Tag Archives: dVerse Poets Pub

My Sweet Pea

I named her Bette, after Bette Davis, as a complement to Bogart. She was the best Christmas present I’ve ever received. Sometimes I called her Sweet Pea or Peeper. You’ve never met a more adorable, sweet, and perfect blond Cocker Spaniel puppy in all your life, I guarantee it.

Until the moment at Bo’s food bowl when a quick growl and nip left her eye hanging from the socket. The vet couldn’t save the eye. He suggested perhaps we should put her to sleep and get another puppy who wasn’t imperfect. Eighteen years later, when the time to put her to sleep finally came, I reminisced about her life and didn’t regret a single moment of having a one-eye dog. And it kind of made me chuckle to think she was named after an actress known for her “Bette Davis eyes.”

Seeing winter days
Bring us fun filled holidays
Pain oft’ in the mix

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It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub today and Victoria is asking us to consider the compelling world-view of Wabi-Sabi in our Haibuns. “Wabi-Sabi is the art of imperfection. It is the recognition that everything real is transient and imperfect. It recognizes the circle of life—that things die, break, disintegrate—and to find therein beauty.” I almost wrote about my current one-eyed dog Roman, but I’ve written about him quite a bit. So I decided to relate a true story from over 30 years ago wherein I learned that there is nothing wrong with a little imperfection.

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Fear, My Foe

My adversary
fueled by lies
half-truths
in disguise

You shan’t win
oh dreaded fear
if I hold truth
ever near

My devilish foe
all deceit
my Advocate
I’d have you meet

He is Truth
and the Way
You shan’t win
but perish this day

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I haven’t had much time for poetry lately because I’ve been working on my memoir and a book proposal to pitch the memoir to agents at a conference I’m attending in two weeks. But I was compelled today to make time for a Quadrille. It’s only 44 words, after all. And then to find that the word for today at dVerse Poets Pub‘s Quadrille Monday is fear. Can’t wait to see what others wrote on this topic that is dear to my heart.

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A Minute of My Story

Do you want to hear my story
Parts are gory
I think you don’t
Listen you won’t

I feel compelled to write it all
Each trip and fall
Won’t you please read
Hear my heart bleed

I write to bring others healing
Share this feeling
Anguish explained
Hope is regained

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Frank is tending the bar at dVerse Poets Pub today for Meeting the Bar. The form lesson for the day is the Minute Poem. It’s sixty syllables with added line length and rhyme scheme rules. The only rule I didn’t consciously follow is that each line is supposed to be in iambic meter. But then, I tend to break the meter rules with some regularity. Head over and check out some other Minute Poems.

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Flickering Gleam

In his eye I see a gleam
A bright shining beam
It appears as a flare
flash from here to there

Optic oscillation
Vision quivering
A glimmer of a ray
Sparkling scintillation

At first a subtle twinkle
Until it flickers and goes out

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It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub today, where we’re celebrating the 6th anniversary of the pub. Come on over and check out some other 44-word poems that include some form of the word flicker. I found this one quite fun. I looked up flicker in the online Thesaurus, and then used the words I found there.

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An Ode to Moss Landing

I wrote this poem in the guest book at Moss Landing, Ocean Shores, Washington. I took a picture of it to keep a copy and decided to share it today for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub.

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An Ode to Moss Landing, June 23–25, 2017

I wrote this poem for the royal “we”
Gail, Sharon, and Linda (me)
We enjoyed our stay at Moss Landing
Our schedule quite undemanding

The weekend began with long drives
I prepared dinner as the others arrived
Feasting occurred, shrimp, scallops, and more
Seven-layer bars that we adore

Lazing in the warm summer sun
Girls’ weekend is so much fun
The lovely weather such a treat
Time together can’t be beat

Cozy hot tub an added touch
We really don’t ask for much
Warm and soothing relaxation
Preamble to subsequent tasty libations

Hard cider, wine, and caramel liqueur
For morning coffee, strong we prefer
It’s not important what’s in the cup
We’re here to share stories and catch up

We’ve been friends for 33 years
We’ve laughed, loved, and shed many tears
Here’s to at least 33 more
Looking forward to adventures galore

Thanks for the memories added to the rest
In this cute cabin we were blessed
We don’t know what next year will bring
Friendship that lasts is our favorite thing

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Breaking the Rules

It’s not about mercy
if your destination is Alcatraz

It’s not about rehabilitation
if you’ve ended up here on the Rock

Don’t plan to escape
if you try the dig, dash, and dive
you won’t be eating shark dinner
in San Fran by nightfall

You’ll be shark dinner

Best to avoid breaking the rules

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For the Poetics Prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today, Mish wants us to write a poem inspired by a sign. I chose the sign we saw while waiting in line to go on a tour of Alcatraz in San Francisco a couple of years ago. I’m glad I never had to spend hard time in a cell like the one below. Not that I’ve always followed the rules, but I never broke the ones that would land you here.

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A Storm of Doubt

Doubt blows through
a dust-devil of uncertainty
clouding my judgment

It’s hard to recognize
the truth in the storm
To believe the evidence
right in front of my face

One does not become
a contest finalist
if one cannot write

Still self-doubt rages on

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I missed the last Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub. But the given word—storm—has been swirling in my mind ever since. So, for Open Link Night, I’m putting off working on my memoir, which is a finalist in the Oregon Christian Writers contest, and writing a stormy Quadrille instead.

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Sounds of the Sound

Sitting on the bank of the Sound
I listen for the wonderful sounds
of nature all around

White-crowned Sparrows pour out song
Harbor porpoises splash along
Bald eagles soar high and strong
Sea otters cavort shores where they belong

My awe of God abounds

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It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub and Victoria wants us to sound-off with our 44-word Quadrilles that include some form of the word sound. I used two.

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Traeger Season

Traeger season. My favorite time of year. An entire meal cooked out on the deck either directly on the grill or in aluminum packets makes for quick easy clean-up. The scent of mesquite pellets wafts about the deck. I peel russet potatoes and cube them, spray Pam on a huge piece of heavy-duty aluminum foil, spread out the cubes, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and seal ‘er up. To make sure they’re crispy on the bottom, they go on the grill first. My favorite part is sitting in the sun snapping the fresh green beans. I add a little lemon juice, salt, and summer savory to this packet and put it on the grill after the potatoes have cooked about twenty minutes. Then last, but certainly not least, the rib eyes, bright red and perfectly marbled with delicious fat. Mmmm. I sprinkle both sides with Traeger Prime Rib Rub, the perfect steak seasoning (in my opinion). Then on the grill they go. I set the timer on the stove so I don’t get sidetracked and over cook them. Time has a way of getting away from me when I’m basking in the sun in my deck chair waiting for dinner.

Savory summer
Season of delightful foods
Sweet tranquility

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For Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub today, Bjorn is hungry and looking for recipes. He wanted us to write about time in the kitchen, but my thoughts immediately went to cooking outside on my Traeger pellet stove. I’ve had a Traeger for years and could never go back to grilling over charcoal or gas. There is just something about that mesquite or hickory smoke that makes the food taste so delicious!

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Echoes of Peace

My fear rises
The verse echoes in my mind
Do not be anxious, pray, be thankful

Peace reigns in my heart

I see her fear
The verse echoes from my mouth
Do not be anxious, let’s pray, be thankful

Peace reigns in her heart

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Today is Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub where De is calling for our 44-word tomes that include some form of the word echo. Seemed appropriate to write something that had a bit of an echo to it.

So I went to read some other Quadrilles, and after 3 that seemed very, very long, it dawned on me that I’d written a 30-word poem instead of a 44-word poem. I guess 30 days of doing something does create a habit! I’ve fixed it now.

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