Decadently Retired

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Like licking the spatula
when no one’s looking,
Or sneaking up to see
if Santa’s been there,

It feels decadently naughty
to sleep in till after eight, or
to order pizza delivery
in the middle of the afternoon.

But it’s the privilege of
being retired, and I think I’ll
pour a glass of wine, and…
I’ll be asleep before nine!

If Only…

If…
I could mend a fence,
I’d scrap the barbed wire
and build a gate where
friends could pass through.

If…
I could build a bridge,
it would cross barriers
grown up around me,
connect neighborhoods.

If…
I could forge steel,
I’d build a shield
that would deflect evil
and reflect peace.

If only…

My Exercise Schedule

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I know I need to move more,
but when it’s labeled exercise,
my body just won’t go.

Yet, give me a smooth pathway
inside an air-conditioned mall,
and watch me rock ‘n roll.

The music keeps me hopping
through the halls and stores
as I go about my shopping.

Hours fly by, and before I know it,
I’ve met my weekly walking goal,
and I did it all today!

Opening Doors

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Doors in stone buildings down old street

Knock on any door in the World,
and you may find yourself in

The Atacama Desert of Chile
where ne’er a teardrop falls,

Or at Victoria Falls in Africa,
where cascades of tears gush.

You may meet a Tasmanian devil
dervishly clearing out the past

Or a three-toed sloth,
waiting for future to come.

Knock and enter many doors;
experience the worlds beyond,

For only then can you design
the world behind your door.

Why Write Online Book Reviews?

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online book review

Why Write Online Book Reviews

Do you get e-mails or requests to review books you’ve read? Do you hesitate?  Did you know your single review impacts further sales and even the ability of the publisher to advertise the book?  Want to know more?  Would you like help to write that review?  For more tips, visit….. Guidelines for Writing Online Book Reviews.

Cupid’s Arrow

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Swinging on moonbeams
up among the stars,

A cupid watches over us
And stares in disbelief

It was his first assignment,
He’d studied long and hard:

“You must first see the glow
as they hold each other tight…
Yes, it’s there;

“Secondly, look for the signs
of admiration and respect…
Yes, they adore each other;

“Then, hold them up to the moonlight
So you can see their hearts

“Infuse your arrow with stardust,
then taking careful aim

“Pull the bow backward
and let the magic begin.”

It’s been decades since he “shot us”
but the magic hasn’t left;

The glow still surrounds us
With admiration and respect.

Challenge to write a poem about love without using the word love.

An Old-Fashioned Kitchen

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Kitchen table set

The door hung crooked
on rusty, rickety hinges;
its half-coiled catch-spring
had seen better days;

its wiry old screen stretched
‘tween thin wooden slats,
served as air-conditioner
and the way in and out.

The “foyer” you entered was a porch
lined with boots and shoes,
where coats hung on J hooks
for everyday use.

Company entered here, too–
adults going on to the living room;
children in and out the screen door, then
joining adults for the supper meal.

It was acceptable to entertain
in the commons areas back then—
no formal rooms or dens to show off.
People came to visit; they came to see you.

Today, there are front-area sitting rooms
where guests are ushered; they’ll not linger.
Time is a commodity, in short supply,
so visits are limited, an agenda attached.

It’s kind of sad it’s come to this,
guests being entertained in these special rooms
instead of being welcomed
into the hearts of our homes.

Flying to New Heights

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Flock of birds going toward trees

Whoopa, whoopa, whoopa,
echoed the air as they flew in,

their dark feathers stark
against the cold, gray sky.

Drawn to our berry-laden trees, their
beaks quickly filled with winter fruits,

juices dribbling down their breasts as they sampled the fare,
seeds spilling out as they reached for more.

It’s wasn’t long before the roof above me
sounded as if it were caving in, the

thunderous bohm, bohm, bohm
as hundreds of birds pounced upon landing.

Drops of water sloshed over the gutter
as they drank at the ready trough of melted snow.

I couldn’t help but watch as they regathered
in formation, no fighting over leadership,

no squawking or squealing or even chittering,
just a gentle breeze of whoooo as they took flight,

completely satisfied with the simplest of things…
a full tummy, a quenched thirst, and

renewed strength to reach great heights
in the company of friends.

The Raven

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Raven bird

Today is January 19, birthday of Edgar Allan Poe, author of the famous poem, “The Raven.” I was curious, so I did some searching today and was fascinated by the variety of beliefs about Ravens. We chose the name Raven Books for our writing/publishing company as a representation of the positive influence Ravens have had on our lives, but obviously not eveyone believes as we do.

Do you believe in the symbolism of the Raven as depressing, as Poe divulged in his poem, or do you believe in other lore of the Raven as magical, or as a protector? Are you one who goes straight to the facts and believes the high intelligence of the Raven, able to be trained to speak? or the metaphysical view that ravens can predict the future?

Following the Cloven Hoof Trail

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I followed two-forked tracks
As they skimmed o’er the snow,

And thought, oh what fun
they must have had last night.

I lost the trail
as I neared the house–

what could’ve happened
as I lay sound asleep?

Therein lies the most wondrous surprise,
For right before my very eyes,

As I looked up at the roof’s crusty freeze,
I saw it was broken by cloven hoofs.

Now, it’s said on a very special night,
a sleighful of goodies arrives by flight
filled with candy treats and bazillions of toys
for all the good little girls and boys…

Yet there’s only adults
at this particular house,
Why were they there?
Did I even care?

*****. *****

Days have now passed since
I found the trail, but I’m beginning to see
why he stopped by my way. He left

not a package, but the present he gave
was sharing the secret of spirit with me.

“Be present,” he said,
“enjoy every day,
include friends and family
along the way.”

I now smile with the spirit dwelling within,
I feel blessed he chose me to visit this year,

and yes,
if anyone sees the tracks on my roof,
I’ll tell them the story of cloven hoofs.

 

Winter Icicles

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Night’s darkening depths of cold
suspend iced stalactites like roof fringe,

vertical beds of melting snow
awaiting tomorrow’s frosty thaw
when the crystalized tapers will drip to life

under the glowing spotlight of sun,
dancing as they reach the ground,
pooling together for midday fun.

Extending the Season

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As we close the Christmas season and greet
the new year, wishing all a Happy New Year.

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Glowing lights on houses,
Brightly lit trees in windows,
Excited children fidgeting
As they await Santa’s return.

‘Tis the season for sharing
Warmth and good cheer,
May these peaceful times
Spread throughout the new year.

Above the Crowd

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Leaf atop pile

It’s Autumn when falling leaves
either saunter down or
circle with driving force.

Irrespective of their roots, or even
from whose yard they spent their summer,
they gather together.

Nearly indistinguishable from one another,
oak and ash wear charcoal coats of crunch,
lying among tarnished poplar leaves.

A multicolored leaf rests on top,
similar in size and shape, yet different,
the anomaly, standing out.

I finally understand why Mom always said,
“Don’t fall among the crowd;
Be confident; be yourself.”

The Perfect Fit

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Feet of a couple

What makes a shoe fit?

Is it the style that says it’s you, or
a comfortable pair, you can’t imagine being without?

Is it the way your foot glides when it’s on, or
is it that it caresses your feet as you walk?

Does it complete your ensemble, or
make you feel special when you slip it on?

Did you fall in love with it and not know why,
Because I know that’s how I felt, and

It’s how I feel about you and me…
A comfortable pair, caressing, loving;
you completing me in a most special way
as we glide through our lives together.

11/18/15

Preconceived

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Walk light

A word search puzzle baffled me,
my letters just weren’t there,
Yet a different word solution
was waiting to be found.

I shouldn’t have been surprised
as it happens now and then;
But when I thought just how it worked,
I knew I had something there.

It’s like waiting at a crosswalk for
the light to turn green,
then discovering the walk light
had been flashing all along.

Look beyond the obvious,
turn your preconceptions around,
for answers are often found,
when we open our inside out.

Returning Home

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Fall leaves in motion

I savored the colorful fallen leaves
and the deep, woodsy scent
of maple and oak as I tried to
shape their formation.

The harder I struggled against the winds,
the more the pile seemed to separate,
small clusters encircling my knees,
twirling with excitement as they rose to leave.

And I thought of children, young adults really,
leaving with the anxiousness of Autumn winds.

I know they both will return changed,
some choosing a brief visit,
others remaining among the familiar,
enriching the land and the lives
they touch as they settle in.

With the love of a mother,
I embrace the changes
and look forward to
once again sharing our worlds.

Eau de Autumn

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Shiny gold bottle

If I could bottle the essence of autumn…

I would gather the abundance of harvests
into a sheath of flavors,
enhancing it with spicy winds from twirling
leaves of red and orange and yellow.

I would preserve the last blooms of summer,
before winter’s icy fingers took hold,
perpetuating their beauty and scent
as a sweetener for my autumn eau.

I would complete my vialed essence
by filling the bottle with crisp fall air,
letting it gently settle to the bottom,
suspending the stars of autumn as it
drifted through and filled the emptiness within.

Then I’d wrap it all in gold leaf
for autumn is always presented
in the richest of ways.

Doodle Bug

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Faith (zentangle doodle)

Flowers budding off the page,
curlicue swirls in margins,
words interspersed with scribbles,
drawings fit for the wall.

That’s what teachers collected,
but not with a smiling face,
for doodling was called inattention,
and as such, considered poor taste.

But research has since been conducted,
and as strange as it is to believe,
attention is often enhanced,
if we’re doodling while listening at length.

Now they’ve taken something intrinsic,
labeled it teachable art, produced
hundreds of books and videos
illustrating just how it should be.

But it’s like my tennis game,
learned entirely on my own;
when I took lessons from the masters,
I fell flat, not making the score.

If there’s a lesson to be learned here,
it’s to have faith in what you know,
and passionately doodle away
while listening to what you don’t know.