Tag: poetry

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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

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Cades Cove Peace

wonder-filled wildlife

sightings, up close and first-hand

driving through Cades Cove

Everyone who joined in this family gathering in Sevierville, Tennessee had their things they wanted to do – – the Smoky Mountain Nascar Speedway, Anakeesta, family game night, dinner out at a special restaurant, and movie time. Mine was visiting Cades Cove, a nature sanctuary that is part of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, where on any given day you can see bears (most hoped-for sighting), wild boar, river otters, deer, foxes, bobcats, snakes, raccoons, wild turkeys, and all kinds of other birds and small mammals.

I was among the throngs hoping to spot a black bear when we entered the eleven mile one-way driving loop through the park. We were blessed with weather every day on this trip, with clear skies and morning temperatures in the upper 50s and afternoons rising into the upper 70s.

We drove past countless creek beds, where we took time to look extra-close for thirsty wildlife out for a morning drink.

And although we didn’t stop at any of the historic churches or homes in the area, we did make a quick trek through the visitor’s center for a souvenir sweatshirt and time to stretch our legs.

The rustic vibe of the cabins and the outdoor beauty created the perfect mood to set the stage for all of the surprises ahead. First, we saw a murder of crows and tried to say murder as many times as we could. October’s spooky chill and the turning of the leaves cast a charming spell on us as we wound through the park, my window down and Zoom lens ready to snap photos of anything that moved.

I never knew this rule, but being in the car kept us safe from any mama bears that might get protective – – if we were fortunate enough to see one.

Rule of Thumb for viewing wildlife. A hand is held out with a thumb up. a bear is in the distance. Text: when viewing wildlife, hold your arm out straight and, if you can't cover the animal in your line of sight with your thumb, you're too close!

Songbirds sang and perched on limbs overhead, and we spotted a doe in the clearing. I wondered whether I, if I were a doe, would choose this place to raise my family. Surely it has its more elevated risks, or at least I predict that it would.

Next, we noticed cars slowing and barely creeping in the line. Up ahead, there was a rafter of turkeys – about ten or twelve, out in the field to the left of us. They crossed right in front of us as we approached. I said a prayer, “Lord, I loved seeing those turkeys, but if you could arrange a bear crossing right in front of us, I’d like to put in a request. Thank you.” And onward we drove.

Up ahead and around the bend, my daughter saw a rustling in the bushes just feet from her passenger door in the back seat. We slowed down, and there in the thicket was a black bear, ambling along the shrubs. We gave it some space as it stepped out directly in front of the car to cross the road.

If you’ve never seen a bear in the wild, its beauty will leave you spellbound. It’s a sight like no other, and its lumbering walk hints at playfulness and strength all at once. I imagined that if it had seen a rabbit at that very moment, we’d have seen the speed and agility of a breakfasting bear. It was, after all, 10:18 a.m. as it stepped out from the trees onto the paved loop.

We sat back, in awe, as it made its way into the woods on the other side, my camera set to click-click-click its every step of the way.

And then, my daughter announced another was behind it – – a little black bear cub, following its mama. Maybe a yearling – – it was a sight to behold, its ears not quite as perked and its steps much lighter and less lumbering. There it went, right behind her, disappearing into the dense woods. We started to move ahead, hoping to catch sight of them walking along the edge of the forest.

But wait.

There’s more.

Another little cub ran across, trying its best to keep up with the family. It was so cute, and looked to be a bit smaller than the first cub.

We pulled over at the place to stop and watch, and we got caught in the line of traffic approaching to see what we’d witnessed. A wildlife viewing traffic jam happened, but for one moment we had a front row seat to the wonder and excitement of a family of bears.

We watched for a while as the cubs played at the foot of a tall tree, with mama off in the distance pausing just ahead of them in a dip of a hill. They tumbled and tossed like two little kids would roll around in the floor, putting on a show for all who were watching.

And then we drove on, leaving our space for others who wanted to catch a glimpse of them.

We decided to take the loop one more time, jockeying off down Sparks Lane instead of exiting the cove. And while we didn’t see another bear, we did encounter a wild boar off in one of the meadows. A park ranger was stationed there to keep the cars moving in that area of the park. We learned that the boars are fairly common in Cades Cove, but that this was a rare sighting because the boars are generally nocturnal and secretive in nature.

We forged ahead, keeping watch for other wildlife, and I thanked the Good Lord for the front row seat to the bears I got to see. I’m as thankful for that wild hog, the turkeys, the crow and other birds, and the deer as I am the bear and her cubs, but the bears added a special layer of joy and happiness to the adventure. And God knew they would!

We’ll be back again. This is a treasure of a drive, rather like the Yellowstone of Tennessee. It’s an unforgettable excursion, and one I’m glad I could share with family!

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Fireside Stories 2025

How did we get kids talking?

How do you get a three year old

to share stories?

Campfire Stories Kids’ Deck!

It’s the theme of this trip- fireside stories. We’re sharing memories and telling stories, and even the youngest kids are getting in on the action. One of the best story generators I’ve ever seen for all ages is Campfire Stories Deck for Kids.

We’ve all been playing. Each storyteller takes a character card (a clumsy fox, a talkative bison, a gassy whale) and an action card (finds a treasure in the desert, accidentally pulls the drain at the bottom of the ocean, jumps into a cloud from a mountaintop). One grandchild laughed so hard telling his story we could hardly understand him. We’ve all had the belly giggles from listening and envisioning the scenes.

Each night of the trip has been full of stories, and we can’t wait to tell more!

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In the Kitchen in the Great Smoky Mountains

Cooks for Night #1:: Briar and Andrew making Tortellini Pasta, Salad, and Garlic Bread

we’re sharing

the joy of cooking

one night at a time

one bite at a time

celebrating

family ties

in magical aprons

Cooks for Night #2 – Ansley and Layne, grilling steaks and whipping up mashed potatoes
Cooks for Night #3 – Sawyer and Marshall making pancakes, eggs, and bacon
Marshall scrambles the cheese eggs

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How To Pumpkin

In one weak moment in the grocery store on the way to Tennessee, I spotted them. Those little pie pumpkins that would be perfect for each of the six younger grandchildren who would be coming on this trip. The idea was to decorate them with Sharpie markers so that they could take them home and start decorating for Halloween. I carefully picked six and placed them gently in the buggy. In my perfect Hallmark movie vision, the family would gather at the table that I would cover in rolled paper and we’d stand in awe as our little artists went to work, safeguarding the permanent markers to be sure the creative flair stayed at the pumpkin table and not on a wall. But first, we’d draw a large pumpkin patch with colored pencils to set the mood and bring on the Halloween chill-in-the-air vibes. We’d draw a fence, bats, cats, owls, ghosts, leaves, and, of course, pumpkins.

It wasn’t ten minutes after covering the table in the rolled paper for drawing our pumpkins that I noticed a stray Sharpie marker cover without the pen on the table amid the color pencils. It sent me into panic mode for every white wall in this place. I’d accidentally left one Sharpie in the bag, and one of the grand young’uns had found it and gotten a head start on the pumpkin decorating, a lot like finding the Christmas presents and having a private gift opening session unto themselves.

Beckham

It was Beckham, better known as Buckey, only spelled differently from the famous all-in-one gas station chain he loves. He’s the one who is always a step ahead of everyone else, keeping us all on our chess game strategy of which move he’ll make next so we can try to guard our Queen. He’s the checkmate kid of the bunch.

River

Then there’s River, who still wears his yellow and black Transformers robe every day. We got it for him for Christmas in 2023 with a little room to grow, and here he is in 2025, still rocking the robe. He’s usually leading every outdoor adventure and thinks like a scientist, always experimenting in the physics of things. He led the final pumpkin activity that happened all in the same day and was never planned – at least by me.

And then there is Saylor, who wrapped her pumpkin in pink Washi tape and called it a day. There are still Sawyer, Noli, and Silas, whose pumpkins remain ready and full of possibility for pie or carving. Safe from the plans River had.

Out on the porch overlooking the valley with the mountains in the distance, I noticed Noli, the youngest granddaughter, along with Sawyer, the second oldest grandson, and my son Marshall, their dad, watching something off the side of the balcony. Sure they’d spotted a family of young bear cubs with their lumbering mother tumbling in play, I rushed over only to discover that two of the perfect pie pumpkins I’d gently placed in the grocery cart were now part of a full-on science project as the kids hurled them down the steep hill on the side of the house we’re renting for the week in the Tennessee mountains.

I was scared a kid would go tumbling down the hill next, but my instinct to holler for them to come back inside was quelled by my son, who reminded me that they are used to scaling mountains barefooted and all since their other grandparents have a mountain house they visit regularly and run just as wild there. “They’re okay. Let’s watch what happens,” he assured me.

And sure enough, everyone is safe, even after two of the pumpkins split wide open, revealing fleshy pulp, pumpkin slime, and seeds. Saylor came in, wanting to know if we could roast them. So here was yet the actual final pumpkin activity that she stretched out and made fun. We spread single layer onto parchment paper and revved up the oven.

Thirty minutes later, we had roasted pumpkin seeds.

I thought back to the careful selection of the pumpkins and the gentle placement of each in the cart. How my vision was so limited and idyllic, and how much further the kids stretched the whole pumpkin experience – – from drawing them to decorating them to rolling them down a hill to roasting the seeds and feeling the stringy insides to eating the seeds, all salty and nutty and warm.

And in these moments, I realize how much more I can learn from my children and grandchildren than they will ever learn from me. To stand back and watch them discover. To let it all unfold outside my own vision for how I see it happening – because my ideas are limited, and theirs are boundless.

To savor each

moment take it all in

for under the surface

are delicious seeds

I never imagined,

just waiting…..

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Revealing the Theme: Haynes Family Fireside Stories 2025

On the first night of the trip, I got Sawyer to share the theme of this year’s trip since the gathering we had in June was sad for everyone. We wanted to shift the grief of our Dad and Papa to togetherness and fun by telling old stories by the fire and making new memories as we get out and go adventuring. And so our theme is……

Sawyer revealed our

family mountain trip theme:

Fireside Stories! (Shirts)

Sawyer shares the theme
for this year’s trip: Haynes Family Fireside Stories 2025
Our cooks for the first night ~ Briar and Andrew
Silas kicks back in the porch swing
Cousins reunite and share their own little stories
Kitchen fun
Sunset on Day 1
Rule #1: Never think that kids will wait to decorate the pumpkins. More on that later.

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Packing for Family Togetherness

We leave today for Tennessee. Rewind to the part back in June where we were all together when Dad died, and two of the kids didn’t make it in time to see him one last time. We were all too sad to enjoy the time we were spending, and one said, “Mom, can we wait until we’re a little happier and get a place together in the fall?”

I said yes. Fast forward to now, and here we are – packed and ready to go.

We’ve got the door code to the VRBO, and we’ve got a full tank of gas and 75% of the groceries we’ll need for 14 people for the week. We’re taking turns cooking dinners and we’ll forage for breakfast and lunch whenever we feel like getting up and shuffling to the kitchen unless someone feels like getting up and cooking big. With 6 of the 7 grandchildren and our 4 children and two of their spouses, we’ll spend time swimming in the indoor pool, watching movies in the home theater, and playing games in the game room. It will be good to be in a place to enjoy togetherness rather than trying to figure out where to go and what to do each day. A ride through Cade’s Cove and a picnic may be the most exciting thing on the list, and it’s about our speed. Slow.

And I’ll reveal the family theme, on t-shirts, sometime tomorrow evening. The kids left it to me, and I think we’ve got one that we’ll all enjoy as we hang out by the fire this week. Stay tuned for that!

We’re Packed…..

dominoes and cookie dough

puzzle mat and all of that

decks of cards, Scrabble, too

all the things we love to do

camera, phone, and PaperWhite

family shirts and pumpkin bites

groceries and snacks galore

there’s no way we could need more

all of us, a week together

snuggling in October weather

heading up to Tennessee

us and them and you and me

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October Tricube

I love writing tricubes! In a tricube poem, there are three stanzas. Each stanza has three lines. Each line has three syllables. The rhyme scheme is a,b,c,a,b,c,a,b,c. Try your own today, and feel the fun of writing a poem!

mist veil floats
home fires burn
witches' hats

eerie notes
tree leaves turn
sleek black cats

sweater coats
earthlings learn
vampire bats
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Living

I want to be like

Patricia Routledge: brave, strong

always living full

She was a staple in our home as my children and I watched Keeping Up Appearances each week on British TV. We knew all those flower sisters- Rose, Daisy, Violet…….and, of course, Hyacinth. We called our Ansley “Onslow,” a twist on vowels, so popular was this show that we adored. There was nothing like an episode watching Elizabeth rattle that teacup at the mere presence of Hyacinth. And it’s nice today to reflect on Patricia Routledge’s real life and how she lived it. Here is something she wrote a year ago, and I think her message is one that we all need to hear as we age.

One month before turning 95, Patricia Routledge wrote this. She died earlier this week at 96. I thought it was worth sharing.

“I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. When I was younger, I often worried I wasn’t good enough—that I’d never be cast again, that I’d disappoint my mother. But these days begin in peace and end in gratitude.”

In my forties, my life finally began to make sense. Before that, I’d performed steadily—provincial stages, radio plays, West End productions—but felt somewhat lost. I was searching for something within myself, a home I hadn’t yet found.

At 50, I took a television role that many of you would later know me by—Hyacinth Bucket from Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would just be a minor role, a brief moment. I never expected it to become beloved across the globe. That character taught me to embrace my quirks and quietly healed something deep within me.

At 60, I started learning Italian—not for my career, but simply so I could sing opera in its native tongue. I learned the gentle art of living alone without loneliness, reading poetry aloud each night—not to perfect diction, but to soothe my spirit.

At 70, I returned to Shakespearean theatre, a place I once thought I’d aged out of. This time, there was nothing to prove. I stepped onto those legendary boards with calmness. The audience felt that serenity. I had stopped performing; I was simply being.

At 80, I discovered watercolor painting. I painted flowers from my garden, nostalgic hats from my youth, and faces glimpsed on the London Underground—each painting was a silent memory made tangible.

Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning the simple joy of baking rye bread. I still breathe deeply each morning. Laughter remains precious, though I no longer feel the need to make others laugh. Quietness is sweeter than ever.

I’m writing this today to share something simple and true:

Growing older isn’t a final act—it can be life’s most exquisite chapter if you allow yourself to bloom once more.

Let the years ahead be your treasure years.

You don’t have to be perfect, famous, or adored.

You only need to be present—fully—for the life that’s yours.

With warmth and gentle love,

— Patricia Routledge

Cheers to blooming once more! As we face each decade beyond the prime 30s, there is pruning to be done and living to do as we bloom.