Tag: ethicalela.com

Posted on

Open Write Day 2 of 3 November 2025: Traditions Tanka with Mo Daley of Illinois

Mo Daley is our host for today’s Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. She inspires us to write tanka poems to share our traditions. This may be one you’d like to try today, so I’m including her directions below.

Mo writes, “This time of year always gets me thinking about traditions. There are many my family and I look forward to celebrating with each other. I really love hearing about other peoples’ traditions, too. Hayrides, Oktoberfest, pumpkin patches, bonfires, corn mazes, pumpkin carving, and cooking might be some of the traditions that come to mind when you think of fall. Today’s poem is a way for you to flex your poetic muscles while letting all of us learn a little bit more about you and the traditions you observe.” 

Mo inspires us with these words: “Write a tanka or series of tankas telling us all about a favorite, or maybe least favorite, fall tradition. A tanka is a traditional Japanese poetic form of 31 syllables over 5 lines. The syllable count is 5/7/5/7/7. Usually there is a turn in the third line. Consider focusing on sensory images to help us feel like we are right there with you. “

You can read Mo’s poem at the Open Write today by clicking here. In my poem below, I feel the need to clarify the spelling of the yellow bear. My first grandson could not say yellow, so when my son suggested they go on a bear hunt on our farm in rural Georgia to find the highly-elusive-never-before-seen yellow bear, my grandson couldn’t stop talking about the lellow bear, and none of us have called it anything different ever since. I still have the picture of them setting out to find it, and it warms my heart to think that one simple moment, one slight of the tongue, became a family tradition that remains to this day.

Traditions Tanka

first, the pumpkin bread

that started when they were kids

I tie the apron

sift the flour, mix in the eggs

add sugar, spices, pumpkin

dominoes thunder

onto great granny’s table

the one I redid

while the bread bakes, we play games

we pair with grandkids

we all walk the farm

looking for the “lellow bear”

every eye stays peeled

lellow bear is elusive

someday, we might catch a glimpse

the coffee pot stays

full of fresh brew to help us

keep up with these kids

Scrabble (turntable version)

for adults, post-kids’-bedtime

togetherness fills my soul

I take a deep breath

they were born last week

now here they are, with their own

tears of gratitude well up

Several years ago ~ from the time of his first bear hunt to early teens
The walk that started it all: the first hunt for the elusive lellow bear
Today, the hunts continue
Posted on

Open Write Day 1 of 3 November 2025 with Mo Daley of Illinois: Clean Up and Clean Out

Our host today for the first day of the Monthly Open Write for December is Monday Daley of Illinois, who inspires us to write cleaning poems since it is National Clean Up Day. You can read her full post here, along with her mentor poem and the response poems of the writers who participate.

Earlier this year, those in the school district office where I work were saddened to learn that our favorite custodian had taken a job in a neighboring county because of lower wages in our own. We understood. But we grieved that daily absence of one who was more than a custodian to us. She was a friend who shared about her children and the concerns of her country. She was family. She’d given us her number in case we ever wanted to call to have our own personal homes cleaned, which she offers as a service on weekends.

The older I get, the more difficult cleaning is, and if I’ve learned one thing from my father’s aging process, it’s this: stay on top of the cleaning. As I near 60 years of age, I hear my own words of advice to him echoing through the veil of time: “Hire someone. Don’t try to do all this by yourself. There are professionals out there who know what to do and how to do it better than you can.”

So two weeks ago, I called my friend Dianelys to come and meet with me about cleaning. She brought her mother along, the one who loves plants but doesn’t speak any English. I saw her mother giving approving nods to the plants as we walked through the house so I could show her what I would like to have done. I’ve been establishing some Night Blooming Cereus stalks, so I plan to leave one out today with a note for her and her sister in law to take to her mother, on this first day that Dianelys will clean our house with her cleaning partner.

And so today, on this National Day of Cleaning, it seems fitting to write my 6,7 poem to celebrate Dianelys and cleaning.

Taking My Own Advice

I’m taking my own advice,

Dad, doing what I thought you

should have done years ago

you’d be proud of me today

phoning a friend to help

where my abilities now

fall short ~ bending, vacuuming,

scrubbing, shining, polishing ~

I look to the Heavens

offer a gratitude smile

as always, you taught me well

one way or another

this cleaning hits the targets

that need it most ~ for me and

my friend, Dianelys

she’ll be here in two hours

with her mop bucket and rags

so now the mad dash to clean

before the real cleaner comes

Posted on

Open Write Day 1 of 3 October 2025 – Fran Haley

Our host today for the first day of the October Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Fran Haley of North Carolina. She and I are teaming up together this month to bring the writing prompts for the three days of this month’s challenge. Fran and I both live in small towns with the same name – she in North Carolina, and I in Georgia. Here’s a little more about Fran Haley:

Fran and Jesse

Fran Haley is a K–12 literacy educator who coordinates elementary programs centered on a love of books and the joy of reading aloud. She helps young writers find their voices on the page in creative ways. A pastor’s wife, mom, and Franna of two spirited granddaughters, she savors the quiet rhythms of rural life near Raleigh, NC. The pre-dawn hours are Fran’s sacred writing time; you can find her there in the stillness, seated at the kitchen table with a sleeping puppy (a miniature longhaired dachshund named Jesse) in her lap. She authors the blog Lit Bits and Pieces: Snippets of Learning and Life. 

Fran inspires us to write by reminding us of the significance of today. She says, “Today is the third Saturday in October, which happens to be National Sweetest Day, according to the National Day Calendar. Originally “Candy Day,” the recognition began in 1916 with American confectioners encouraging high standards in candy-making and the patronage of candy shops and bakeries. The observance was suspended due to sugar rationing in World War I. “Candy Day” eventually resumed; historians note that it was also meant to be altruistic, a time for buying sweets and distributing to those who could not afford them. The holiday later evolved into “Sweetest Day” and the giving of notes, cards, and gestures of love. “

She wonders what “sweet things” we can consider and shares her process here:

She adapted the list of suggestions on National Day Calendar for our purpose today:

  • Write a poem about your favorite candy or dessert
  • Write a metaphorical “sweet” recipe
  • Write a poetic note of love to a neighbor, co-worker, friend, or family member
  • Write a poem based on song lyrics about candy (think “Big Rock Candy Mountain”), or any “sweet” song you love
  • Write a sweet memory or gesture made toward you

Fran chose the last option, in narrative free verse.

Fran’s Poem

The Gift

Late in the evening 

my husband aims the remote,
presses a button,
banishes flickering ghosts.

All is still and silent in the lamplight. 

He turns to me:

 “You know I love you, don’t you?” 

That timbre—

that deep, low note in his voice

—my brain translates to

Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!
Prepare for impact!
Even as I answer, Yesss, I am guessing:
The doctors have called. It’s his heart again.
Or worse. What now. What now.
We’ve spent the last decade—
a quarter of our marriage—
skidding to sudden stops,
pressing the pause button,
resuming in altered states,

patched and scarred.

I can’t even summon a prayer.
I brace for the crash.
The shattering.
But he’s just scrolling on his phone.
He holds it out:
“What do you think of this?”
A photo of a red-gold puppy
lying on a blanket.
I can’t process.
I’ve missed a cue
—how early does dementia begin?
“Precious,” I say, confused.
My husband looks at me for a long moment,
then: “He’s ours.
I put down a deposit
three days ago.”
What am I hearing?

Is this real?
A dream?
My heart had given up hoping
for a dog, in light of his battles…

yet this man, so valiant
in suffering,

begins to sob

with the magnitude
of his own sacrifice,

offering me
new life.


And she passes the pen to us with the challenge to write our own Sweetest Day poems. Here is mine:

Our youngest grandson, Silas, the sweetest 10-month-old

Pajama Adventure to Krispy Kreme

it was just after 7 a.m.

I was still in pajamas

writing at the kitchen table

on family vacation

when my son asked

you want to take a ride?

I reminded him: I’m still in pajamas

no worries, he assured ~ come on!

the hot light came on as he pulled

into the parking lot

and a couple dozen later

we were on our way back

with hats and hot glazed doughnuts,

creme filled and sugar-laden,

to share with the others

just as the good Lord

intended

My son, Marshall, who knows how to share the best breakfast, with son River

Posted on

Open Write Day 1 of 3 September 2025 with Kelsey Bigelow

Today’s host of the first day of September’s Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Kelsey Bigelow, who works as a mental health poet and renowned author of books, slam poetry events, and writing workshops in Iowa. You can read all about Kelsey and visit today’s prompt and poems here, as she inspires us to think about what lives on the “good side of memories.” Today’s writing is rooted in stream of consciousness writing that can live on in that form or be the start of one that takes root for another.

It’s All in the Kneading and Knowing

the happiest thing

I’ve ever tasted was that moment

when in my grief

soul-gutting tears in a

big-enough-for-all

walls of a VRBO

reverberating sniffles

and crumpled Kleenex

and happy laughs of

oblivious grandchildren playing

with their newest cousin

trying to teach him

to walk at six months

and believing he could

the strains of Amazing Grace

sung to a guitar

by the rest of us trying

to sing with the best of us

believing we could

as we all sat piled high

on the curved couch

pajama-clad, remembering

*******. ********

then one broke the silence

asking for a happier moment

in the autumn – another together

time when smiles returned

then another added

yeah, when

any of us can

make a word from tiles in

turntable Scrabble

and another added

yeah, and only if Mom

brings the pumpkin bread

and right then

in those delicate moments

I knew three things:

that I had taken the reins

as the newest family elder and

that tradition of togetherness

lives on in food tried first

as a flopped recipe

when they’re toddlers, then tested

again and again to perfection

by the time they’re teenagers

and can’t think of gatherings

without it and

that families too

are like that ~

learning to walk

learning to sing

learning to bake

learning to live on

believing

through all the tears and laughter

that together

we can

Posted on

No, Thank You

This month, I’m writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. Goldberg asks us to begin by writing, “No, Thank You…” and to keep going. And each time we get stuck, to return to those words and keep going. Today, I share a Nonet – a poem consisting of nine lines with that number of syllables on each line in ascending or descending order.

No, Thank You Nonet

no thank you to the constant going

I’m ready to have a weekend

when I can just stay at home

and bask in no deadlines

rest the day away

watch a movie

read a book

walk the

dogs

I’m honored to share a weekly feature with Ethicalela.com’s readers this week as students across the nation return to school. Here is a first-day activity that aims to build connections and strengthen relationships so that learning can thrive in the classroom. Cheers to all teachers who know the fine art of getting their arms around their students and teaching humans – not standards, not curriculum. You’re the real difference-makers in a world that often tries to convince us otherwise. This morning, I raise my mug of coffee to you as you go out into the most fertile fields of all to plant seeds and make change. You, my friend, are a change maker.

Posted on

Open Write Day 2 of 3 July 2025

Today for the second day of the July Open Write, Jennifer Jowett of Michigan and Deborah Wiles of Georgia are our hosts. They inspire us to write I Once Knew poems, using a process they describe at this link. Hop over and read some of the poems that will be eclectic and unexpected. This is one such random poem process that is, what I believe, makes poetry shine and sparkle.

To Be Continued

I once knew Miss Sue

who taught me

how to swim in

her backyard pool

now filled in

with earth and flowers

I once stayed at

The Blue Swallow Motel

with the Swiss dot bedspread

and Moon Pies on the pillows

and t-shirts advertising

refrigerated air conditioning

as I drove Route 66

I swam in the Illinois

cornfield sunset

I swooned over the

coconut cream pie

at the Midpoint Cafe

in Adrian, Texas

I sweltered in the

Palo Duro Canyon

Texas heat

where even the road runners

know to sit in the shade

of the picnic tables

I sweethearted a

photo finish kiss

with my husband at

Cadillac Ranch

I swapped my beaded

quartz bracelet for one

made of turquoise and

mother of pearl

in Albuquerque

at the store with

the red war paint door

because it reminded me of

my mother

I swore to return to

finish the route

to be continued…..

Posted on

July Open Write Day 1 of 3 with Jennifer Jowett

Today’s host for the first day of the July Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Jennifer Jowett of Michigan. You can read her full prompt here, inspiring writers to compose a poem of Memory Threads – – a way to breathe in healing through fabric of story and connection.

This month, I’ve been capturing Dad’s final words and stories in audio clips and poems as he inched closer and closer to Heaven, one foot in this world and one in the next. It’s as if Jennifer’s prompt was written just for me. That’s the thing about poetry ~ it meets you exactly where you are and invites you into the vast realm of each moment, scattering the light and blanketing the dark and swimming fully immersed in the shadows. For me, there is no greater healing than what is found in prayer and verse. I’m convinced it’s why the Bible itself – the Holy Scripture – is written in verse. Because it casts light on all truth and heals souls right where they are, and it invites personal response.

I hope you will visit the link above today and read some of the poems and, perhaps, write your own. Even if you don’t share it with anyone, my wish for you is the peace of writing and the healing of expression. Forget perfection. Forget whether it’s good or not, whether it’s right or wrong. There are no rules.

Just dive in.

Still Life with Dying Father

my brother and I

sat by our father

in his final hours

each labored breath

casting ethereal ripples

on the gossamer veil

hanging sheer and thin

between man and Maker

each weakening whisper

each story

each prayer

each memory

becoming weightless

dancing gracefully

toward the shimmering glow

Posted on

May Open Write – Day 3 of 3 with Sarah J. Donovan for Demi Sonnets

Today’s host at http://www.ethicalela.com for our final day of the May Open Write is Sarah J. Donovan, who inspires us to write Demi-Sonnets about something we almost missed. You can read her full prompt here. Sarah says, of Demi-Sonnets:

  • 7 lines.
  • It’s formal without being, you know, strictly formal.
  • They are encouraged to end with a full or a slant rhyme. (An Emily Dickinson approved form.) Instead of a perfect rhyme where the ending sounds match exactly (like cat and hat), slant rhymes have slight variations in sound like hope and cup, bridge and grudge.
  • Erin describes them as “aphoristic” and something of an “elongated fortune cookie” 
  • There’s no set syllable count.

Call Interference

front porch phone call late at night

unfurling starburst: opening show

caught my eye in the moon’s spotlight

petal by petal, revealing its brilliance

conversation ~ a bloom interference

most never see this nocturnal sight:

Queen of the Night crowning waterlily-bright!

Posted on

#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……..
Posted on

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.