Woodland Woodwings


There’s harmony with a hornet’s nest
but I prefer the chirp, twitter, or tweet
of the eastern towhee’s “drink your tea.”

While butterflies are beating wings,
the bullfrog’s sing in baritone,
and cicadas play their violin;

I slurp my glass of iced tea!


Like others, it’s been awhile. I couldn’t help to say, “Happy Anniversary dVerse!”

Dverse Poetry





Duck Jingle…

DSCN1680Dabbling duck on lucid rise

mallard in my murky pond

paddling, swimming all around

waggle tail a wishing wand


Bright green head bobs in fen*

mirrored image crystal clear.

Now still waters, you are found

waiting, wadding, weightless here…


Beetles, worms, and dragonflies;

bill is pushing like a probe.

Plant food grazing toward the ground;

time for nesting ‘cross the globe.


Nintendo Duck Hunting is near…

goose invasion in the sky.

Deep beneath marsh grass you’re bound;

emerald feathers dwell or die.


As I pen this fowl verse…

stumbling quickly back in time;

a tender melody hounds

of my son’s childhood rhyme.


Words, lexis to describe

What simple pleasure they stir;

each one so carefully bound

to make a little lad purr.


I’ll hum simple melody;

brush off former frosty rime*

slowly sauntering; spellbound,

smiling… stop the hands of time!


“Duck quack, quack

Duck quack, quack

Wiggle waggle, wiggle waggle

Duck quack, quack

Here comes another…

Duck quack, quack.”


Tribute to Dan the critter man.

* (fen-swamp, rime-ice)


Thirsty windblown leaf
longs for taste of spring;
taste of Living Waters.

Chaff lost upon the breeze.
Now, seeks the Lamb of God;
seeking that which can set free.

Tears falling as raindrops,
seasons turning briskly;
turn frigid and rather thin.

Earthly seasons leave this life.
Yet, there’s true life in water;
there in the Living Waters.

“They shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any heat;for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” Revelation 7:16-17

Back for a bit over at dVerse; saying “hi” to the gang.

First Day of School ?


Formal Setting:
Depending on which side
of the chalk board one stands;
bubbling excitement of new friends
or old begin the school year.
There’s the teacher who spent summer
lining lesson plans to unlock children’s mind!
Student’s whose feet…
are still wet with summer sand;
building castles from last year middle age studies.
Stiff shoes, clean clothes, waxy crayons, and lunch…
Piles of homework stuffed in heavy packs,
crowded halls, bells ringing, and long days.

While at home:
Summer studies melt into fall’s colors;
caterpillar still hangs in wrapped chrysalis,
frog is a lesson in metamorphosis, and
summer’s flowers are a science project.
Mornings are spent in P.J. lab coats;
pounding out the hard stuff like everyone else.
Afternoons linger in literature and such;
exploring to one’s heart’s desire.
For one day you’ll be that engineer,
medical advisor or build your own business.
Education started at home… with your first steps.

Home Education isn’t such a surprise to people anymore, but 30 years ago we battled a few giants. Between my sis and me we taught all our eleven children: two began their own businesses, one became a police officer, another a nurse, one a day manager of a restaurant, an engineer, two are in the personal care, one serves in the Starbucks community, one is still studying to be an electrician, the youngest just graduated and is on her way to a medical profession.

Through the years my boys socially were involved in church clubs, community sports, organized educational outings, and monthly home school activities (where dozens of children competed in different events). I now have the privilege of helping educate my granddaughter and watch her flourish into the woman she will one day be. Watching her take those first steps in so many different things life has to offer is breath-taking.

Returning of the Fawn


Ecliptic sun rest…
in ribbons on spotted fawn;
orbits brings this season
of birth and nurturing.
Cool degree in wood,
In this place about the earth.
I glide,
as shooting star
waiting for the perigee
(a moment explored)
hidden in fringe
of forest shade.
Reflecting with scope
unmanageable for me;
a zenith, in which,
I cannot reach
its summit.

There isn’t a day which passes, lately, in which I seek out the twin fawns I spotted a year ago in the underbrush of our woodland. It was such an unexpected event, one I wish to revisit. Above is the new twist, via dVerse’s prompt, to the old poem below. Enjoy the pockets of summer sun soon to turn to autumn.

In Shaded Wood

Twin fawns nestled in dark places
like spotted mushrooms rooted deep;
with stealth as crafty shadow stretched.
My muscles misplace their motion.
Years… I’ve sauntered this craggy path;
seeking only enough riches for one day.
Amazed in this extraordinary moment;
wondering how many years will pass,
if again, my eyes will gaze on such a site.


The stars they twinkle one by one;
a splendid sight to see.
I watch them shine across the sky;
a million miles from me.
His deed to speak them there to stay,
now I affirm His fame.
Heaven is not so far away;
tonight I rest in peace.
“The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork.”
Psalms 19:1

Still lingering in Psalms 19:1 writing Not-So-Common Meter over at dverse.


The Nature of Things


I drench my pillow with salty tears,
as night shadows loiter – slowly lurk;
till twinkling stars map promising hope.
Down woodland lane and sturdy oaks,
past thick meadow spills new growth,
toward endless surf and eternal sands;
all so much greater than I am.
There I whisper a longing prayer;
God’s creation with each rising sun.
“The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork.”
Psalms 19:1

Over at dverse we’re taking a look at nature’s healing touch.