Poetry Without Words

Today I wanted to do one final post related to the weekend at Drift Creek Camp. I found the creeping, clinging, crawling, hanging moss and lichen to be so awesome that I tried for quite some time to write a poem about it. But it never came out right. So here are some of the […]


Spring Poem I need a poem for spring I check my chapbook—the one I wrote two years ago. I look under my bed; wander through the house, searching. And through each window the rising sun peeks. It’s out there—I know it—spring. Pungent daffodils such bright yellow you expect them to rub off on your hands […]

They’re Longfellows (Feet, Part 2)

Today is the sequel to the post titled But Her Feet Show It,  which featured the “answer poem”  to This Is Just to Say by Williams. This time, I answer The Village Blacksmith by Longfellow.  My poem is first, but if you need to refresh your memory, you can scroll to the end where I […]

But Her Feet Show It

A couple of summers ago, to gain a few more credit hours (teachers have to do that), I took a class for reading and writing poetry. We learned about using various writing prompts to lead to poetry writing. One of my favorites was starting with someone else’s poem and then “answering” it. So for a […]

Time For A Poem Break

How to Write a Poem   Sit in the grass and watch the words play.   Hopscotch and Leapfrog, jumping to and fro and over each other.   London Bridge is falling down a word now caught in place put in jail throw away the key.   Or perhaps it is Red Rover Red Rover […]

Gone Camping

And so we go.  Dropping the Son off at surf camp is an excellent excuse to camp somewhere along the coast.  Because of Aged Cat at home and the promise of hot weather (to cause destruction to potted garden plants), we won’t stay more than a night or two…easier now with the teardrop. Until our […]

Chasing Poems

Chasing Poems They’re everywhere, these poems in the scent of strawberries mingled with onions as we cruise down a country road. They’re written on the scraps of paper that litter my kitchen counter half-written recipes and nameless phone numbers. They’re in the trees and bushes of my neighbor’s yard just beyond sight calling out in […]