Patchwork Prose and Verse
Drifting Off
every night, my husband gives me a
magnesium cream foot massage
to help me get better sleep
before bed, we read for
an hour to unwind ~
bedwarmers, we
turn pages
drifting
off
With a hug of gratitude to the ladies at wholesomehippy, who make good sleep great.
After a long weekend working in the yard taking advantage of the gorgeous middle Georgia weather, the best remedy for the sore muscles was a Sunday evening glass of wine in my favorite glass. It’s a ruby chalice that belonged to my parents, and I found it as we were cleaning out the house on the heels of Dad’s death back in June. Red was my mother’s favorite color, and so I brought this cup home with me for those wine nights when I need to unwind and relax. I like that there’s not another one quite like it that I’ve seen anywhere – – and that I can remember Mom as I kick back and take it easy at the end of a productive weekend.
Peaceful, Easy Feeling
I have half-filled my ruby chalice
with Sam’s Club Old Vine Zinfandel
the best affordable wine
here in front of the fire
Eagles music plays
my sore muscles
feeling peace
with each
sip
This month, I continue 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. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Today’s prompt: Begin the writing with “Nothing at all happened.” Or end it that way. I’ve chosen a Nonet and Reverse Nonet today, where each line 9-1 and 1-9 has that many syllables on it. I’ve also chosen a circular ending so that the same line that begins also ends the poem.
Nothing at all happened yesterday.
I did not drink any coffee.
I did not take a shower.
I didn’t brush my teeth,
did not take dogs out,
did not get up ~
stayed in bed
all day
long
but
then my
alarm rang
the day began
like any other,
coffee and shower
and toothbrush and leashes
the residue of a dream
hung thick in early morning air:
nothing at all happened yesterday?
Leilya Pitre of Louisiana is our host today for the last day of the June Open Write. You can read her full prompt here. She inspires us to write poems about small acts of kindness. If you’ve ever curated a music playlist on a theme, you know there is excitement in the discovery of related verse – it’s an addictive cognitive hobby. Leilya has done that – curated a group of poems on a theme – and offers several model poems to use as inspiration. She shares these below:
She explains the process and urges us to write an etheree or nonet as our poetry form.
A Gift of Dill Pickle Chip
I slide my dill pickle to the side
a rippled chip, algae-hued green
floppy, salty, puckery
knowing he’s eyeing it,
never having to
ask for this chip
he knows I’ll
offer
it
Brittany Saulnier, our host for Day 15 of VerseLove2025, is the author of the short story LIGHT OUT in the anthology Just YA: Short Stories, Poems, Essays & Fiction for grades 7 -12. She is the co-creator of Read to Write Kidlit, a podcast dedicated to improving writing craft by talking with authors about their books.
She invites us to think of a recent memory where we were “in nature” and write a poem that highlights the three colors from our memory. You can read Brittany’s full prompt here.
All the Colors of Sunset
what do you call the shade of sunset?
sometimes it’s 14-carat gold
other times, it’s tangerine
or pink cotton candy
sunflower yellow
or lilac storm
….the best nights,
ruby
red
Our hosts today for the fifth and final day of the March Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com are preservice teachers, students at Aquinas College. Come on over and read their prompt as they inspire us to write a nonet.
All I can do is daydream about spending time with my grandchildren, so that’s what I do most afternoons in the 2:36-3:07 slice of my day. I have photos of my family on my desk, and I think on the happy memories when I was rocking newborn Silas, playing Yahtzee with 15 year old Aidan, and pushing Saylor and Noli on the swings, catching River and Beckham at the bottom of the slide, and helping Sawyer put on his new rollerblades at the park. These are the days I look forward to in retirement, and while I can’t be there yet, I can surely daydream about it……..
I’m proud of my seven grandchildren
days steeped in workday retirement
daydreams to spend time with them ~
rocking, reading, playground
visits, traveling,
loving them up
proud nana
full time
fun
today we take the next steps toward
building our barndominium
it’s all part of the process
in our retirement plan ~
simplify, downsize,
anticipate
ease in days
ahead
now
Each night, we take the boys out right before bed – our three rescue Schnoodles, ready to do their business and settle in for the night. We shine a high-beam flashlight into the woods to see if there is anything out there that looks menacing before we venture out too far – – living deep in these woods of rural Georgia, we never know what could be lurking in the dark at any distance from the door. Two of our dogs must be on a leash, but the third dog begs his daddy for mercy and gets it every time: freedom from restraint.
And that is how Boo Radley (a Schnoodle – – not a coonhound) treed a raccoon week before last.
We heard a sudden scuttle around the corner, and Boo took off like a shooting star straight to the source of the sound. I caught my breath, certain that his time had come. The dog knows no fear. All we heard was claws on pine bark, so we knew something had scurried up into a tree. My first thought was a bobcat – – we see them from time to time, and one had just crossed the road in front of me as I’d driven home a couple of weeks ago. We shone the light up into the trees, searching for whatever it was this time. He’s chased it all – – foxes, stray dogs, feral cats, squirrels, possums, deer, chickens, donkeys, and even a wayward herd of cattle, bull included. This time, a mischievous little raccoon face was staring down at us from the crook of a tree limb, as curious about us as we were about him.
So here we are, with yet another critter that wants to hang out with us here on the east side of the Johnson Funny Farm. We’ve named him Ringo Starr for the rings around his eyes and the shooting star dog that gives chase to anything that moves in these parts. And since it’s coyote mating season on top of everything else, Boo Radley has lost all mercy of being off the leash for night walks.
our Schoodle Boo Radley treed a coon
in the deep, dark night at the edge
of the deeper, darker woods
where we never know what
all lurks by the eyes
shining in the
flashlight beam
back at
us
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
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}!
Common Threads 