May 18, 2013 Sunday Whirl #109

Prompt: nebulous, bleak, cut, vision, timing, touch, hover
crush, opaque, blazing, torch, slab, breath

The Tide Changes

I lie on my slab

My breath shallow

Like the water

At low tide

Pink sand between

My fingers

I rise

The world nebulous

Nothing clear

Out of focus

All is bleak

Dark clouds hover above

Someone says, “cut!”

Like the filming of a movie

My vision clears

No longer opaque

The timing will be measured

By the sundial in the yard

My fingers touch the cold metal

The sun appears

A blazing torch

Burns away melancholy

Crushes dark mood

The tide is coming in

Waves crash on shore

Children scream with delight


A High School Crush

The sky an opaque

Chrystal shimmering

Casting sunlight

Shadows hovering

Blue on sand

The constant breeze

Now breathless

Quiet and still

Stone slabs in the court

Hot to the touch

Under the blazing desert sun

Timing is everything

You a bleak horseman

Dressed in black

A vision lit by torch

From an old notebook

Poems of love

A nebulous affair

Also hot to the touch

A woman

With a high school crush

May 11, 2013 Sunday Wordle #108 and Real Toads

Prompt: mouth, vow, drone, space, chants, sun,

binding, crook, circling, broken, cave, fist


(Image from the internet)

First Woman

In the speed of light

Words spill from her mouth

Chants form and

Are heard as she drones

Circling around her

Caught in the crooks of trees

Where they hang

Limp and lifeless

Old time broken

Emerge from the cave

Vows uttered below her breath

The rising sun illuminates

Bindings drawn tight

Hands clenched into fists


She claims full rights

As a human


Prompt: At Real Toads__ Violet.


Today the 12th of May

I have chosen blue

Pure blue

Ultramarine blue


With small additions of purple

I shall see

The blue turn to blue violet

To violet

Mystery in its’ color

A tale of morning sky


And sorrow


Cowboys ride below

Sailors sail upon

Singing shanty songs

Little girls with ribbons

In their hair

Flying behnd

Aviators fly above

Violet all around


Picking blackberries

With my Grandmother

Violet stains on my dress

And finger tips

Dripping from my lips

Tempting snakes

Memories abound





May 5, 2013 Sunday Whirl #107 and deVerse


Thunderous Pulsing
Time marches on
Spit in the wind
Send messages to the ancestors
Count the number of days
Which slip from my purse
You thought it was
Safe in a thousand ways
Steam raises from the
The soup in the red dish
In front of you
Dressing to reveal your charm
Pulsing red and blue
Time marches on



deVerse:  Prompt Fairytales, Myths and Folktales




Color Vocabulary Based on Children’s Stories

An artist could create a visual vocabulary
Of color based on folktales, myths, and fairytales
Take the color from the stories
And when that color is used
The viewer would know
The artist is talking
About lessons learned
For example:
White from Snow White
Red and White stripes from the Cat in the Hat
Green from Peter Pan
Black from Dracula
Silver from the wolf and pink from the Three Little Pigs
Golden from Rapunzel
Sienna from Billy Goat Gruff
Grey and black from Briar Rabbit and the Tar Baby
The glass slippers of Cinderella
Not a color, but any color used transparently
Rusty red from Chicken Little
Purple of the plum of Tom Thumb
Or the artist could make his own designations
Blue and Green for the woodsman’s tunic
Royal colors of purple and red for Kings, Queens and Princes
Expand the meaning and the charm
Tie it all to children’s stories


Note:  Image of sketchbook to show how an artist might create this vocabulary.

April 27, 2013 Sunday Whirl

Prompt: either, harrowing, marrow, grubs, thin, oath,
saw, guess, rare, march, borrow, transparent

My oath thin upon the wind
Like coyote’s howl
Just outside my window

I feel the sound harrowing
To the marrow of my bone
I can borrow no more time
Snug in my bed

I long to find the grubs
In the garden of my work
Spent in the court of

A rare and precious moment
All is transparent
The march to completion

Either I work now
Translate observation
Touch it with imagination
Or I guess…

Like the Coyote who sleeps late
This day will be lost forever


Note:  I have been reading May Sarton, Journal at Seventy.  During an interview, she was asked, “How is seventy different from sixty-five?   I don’t see much difference, except that time accelerates.  The days go past with frightful rapidity, and so do the years.  It is plain that I am not ready for old age!  But then time does not stand still in old age I fear.  On the contrary, from all reports it simply flies away, and that is what I am beginning to notice.”

April 14, 2013 Sunday Whirl

Saturate, control, bold, unwind, sword, often, skeptical, slight, might, sign, ninth,threshold

On the threshold of my seventyth year

I unwind the story of my life

Skeptical that I have lived so long

Without control of the past

Only my response

It is perhaps the ninth time

I have tried to recall it al

Grief has sometimes saturated my years

Yet, without armor or sword

Boldly continued

With a sigh

Try as I might

The details are slight

Memory dims

I vow to try again another day

April 6, 2013 Sunday Whirl/ and NAPOWRITEMO Writers Digest

merge, project, activate, technology, unity, mantra,

smudge, sing, delicious, inquisitive, urge, stellar


(Image from the Internet)

Quiet….The Mouse is Sleeping

Computer won’t work

Mouse is sleeping

Stay calm

Projects can wait

Activate all that you know

Technology over my head

 Merge the frustration

Unity of one with the other

Mantra said over and over

“The Buddha is calm, I am calm”

Take a deep breath

Sing a delicious song

Back to the computer store

For the third time

Inquisitive about

Why did it work yesterday

Won’t work today

Urge to kill

Then it decides to work

All is stellar again

Just a small smudge

On a perfectly wonderful

Spring day

Have learned nothing

But mouses need a little

Nap too

Writer’s Digest  Pad Challenge  NAPOWRITEMO

#6  For today’s prompt, write a post poem. Post could be short for post office–or traditional mail. Post could be a wood or metal post. Or post could mean relate to words like postpone, post-punk, or whatever.



The job is before you

It does not matter

What you did yesterday

It is your past

What have you done today

There are always mountains to climb

Things to clean

Love to give

Letters to post

Much to accomplish

March 30, 2013 Sunday Whirl #102 Saturday Bird Songs


Saturday Bird Songs
Silently Lost behind the
Western most peak
On the horizon
Early Morning moon
All is still
Except for
A cacophony of bird song

A woman has written
Words like petals
Colorful and sweet
The monitor glows
Her staff the Keyboard

Years ago her home
Was a pit house
Foundation of stone
Her touchstone
A warrior/hunter
Man she loved

Now many generations later
She calls to her former self
Her own Grandmother
Of long ago
Locks her eyes upon
The horizon
Watches for a dust devil
To rise the powdered dust
From the desert floor

After awhile
Her eyes return
To the monitor
Her fingers to the keys
Sprinkle more petals
On the page
To be sung in
Saturday morning key

March 24, 2013 Sunday Whirl #101 The Mystic


Sandra Kovacs was my friend and I will miss her.

The Mystic
We talked last night
And remembered
As the wind howled
The temperature dropped
A cold yesterday
There was no need to hurry

A woman spinning
Her warn
Casting shadows in
The bright sunlight
As the wind howled

You are of the trees
With your country mind
Disguised as a simple man
There will be an opportunity
To become a hero
Your destiny
Will be your choice
The temperature dropped

We all have wounds
Some of our own making
Some so deep
When we reach bottom
It is only the clear water
Of collected tears
Words forgotten
The idea remains
A cold yesterday

Across time she is remembered
Emotions stirred
Like sands in the hourglass
Slipping to fill the heart
A container like a glass jar
On a shelf
All is revealed
There was no need to hurry


March 17, 2013 Sunday Whirl #100

The Callin’
It happened out back
Behind the summer kitchen
A cold wind from the North
Screamed like a Banshie
I heard my name
Some say
It was a “callin'”

To hear the call
Understand the meaning
The goal is to master the task

Faint words blow across the mesa
An invitation to create
To grow
To stretch
To share

The journey will be lonely
If you catch that train
Destination unknown
You will visit places
Walk streets
Beyond dreams

The seasons change
Mark time
The river crests
The passing years
Cast on the wind
You may keep nothing
For nothing is promised
You will march to your death
Head held high
And you will die

In the end
When asked
You will say
It was all worth it

Note: Congratulations and happy one hundred wordles!


March 9, 2013 Sunday Whirl #99


Fragments III #131  30″x30″  gouache on watercolor paper



The Widow Sits by the Window
Paint, painted, painting
A world of color
A carefree spree
Insider, outsider
Who is to say
Who uses the paint

The widow sits by the window
Remembers intimate moment
Written on the heart
Held in the body
Personal landscape
A Vermeer painting

Her life a fearsome
Still life
Since he went away
The studio her reserve
The part that is her own
To use the paint
As she chooses

Prompt: paint, use, sprees, outsider, away, fearsome,
part, reserves, body, intimate, writt