Go Ahead. Roll the Dice.


Go Ahead. Roll the Dice.

And so it unfolds ~

a tempting delicacy

on a glistening silver tray

sugar-laden phyllo 

luring the senses

beckoning one taste

of Eden’s secret

but be forewarned 

cheating is 

a nutrient-rich 


bolting shut 

home sweet home

and all its

familiar comforts 

Today’s poem was inspired by Metaphor Dice, with host Margaret Simon on ethicalela.com as part of the November Open Write. My rolled metaphor is in bold. 

Covid Booster Blues


Covid Booster Blues 

heat lightning against

a nighttime sky ~ random bolts

jagged energy 

Covid booster shot

flared the same effect on me-

muscle lightning storms 

sore left arm like a

petrified tangerine lump

hornet sting of pain 

ice pick scraping skull 

like a dentist drills a tooth

eye socket headache 

trembling Jello ring 

fetal position shivers

fire poker iceberg 

warm-socked feet, blankets

tucked tight holding this body

weathering this storm 

Ten Dollar Lunch


Ten Dollar Lunch 

that ten dollar bill 

you gave me to clasp with your 

windshield wiper if 

I had a message?

I’ve always kept it folded ~

hidden, close to me 

I’ve never told you 

how often I think of it

how it melts my heart 

because – just like you –

it’s so random and quirky 

and unexpected 

 – was it for dog food? –

I forget. But now all I 

see is one part of

a thirty dollar 

lunch that caused a steep nosedive 

bursting pinatas 

I should return it ~

lift your windshield wiper and

say it bought that plate 

Wait, what? Take 2


Wait, what? Take 2

SB 226 

to ban harmful books in schools

is really a thing? 

What defines harmful?

Our religious difference?

Political lines? 

Kids won’t want to write.

When we silence and censor,

we are admitting

that our own beliefs

are too weak to stand against

the ones we don’t keep.

A nation so rights-

oriented for guns and

vaccination choice 

wants to ban free thought 

and speech. Because books have the 

power to change us

in a way guns and

diseases don’t. Indeed, books

are healing vessels.

Wait, what?!


Wait, what?!

wait, what??? the earth is flat??

what about the round pictures from space?

<am I in some kind of vortex??

can this conversation be happening?>

why are sunrise times different, then? 

how would we have different time zones coast to coast on a flat earth?

wait, aliens and spaceships? 

why would secret footage be hidden?

we really aren’t allowed to fly over antarctica? how did my friend visit there? 

so the 4 different kinds of map projections are all out of whack and things are distorted? 

but isn’t that a visual representation challenge and not evidence of a physical planetary impossibility? 

wait, we didn’t land on the moon? 

so Glenn said he did it and later denied ever taking the one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind?

<what has he been smoking? 🌎>

A New Son


A New Son

“A young male schnoodle – 

a stray on the streets,” she told 

me, about this dog…

“…animal shelter 

placed him with his first rescue,

who called another…..

more breed-specific –

we took him as a foster…

he’s such a sweet boy! 

Come meet him!” she urged. 

Off we drove to fall in love,

welcome a new son.

“Here is all his food~

oh, and the ball is sacred.”

We brought him home, changed

his name from King to 

Ollie, bought a new collar,

tag, and dog sweater.

We introduced him

to his new tribe of brothers –

a family tree! 

He doesn’t like baths,

wants to play fetch all day long.

His eyebrows tell all.

He whine-talks his thoughts,

outright barks his firm demands.

He’s made us his own!  

The Pickup


The Pickup

They’d been boarding since

Friday – I opened the door,

there to pick them up

Waiting, I heard their 

squeals of anticipation –

they knew I had come! 

Mama’s three good boys

ready to be home again,

back in our own bed! 

Weekend Trip


My brother Ken here in Savannah watching the Georgia/Tennessee game in a hotel lobby with a room full of other happy Bulldog fans! 

Weekend Trip

Savannah, Georgia 

Quick weekend getaway trip

City Market stroll 

Bella Napoli 

Late Italian dinner 

Warm cookie dessert

Saturday morning

Writing in a comfy chair

Husband tucked in bed

Coffee scent wafting

No rush to be anywhere

What does the day hold?

“Watch my smoke,” he quipped

Pointing out that coffee steam

Is not the same thing

Facebook Funeral ~

Organist John Harper died

Church bells rang for him 

Brother and girlfriend 

Meeting us for a visit 

to watch the ballgame 

Ginger and I shopped –

bought fun Spartina bracelets

with matching whale tails 

Our chins kept dropping 

Sunglass-eyed people watching 

Who dresses these folks?

Street performer shows

A mini Faneuil Hall

Fun at every turn

Dog watching: more fun

City Market butt-sniffers

with card-holding rights 

Pecan praline secrets

Hidden, brown paper bag:

Secrets never told! 

Sandwiches, pizza

We toasted John Harper’s love

of savored moments

Planning our next trip –

for Ken’s fiftieth birthday 

Hoping Dad will come! 

And so the day went –

smoking heels in Savannah ~

smoke long outlasts steam! 

If Love is the Degree

If Love is the Degree

If love is the degree

of attention we pay

to something,

then I love praying my way to work

and writing first thing each day

and wrangling my dogs

and doing life with my husband

and traveling to experience places

and special family text chats

and camping in state parks

and planning what to do next

    in this big world of opportunity

If love is the degree

of attention we pay

to something,

then I love life!  

Goodbye, Spring Road


This is written on the day my brother Ken and I sell his home in Pike County, Georgia – filled with memories! 

Goodbye, Spring Road 

Bittersweet closing

So long, Spring Road Property 

We shan’t forget you! 

Shell of memories

Wonderful and sad

Three dogs buried here 

Tranquility farm

Eighteen acres of peaceful 

Respite from the world 

Fresh water springs where

Dogs walked, lapped refreshing drink

Splashed, played together 

A Weimarauzer 

Best dog ever, Feivel – was

Born on your front porch

Marriage and divorce 

New career and mother’s death 

Pasture overgrowth 

You offer more peace

A young family coming

To bring you new life 

Bittersweet closing

So long, Spring Road Property 

We shan’t forget you!