was no use! Their rhyme had died!

And just when Hope at last had stood,
about to leave the town for good
Akeem, a boy, declared to know
how they could make the evil go.

“We must profess our love of rhyme!
We use the language all the time,
but others think it’s silly rot.
We have to show them it is not!”

“Akeem has rhymed!” the people cheered.
“The Darkness too has disappeared!
Let’s listen to this clever boy
and spread the word of rhyming joy!”




Saturday, August 12, 2017

Looking through some old pieces I wrote - some nonfiction, some fiction - and came across this one.

Uncharted Territory

When years ago
my ship set sail
rough waters ruled the way.
With frequent squalls
and thunderstorms,
my skies were colored grey.

But that was when
my helm was steered
by someone else's hands,
who never had
the kinds of skills
such seamanship demands.

Yet through those rough
and rugged seas
one vision kept me moored -
the dream to see
my words in print's
what kept my feet on board.

Then over time
when I took hold
and got my bearings straight,
I charted then
a different course,
one I could navigate.

I sailed along
life's ebb and flow,
rode steady with the tide,
kept out of way
of troubled waves,
held fast to leeward side.

Now decades past,
the waters calm
that dream's still in my sight -
to have the
opportunity
to share the words I write.


Monday, August 7, 2017

https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2130414-On-the-Job-Training

On the Job Training

They made me get a license
before I drove a car.
To practice as a lawyer
I had to pass the bar.
To teach somebody’s children
demanded school and testing.
For me to be a parent
took only sperm and nesting.

Despite my lack of training,
when Casey Barr was born,
Nurse Nancy brought her to me
that cold December morn.
With all her toes and fingers
accounted for she said,
“Your daughter wants to meet you,"
then laid her in my bed.

“I don’t know what I’m doing!”
is what I wished to say,
but after some instructions
she sent us on our way.

The real chance I would drop her
was then my biggest fear
and second was a failure
to read the cries I’d hear.
I longed for a decoder
to tell which cry meant what,
so I could be more certain
instead of trust my gut.

But somehow we got through it,
albeit sleep deprived.
We added two more daughters;
all three of them survived.
I know at times I blundered; 
my husband did as well.
No doubt the repercussions
a skillful shrink could tell.

And yet, without the training,
I think we did alright.
With college years behind them,
their futures all look bright:
a vet, a first lieutenant,
and film producer too.
But don't believe it's over;
a parent's never through.




Inspired by a Writer's Cramp prompt asking us to write about learning a new skill.