
I feel contained, bound to stay home in
this winter storm with ice and snow
to wrap up in flannel and
fleece, to read by the fire
in the white silence
of frozen world ~
snowbound brings
freedom,
peace

Patchwork Prose and Verse

I feel contained, bound to stay home in
this winter storm with ice and snow
to wrap up in flannel and
fleece, to read by the fire
in the white silence
of frozen world ~
snowbound brings
freedom,
peace

Sometimes I like to take a stack of books and search for lines that speak to me to create found poems in random order to see if they make sense – kind of like a scavenger hunt. I used the following books and found 4 ten-syllable lines broken into five syllables with line breaks, in this order:
The Lost Spells by Robert McFarlane and Jackie Morris
The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin
James by Percival Everett
North Woods by Daniel Mason
Ghost Spells
the world is sudden
with wonder again
we can go over
the new winter list
I’m sorry to have
barged into your home~
how affectionate
I feel for my ghosts

Our three schnoodles have their morning rituals down. They are as predictable and relentless as the wrens building nests in our garage. Same games, same antics every morning and afternoon- and we play along because things were not always this way. It took effort and patience to build the trust and happiness from the trauma of life before rescue, and we are the ones these boys depend on to keep them from starving and being abandoned again. We are not their first rodeo. But we are their first and last loving family – even if we have to convince them that they are all a little bit badass as we anthropomorphize their every move and talk for them in their own special voices. Finally, they are seen and heard. And loved.
one is viciously tempting dad’s play
(tug of war with his posh blanket)
two is cussing shameful threats
at the deer just outside
three nose-nudges ball
to Dad to throw
down the hall ~
{morning
games}!

Jessica of Chicago is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com, inspiring us to write poems to the theme of “This is the Year.” She writes, “January is a time for self-reflection, goal-setting, and aspirational thinking.” You can read her full prompt and poems of others here. She encourages us to write poems about the changes we wish to see in 2025, structuring it this way:
Enough!
this is the year that
my one little word, enough,
takes on new meaning
helps guide decisions
about life, work, and spending
I don’t want too much
I already own enough
books, shoes, clothes electronics,
and other gadgets
it’s time to pare down
time to use the library
to tone down the noise
Erica writes, “Today’s poem was inspired by the poem “Nest” by Jeffrey Harrison. I loved the surprise discovery revealed in the poem and how the poet marvels over this small miracle that they discovered while putting up their Christmas tree. It made me want to explore my own little discoveries and what they revealed about myself or the world around me.”
You can read Erica’s full prompt and poem here, but here is her process if you’d like to use it to write a poem of your own today:
Stanza 1 – The initial discovery. I followed the structure of Harrison’s poem using the words “It wasn’t until…that ___ discovered…”
Stanza 2 – The feeling or reaction to that discovery. I asked myself the question “What ABOUT this discovery sticks with me?”
Stanza 3 – Start with the phrase “And now…”, how are your feelings/reflection on this discovery evolving?
Stanza 4 – Start with the phrase “And yet…”, what contrast or contradiction comes to play as you continue to reflect on your discovery?
Stanza 5 – Wrap up your poem with a final take away moment.

Scrap Paper Love Note
it wasn’t until
I came to make my coffee
that I found his note ~ ~ ~
amazing, cherished
sentiment on a receipt ~ ~ ~
scrap-paper surprise
and now my heart warms
like steam from my Snoopy mug ~ ~ ~
love wafting outward
and yet he is gone
driving to Alabama
me, spooning honey ~ ~
and adding creamer~ ~
swirling joy, blending heartbeats
across the state line
Today at http://www.ethicalela.com, our host is Glenda Funk of Idaho, who inspires us to write poems about embarrassing times in our lives. You can read her full prompt and the poems of others here. (I predict this will be a great day to step in for a visit).
50 Shades of Red
back in the day
before adhesive strips
held pads in place
there were other ways ~
namely, the Beltx Santy Panty
(now in the National Museum of American History)
Luxury Spandex
cool, comfortable
with Sta-Put Crotch
to eliminate all loops and clasps
unconditionally guaranteed
for those
monthly “off days”
let me tell you something
lean in and listen up ~
my first “off day” still haunts me
gives me shivers
it happened in the St. Simons Drugstore
in the village
in 1977 when I was 11, shortly
after reading Are You There, God?
It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
this was not the way it was
supposed to go down
my mother took me in
to find products
the very day I crossed the
threshold into womanhood
she sought a treasure
promising
* nary a telltale budge
* never a slip
* not a whisper of odor
as she quietly perused the shelves
in the crowded store
I’d ducked to the makeup aisle
many shades of red on the shelves
all around me ~ lipstick, blush, nail polish ~
and I, too, was now red all over
above and below my waist
the most embarrassing day of my life
and Griffin from my class
was there with his mother, too,
waiting on his medicine
when to my absolute horror
my mother caught sight of
the pharmacist
busy at work
while Griffin and his mother
and the rest of the crowd
stood watching, waiting
their names to be called
my own mother boldly stepped forward
inquiring for all to hear
making no secret of any of this
Do you have any of those
Santy Panty things?
My mother.
My mother.
My mother.
All eyes moved from
the pharmacist
to her
to me.
I cringed.
I saw Griffin giggle.
I bled out most of my soul
that day in the drugstore
as my mother handed me
a bag with three boxes of
Santy Panty things,
explaining for all to hear
that they were to be washed
by hand in the sink
as Griffin turned
red with full laughter
as we exited the store
Gayle Sands of Maryland is our host for Day 2 of the January Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. You can read her prompt and poem here. Today, we are writing KonMari poems to honor the legendary clutter-clean out queen Marie Kondo. I’m bringing my One Little Word into the first line of my poem today – enough.
“To truly cherish the things that are important to you,
you must first discard those that have outlived their purpose.”
Marie Kondo
Keepsakes Unkept 2
we’ll keep just enough :
*the dogs
*each other
(in that order)
*our jobs
*our dream of downsizing
for camper travel
*our sparse simplicity
that might seem boring
to anyone else
we’ll jettison some cargo:
* “gifts” bestowed, heavily-storied
relics with sentiments not ours

Shaun Ingalls of Nevada is our host for Day 1 of the January Open Write at Ethicalela.com. You can read his post here. His poem and prompt has my mind spinning with all the possibilities for classroom engagement. Shaun encourages us to write poems using slang words and phrasing from an urban dictionary.
One thing I could do all day is watch Greg Edwards deliver his Thug Notes – – I crack up every single time and love this approach to explaining classics. Even though I never could have shown them in class for fear of parent complaints about language and innuendo, I think Dr. Sparky Sweets (a play on Spark Notes) would have drawn my students into a deeper love of classical literature. I have to say: I got an education as I explored the Gen Z dictionary on Wikipedia. We certainly have a different culture of language from back in the day.
Another thing I could do all day is watch Sam Fricker dive. Lately, I have been following his style on the board and his prankish humor in real life. He has amassed quite a social media following. I’ve always enjoyed watching divers, and I think it stems from my fascination with the high dive at The Beach Club on Sea Island, Georgia. I swam there almost daily in the summers as a child, and there is still something about that high dive that lures me straight into its fear just like those people in horror movies that think they have to go outside alone when they hear a noise in the dark. I jumped off of it several times, but never got my courage up to dive headfirst from it. At that age, it looked like I was looking down from the tip top of the universe. And that’s one of the many reasons I love watching Sam smash all my fears of heights as he boldly twists and flips his way into the pool.
When Sam Fricker Dives
the GOAT looksmaxxes
then plunges without a splash!
who is this diva???