#VerseLove Day 24 with Larin Wade of Oklahoma – Seasons in Syllables

Larin of Oklahoma is our host for the 24th day of VerseLove2025. She inspires us to write Etheree poems about a season of our choice. You can read her full prompt here.

An Etheree poem consists of 10 lines with the number of syllables of each line order as the count.

I know everyone is tired of winter, but here in Georgia it only takes a couple of days of the heat to be ready for winter again, and I’m already there.

Winter Chill

wintertime snowdrifts on the windowpanes

thick quilts piled high on a soft king bed

schnoodles snoozing by the fireplace

six books stacked under the lamp

cabin socks snug on feet

plush fleece pajamas

a day off work ~

I’ll take my

chai tea

HOT!

#VerseLove Day 14 with Padma Venkatraman – Safe Spaces

Padma Venkatraman, our host for Day 14 of VerseLove 2025, is the author of The Bridge Home, Born Behind Bars, A Time to Dance, Island’s End and Climbing the Stairs. Her books have sold over ¼ million copies, received over 20 starred reviews, and won numerous awards: Walter Dean Myers Award, South Asia Book Award, Golden Kite, ALA Notable etc.

Today, she inspires us to read her poem entitled Safe Spaces and think about a place that feels like a safe harbor – and bring that space alive in a poem.  You can read her full prompt here.

My friend Margaret Simon, host of Poetry Friday, introduced me to a Shadorma form. I love the short forms, and this one contains six lines with this syllable pattern: 3-5-3-3-7-5. I’m trying this for my safe space poem today.

Safe Harbor Shadorma

safe harbors

places we can breathe

without fear

but tell me ~

do they exist anymore

in this mess of now?

#VerseLove Day 13 with Dr. Sarah J. Donovan of Oklahoma – Witnessing

Dr. Sarah J. Donovan is the founder of Ethical ELA, a community for teacher-writers, and a 2024 Fellow for the Genocide Education Project. A former middle school English teacher and author, she advocates for humanizing literacy practices, genocide education, and poetry as witness. Her work bridges pedagogy, justice, and storytelling.

Sarah inspires us to write poems in recognition of the past and in celebration of the Armenian people, their voices, and their enduring culture. You can read her full prompt here. I’m sharing a celebration pantoum.

Armenian Culture Pantoum

elders are respected

children are revered

Hellenistic temples

intricate khachkars

children are revered

strong family values

intricate khachkars

lavash and harissa

strong family values

Yarkhushta marriage dance

lavash and harissa

Artsakh carpets

Yarkhushta marriage dance

Hellenistic temples

Artsakh carpets

elders are respected

#VerseLove Day 2 with Leilya Pitre of Louisiana – When Spring Speaks in Tricubes

Leilya Pitre, our host for Day 2 of VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com, lives in Ponchatoula, LA, which is known as the Strawberry Capital of the World. She teaches at Southeastern Louisiana University and coordinates the English Education Program.

Leilya inspires us to write spring tricubes, and you can read her full prompt here. A tricube consists of three stanzas, each with three lines, and each line having three syllables—quick, rhythmic, and focused. It’s easy to remember as 3:3:3.

It’s a great day to think about spring!

Springtime Tricube

umbrellas

daffodils

rain showers

butterflies

Easter eggs

wildflowers

hummingbirds

sunshine’s warmth

trees tower

Come join us today – read, write, and share! And if you happen to be in middle Georgia today, come by 1828 Coffee Company in Zebulon, Georgia and meet The Poetry Fox. He’ll write a free poem for you between 3:00 and 6:00 and share about his life between 7:00 and 8:00. Hope to see you there!

#VerseLove Day 1 with Jennifer Jowett of Michigan: The Verse Collector

During the month of April, I’m participating in #VerseLove 2025 at http://www.ethicalela.com. Each day, a different host will lead us in a fresh prompt to inspire writing. These prompts can be used in classrooms or for personal writing development. It is my hope that you will visit the site and consider writing and sharing your own poems as we celebrate National Poetry Month together.

Today’s host is Jennifer Jowett of Michigan, who leads us in The Verse Collector prompt. You can read her full prompt inspiring us to write Cento poems here.

For my poem today, I looked no further than my old Childcraft Volume 1: Poems and Rhymes, the book that started my love of poetry as an elementary school child. I sat in a dark closet with a flashlight for hours on end, mesmerized by the reading. Here are some rearranged lines from that volume of poems that I used to create a new poem.

Stolen Childcrafted Secrets

I was going to the window

(to steal the secret of the sun)

too burning and too quick to hold

but something surely to behold

the swallows blow along the sky

the sparrows twitter as they fly

the wind is passing through

I was going to the window

(to steal the secret of the sun)

(hush, I stole them out of the moon!)

I have so much to tell!

Here are the poems from which I took the lines, in order:

Once I Saw a Little Bird, anonymous

This is My Rock – David McCord

The Falling Star – Sara Teasdale

Song of the Wake-Up-World – Countee Cullen

April – Sara Teasdale

Wind Capers – Nancy Byrd Turner

Who Has Seen the Wind? – Christina Rossetti

Repeat 1

Repeat 2

Overheard on a Salt Marsh – Harold Monro (the poem that put a spell on me for life)

March – Emily Dickinson

My original book had a pink spine and a whole different set of illustrations. This one features the same poems, but is from a different year of this set of books. One day I hope to recover the original book from an attic somewhere……..

March 16: 1:00-1:31 – Colorful Stories to Breathe By

For five days this month, three of my writing communities intersect on the same day. I’ve often had folks ask me how I manage three writing groups at once The secret is in the streamlining. For The Stafford Challenge, we write a poem a day for a year. For the Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com, we write a poem a day for five days a month and every day in April (you can read today’s prompt by Sarah Donovan here, inspiring writers to write about a place to breathe), and for The Slice of Life Challenge, we blog about a life moment. The magic of making it happen is to figure out which one works as a one-size-fits-all writing and to get started. Today, I’m using the Open Write prompt linked above.

A Place to Breathe……hmmm…….there are several of those, but what comes to mind lately is Ace Hardware.

After church, we piddle around on Sundays. Sometimes that means going to the hardware store so we can replenish our birdseed supply or pick up something we need to work on around the house. My husband likes looking at the lightbulbs, and I know I will always find him on that aisle. We live deep in the rural countryside of Georgia, so it doesn’t take much to entertain either one of us.

Me? I look around, but I discovered a secret thrill that takes me to the Magnolia Home paint chip section, and I have to be secretive about my mission so no one else discovers it. This hidden pleasure would surely draw all the crowds from their farms and tractors, but I only want to share it with those reading my blog so that my place to breathe remains mine alone in this town.

Colorful Story Paint Chip Haiku

did you know that there

are stories on the backs of

Magnolia chips?

these are the kinds of

deep-breathing exercises

perfect for writers

colorful stories

that’ll take your breath away

and make you want to

write your own colorful gems

about your own hues

just take a deep breath

close your eyes, go someplace loved

pick up your own pen

Take a look at these colorful, brilliant gems pictured below! Sure, it’s a marketing strategy, but I’d pay a little more for a gallon of this paint just to line the pockets of a writer who took the time to make all the right words work.

And then, after the Magnolia Paint chip section, I’m off to the garden section, where the herbs have just arrived in 4″ pots, where I picked up four patio tomatoes before they were entered in the system earlier this week – – -stood and waited for them to be buyable. I smell the rosemary and dill, and then…..smell the summer salmon on the grill.

Then a bag of birdseed and clear hummingbird mix for the hummers due to arrive this week according to all bird count maps. I’ll boil water and clean out the glass feeders, hang them by the front porch…..and sit with a glass of blood orange iced tea spiked with honey. And I’ll listen for the familiar hum and the steak of green glimmer. I will hear them before I ever see them.

And last I’m off to the lightbulbs, where he will be standing, holding a box or two, saying what he always says: you just can’t find incandescent bulbs anymore, and we need them for the heat in the well. And I’ll do what I always do: I’ll show him the heat bulbs like we used for the chickens, and he’ll act like it’s the first time I’ve ever suggested it. He’ll put back his box and pick up the heat bulbs, and then we’ll make our purchases and drive home after an exciting piddle through our local Ace Hardware Store.

March 9: 9:16-9:47 Clap if You Believe in Fairies!

Late-to-Rise Leprechaun: A Modified Limerick

a leprechaun sat ‘neath the shamrocks

with buckled hat, red beard, and striped socks

his faeries he queried

am I late? I’m quite w’erried

so ye be, chimed the three,

(one with book upon knee),

even fairyland can’t turn back time clocks

Top o’ the mornin’ to ya! I took a spur-o’-the-moment trip south to visit my family as my brother and sister in law and I try to help Dad tackle some tasks he can no longer do on his own. Chemotherapy has zapped all of his strength, and we (and others) continue to try to help where he will allow it – which is not nearly enough for any of us to feel satisfied, but that will take the luck o’ the Irish and a lot of prayer to change. He’s testy with us, seems skeptical, and wants to be left alone. He’s made it quite clear.

Before my brother and I visited him, I had a little extra time to check out the Ace Garden Center on St. Simons Island, Georgia, and I’d spied a little leprechaun in the robust fairy garden section that I’d planned to go back and get after visiting with Dad. I was there to look for spider plants, known for improving air quality by giving off oxygen in their transpiration process. But leave it to fairies to lure me down the aisle of wonder and intrigue. While I don’t have a dedicated fairy garden, my whole front porch is filled with fairies in their own plant container homes.

Imagine my delight when my sister in law, Jennifer, asked me to swing back by the house after visiting with Dad. She’d known just the medicine I’d needed – – a little fairy magic to cheer me up! She’d read my blog yesterday morning and beat me to the fairy section, choosing the perfect assortment of fairies – and the leprechaun – to sit on the edge of my shamrock plant as a gift – – making them so much more meaningful. Each time I look at the leprechaun, I smile. And what she didn’t know was that I would have picked the fairies dressed in green – – for an extra sprinkling of Irish fairy dust!

When I opened the gift, a black nose appeared out of nowhere – – JoJo, one of their black labs, sensed the magic and joined the fun, studying this leprechaun and his trio of fairy friends, as mesmerized as any dog has ever been. Her fixation on them – even trying at one point to take the leprechaun by the beard and run off with him – lightened the mood and made us all laugh.

Sources say that there are no female leprechauns, and that these little magical creatures are the unwanted children of the fairy family – – grouchy, closed off, and untrusting. With their stubborn, curmudgeonly, cranky attitudes, even leprechauns need someone to show them some love – trouble is, they have a hard time accepting it.

I have reasons for understanding the close relative of the leprechaun in folklore – the Clurichaun, drunk and surly beings who are known for clearing out entire wine cellars. And I must admit: I, myself, a mere human, along with my brother and sister in law, had broken into some wine over the weekend. But let’s be real – – the leprechauns drive them to it.

There comes a time in life when all children can do is clap if we believe in fairies, to envision Mary Martin as Peter Pan rallying us along, to hope the lights don’t fade too quickly.

Jo Jo checking out the leprechaun and fairy trio

Girls’ Getaway to 1811 Sunflower Farm Cottage in Rutledge, Georgia

We get away a few times a year to

read,

write,

talk,

s

sleep,

eat,

think,

work crossword puzzles,

adventure,

travel,

lounge,

sip wine, and

laugh late into the night.

This time, my sister-in-law and I rented an old farmhouse from 1811 in Rutledge, Georgia for two nights. I’m sharing the photos below. If you ever need a place near the University of Georgia but on the backside of nowhere, check out the 1811 Sunflower Farmhouse on Airbnb. We entertained the ghosts and wondered what their lives were like with 12 children living in the upstairs loft like Laura and Mary of Little House on the Prairie days.

From the time we saw the daffodils greeting us at the front stoop, we knew we’d found a friendly place to spend a couple of nights. The front porch confirmed it, with its lazy rocking chairs and climbing vine with a bird nest hidden in the foliage, looking a little bit like a Goldilocks house without the bears.

We opened the rustic door to the welcoming charm of the antiquated farmhouse and were swept back to 1811, imagining the satisfaction of the new homeowners of a bygone era, who have long since departed this life. The second set of owners had 12 children sleeping in the loft upstairs.

There were no building codes in 1811, and I understood at once after climbing and descending these steps why they threw all the youngsters up there. I went up long enough to get pictures and admire the ceilings and antiques up there, but after my fall on the steps at work a few years ago when I broke my ankle, I held on extra tight. 1811 held elements of danger everywhere. I could not stop thinking about fire and falls, and those were just the two obvious threats.

This is the bed where my sister in law slept, figuring that she was less likely to bang her head on the ceiling if she had to get up in the middle of the night and make her way down to the bathroom on the first floor.

This is the bed where I slept (I’m older than she is, weigh more than she does, and those steps were too steep for me – so I took her up on the offer to sleep downstairs). It was cozy and warm thanks to the electric heater (a look-alike fireplace) tucked into the fireplace at the foot of the bed. The farmhouse does have central heating, but the lack of insulation made the heaters extra-appreciated with the ever-present chill in the air! I’d predicted that with an old house like this, I would need my heated throw, and it sure came in handy!

The front and back doors had different latches to hold them shut at the top and the bottom, but we still had to use the stuffed pillow at the foot to keep the drafts out. Thank goodness for a sister in law who can figure out the tricky latches of yesteryear.

The nostalgia is real, and the tub is beautiful, but let me be clear and completely transparent: this tub ain’t for old people with hips and knees on the verge of collapse. I got to the point where I had to rinse off, but I showered quickly and exited this beauty of a tub. A long soak with salts and bubbles was out of the question. I would not want to climb in and out of an old tub often.

On the description, we noted the farmhouse had a kitchenette, but we were disappointed when we arrived that it was not to be found. Not until one of us went to the bathroom, only to discover that the kitchenette is tucked away – a tiny space all its own behind the water closet (you can see the edge of the toilet in the lower left of the photo). We were glad we finally found it, since we’d stopped to get groceries (yogurt, milk, cheese) so we wouldn’t have to leave if we didn’t want to go anywhere.

I worked a crossword together with my oldest daughter, who lives in Las Vegas. I’d send photos and she’d send answers, and I’d update what I had added. It’s nice having the time to enjoy the unexpected small surprise moments that you can capture on a getaway when you finally have a little time for enjoyment on your hands.

And we all need more of that!


Tea and Writing With Friends

Unexpected kindnesses can happen anytime, in the most needed ways. A couple of weeks ago, fellow slicer and friend Barb Edler of Iowa reached out to see if I wanted to be part of a small group she was putting together for The Stafford Challenge of daily writers in our second year of writing a poem a day for one full year. Each of us writes in three common writing groups and have met in person to make presentations at NCTE. We keep in touch, and I’ve often thought that my friends in the midwest and west coast and I share deeper connections than friends sitting next to me each day at work – – because we share the bond of kinship through writing. And I’m so thankful for this, because along with Denise Krebs and Glenda Funk, we found we were kindred spirits all seeming to need a lift right about now. Each of us shared a poem via Zoom that we’ve written recently and found a common thread – a numbness, disbelief, sadness about what is happening in our world with its shocking politics, heartbreaking plane crashes, and other woeful wreckage.

There are no words to capture the deep feeling of comfort that comes when you sit with friends, near or far, with a cup of tea and spend time sharing writing. I’m thanking each of you today, because that’s what slicing does, too. It brings us together to share what is foremost on our minds and hearts and keeps us in touch with what is going on in our lives across the globe. I love having my gardening friends, my RV bloggers, my travel buddies, my fellow grandmothers who share amazing ideas, fellow readers and birdwatchers and more. Thank you for being a writer in my life.

I’m sharing my tricube (three stanzas, three lines per stanza, three syllables per line) that I shared last night (below). I’m also making plans for March slicing – – I’ve sectioned out the waking hours of a typical day, and I plan to write a poem for every 31-minute time slot about something happening during that time, just to feel the real-lifeness of each moment, just because there can be deep comfort in things as simple as stirring honey into a cup of hot green tea and accepting that it’s okay not to want to read the tea leaves.

Photo by Leeloo The First on Pexels.com

I don’t know

I don’t know

what to say

words fail me

I don’t know

what to do

verbs fail me

I don’t know

what to think

thoughts fail me

The Silver Lining


during the coming reign, a friend says

she’ll turn off all news and stay in

and read more books than ever

and snuggle with her dogs

and I understand ~

I think she’s found

the silver

lining

here

**I’ll be reading with my book club (we met tonight at our local coffee shop on the town square to discuss The Beautiful and the Wild by Peggy Townsend) and sharing Goodreads reviews with my one of my daughters as we continue in the tradition of reading ever since she was little. Somewhere in all the buzz happening around us, there is a portal to another world in the pages of great books.