"Janeiro" by Catherine Walters; All Rights Reserved

“Janeiro” by Catherine Walters; All Rights Reserved


A perpetual beat is
going on in her head.
Some think she’s a
clown as her life
mimics the rhythmic
pulsing within.
A wild dance
fires her mind
and paints her
world in vivid
splashes of
color. Passion
is orange, zesty
with fervor,
it’s what propels
her silken soul.

She wears her heart
on her sleeve but
no one notices
because it’s lost
among all the
colorful and
artsy accessories
adorning her
clothing and
etching her face.

Some keep their
distance; she’s
just too different.
But inside she’s
deeply sensitive
and wants more
than anything
to be accepted
and loved.
No one notices
as a tear some-
times slips and
rolls silently
down her cheek.

She was born
in January,
sign of Capricorn.
And it suits her.
She is diligent
and responsible,
honest and
always waiting
for others to
finally see her
strengths and
her heartfelt
to succeed
at life and make
that connection
with others.

I wrote my ekphrastic poem using my very talented niece’s painting titled, “Janeiro.”

Today is Open Link Night where Grace hosts us over at dVerse Poets Pub.  Please join us by linking any one poem of your choice.


My car’s air conditioning had gone out. Yes, gone out in this miserable and all-encompassing heat.  But I had received it back from the mechanic and had been assured all was well after spending close to $1,000.00 on a new compressor and accumulator (whatever that is).  So as I took off to do my errands the next day I fully expected cold, refreshing, frigid air to be copiously blowing forth from my brand new air conditioner…but, no, it did not.  It was doing what it had done when I took it in…switching on and off, willy-nilly.  Right now it was blowing HOT!  Returning home, I called the mechanic and reported my sorrowful predicament as sweat slowly trickled down my neck.  It’s going back in next week…CURSES!

heat wave shimmers a
mirage—cool, undulating
ripples form a swell

* As a side note, my car went back to the mechanic last week where they replaced another part (only charged me for the part, no labor) and although the car cooled on the way home, it stopped again and has started going on and off again.  Argh!  Back it goes later this week.  The mechanic couldn’t believe it and wants to keep the car and drive it for a couple of days so he can see what it’s doing.  Really bad timing!

Toni is our host for Haibun Monday.  See her presentation at dVerse for all the details and join us for one of our most popular prompts.

Government on the Down Low

shot through
with lie
keep out
the truth
death row
is how
sent down
the river
a paddle

our justice
to make
sure all
is on the
up and up
and not
the down low
I’ve seen the
and I’m
going to
shine it bright
on the shameful
that cage
and murder
the guiltless
It cannot be
that there
is this penalty.

Today at dVerse Poets we revisit our friend Anthony Desmond and our prompt is to write on a belief that you once held that has now changed.

Two Tweet-Length Poems


5th anniversary celebration,
old friends revisited feels
slightly melancholy, new
year ahead, clean slate
permits new inspiration,
growth and fun


meeting a date,
conversation flow-
ing but feel no spark
then he turns the
convo to politics and
starts dissing Hillary
date quickly takes
a nose dive 

We visit with our former member, Samuel Peralta, at dVerse Poets Pub for our 5th Anniversary celebration and write a poem using 144 characters.

The Village

Artist: Claudia Schoenfeld Used with Permission

Artist:  Claudia Schoenfeld; Used With Permission

Greenwich Village was once a haven for beatniks, artists and poets.
Bohemians still stroll past cello players on the sidewalk in front of
luxury high rises, old-world townhouses and family-owned businesses.

Tenement style walk-ups and brownstones are interspersed with night clubs.
And you can still feel the rich history from the 1950s Beat generation
and the homosexual revolution that brought about social change.

Macho men of the disco era are long ago vestiges of the village.

Victoria is our host for our second day of celebration for our dVerse Poet’s Pub 5th anniversary with an interview with our beloved co-founder Claudia Schoenfeld.  Click the link to see what our prompt is for today.

Intersecting Lives

Two women’s
lives intersect as
their life journey
connects them online
through their writing.
I admire her quilting,
her husband’s
talent with embroidery
and posted photos of
her surrounding
When I learn that
she has unexpectedly
passed away, my
heart misses a beat.

Join us at dVerse Poets as Grace presents an interview with one of our beloved co-founders, Brian Miller, for our 5th anniversary celebration this week.  We are also writing a Quadrille today…click on the link for details.

Wild Roses

The trellis is filled
with abundant, rainbow
hued blossoms of
pale sun, pinks like
baby cheeks and just
a light caress of
lilacs. Summer’s
bountiful rains
bring twining,
wild roses.
They thrive
weaving in and out,
and support each other,
climbing the arbor untamed.

Bjorn provides our word to use in our Quadrilles today over at dVerse Poets…join with us in one of our most popular prompts!


Shallow creek running through Mead Botanical Garden; Photo from Yelp

My friend and I were on our bikes oblivious to the scorching midsummer day. We just enjoyed riding, feeling the wind in our hair and having the freedom to go wherever we wanted.  On this day we made our way over to Mead Gardens a few miles from our homes.  It was a 48 acre botanical garden with an ancient glass hothouse where gorgeous orchids still thrived.  The door was locked but we would peer in through the green algae-covered windows and admire the flowers.

Soon the sky darkened with the expected afternoon rains. No thunder or lightning but just a light rain fell and we made our way over to the small, shallow creek that gently trickled through the garden.  We jumped in with our already wet clothes on and walked through the water meandering through the lush foliage that grew along the banks.  It was just another summer adventure for us; we didn’t care one bit that we were sopping wet.

butterfly garden
chrysalis hangs from milkweed
liquid crystals drip

Toni is our host at dVerse Poets for Haibun Monday.  Please see her presentation there for all the details.

Afflicted Bane

Down to the basement, dark and damp
stamping my feet to scare what may
play and scatter down there. Things in corners,
(foreigners with matted fur and eyes of red)
bred to frighten and scare me silly.
Willies they give me and shudders and shrieks,
(speak in low and guttural growls)
foul and forlorn their lives down there.
Fair, not one bit; their teeth are green.
Between the washer and the dryer
higher up on the shelf above
sort of wedged back way too far
are the canned beans I need.
Flee fast as soon as I grab,
drab basement, my afflicted bane
gaining speed up the steps, I depart
heart thumping, safe at last.

Victoria instructs us on meter and setting a mood at dVerse Poets.  I chose a chain/link form to attempt matching meter to mood.  Oy!  I have no idea what I’m doing!

Goddess of Mercy; Quan Yin

Supreme goddess
hears the cries of the world
and eases the suffering
of all sentient beings.
She’s the Goddess of Mercy,
a bodhisattva who’s
vowed to free us all from life’s
cycle of birth and death
and maya’s gripping hold.
She embraces our sorrows
and soothes our spirits
while pouring
cool, calming waters
of compassion
over our anguished souls.
She’s promised to remain
in these earthly realms
even though her
own enlightenment
has already been attained.
She’s empathy incarnate;
gentle and tender,
her countenance
is acceptance and
loving-kindness toward all.
You need but utter her name and
she will at once be at your side,
bringing protection and gain–
ever tireless in her caring.
A regal goddess riding the waves
upon a dragon; she arrives to defend.
Even to those who create harm in others,
her benevolence holds them all with
the encompassing love of a mother.

O mother, Quan Yin, I take refuge
in your bountiful kindness
that shines forth with infinite purity.
I feel your grace that showers me with peace
and I know that I am protected.
I am blessed by your eternal
compassion that flows
with abundance and I feel
your warm embrace that holds
me safe until I no longer need holding.

The following are some photos of two Quan Yin statues that I own.  The brass one with Quan Yin being held aloft by a hand was brought back from Nepal from my world-traveling friend, Sandrine.  It’s very special to me. I have felt an affinity with Quan Yin since I first became acquainted with her story.




Photos by Gayle Walters Rose; All Rights Reserved

Lillian is our host for Poetics over at dVerse Poets Pub and invites us to write from the perspective of a sculpture.

The Biggest Oil Spill You’ve Never Heard Of

In 2004 after Hurricane Ivan struck,
20 wells from an offshore platform
in the Gulf of Mexico owned by Taylor Energy
began leaking and has been spilling forth
oil ever since. This oil leak has been kept
secret from the public for 12 years.

Come join us as De hosts our Quadrille Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub where we write an entire poem in exactly 44 words using the word ‘spill.’

An Ordinary Day with an Extraordinary Girl

I open the screen door to the porch and make my way toward their back door. Sometimes I’ll see Dad in the doorway as he puts the finishing touches on my daughter’s coffee that she takes with her to work.  Many times I see no one until I step inside and look to my right and there I find the small child that delights my heart sitting on the sofa with her iPad on her lap.  Still in her “jammies”, she barely glances at me until I engage her with questions about the story she’s engrossed in.  “Mira, are you watching that three little pigs and the big, bad wolf video again?”

heavy humid air
lies still across the Ganga
blue crabs scuttle home

Please join us for Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets where Toni asks us to write on ordinary, everyday goings on in our lives.



Bing Images Public Domain

All color is transmuted matte and gray,
the sun obscured by this ripping pain.
It’s unfathomable that you are gone,
the earth minus your comforting form.
My mind is fogged; I can’t conceive that
your breath has stilled to be no more.
Tears stain my face and well again
as I remember you and how we loved.
Your countenance pure and sweetly bright,
you brought good cheer and lifted my heart.
Accepting and kind, compassionate eyes
perused this world with a spiritual gaze.
For children and animals a special smile
was conveyed unlimited to share your charm.
Your hand outstretched to those along your path
was a gift bestowed like heaven on earth.
So though I miss you and still must mourn,
I realize that your precious time here was done.
You’re at peace now and I soon will be too
as I feel deep within that we’ll meet up again.

Join me at dVerse Poets Pub as I present writing an elegy for Meeting the Bar Thursday at 3PM.

Unwinding Along a Winding Road

Being taken on long, scenic, nature drives has always been a favorite way for me to relax. My mind instantly turns to what is outside the window and I’ve managed to catch many displays of wildlife. I’ve seen bald eagles soaring high overhead.  I’ve spotted osprey in their huge nests, tiny Kingfisher resting daintily on telephone wires, rabbits on the fringe of woods, Red-Shouldered Hawks perched on fence posts, wild turkeys gobbling on the side of roads and numerous alligators, some submerged with their long, nubby heads showing, their eyes just above the water line and many more sunning on banks.  I love catching these snippets of nature while driving along a winding trail at a state park or just out in a country setting.

One very late night several years ago, my partner at the time and I headed out of town to watch the early morning Perseid meteor shower. To get a better chance of viewing we drove away from the lights of Orlando, maybe 10 miles to the Econlockhatchee River.  Before we even reached our destination, I started seeing the telltale streaks of meteors flashing through the sky.  Calming and exciting at the same time!

Night rides can be very soothing. My mother would sometimes gather all of us kids in the car and drive around in the evenings, windows down, cooling and calming us down.

Perseid shower
blazing stars fall from the sky
vanish in a flash

Join us at dVerse Poets where Toni hosts us for Haibun Monday.  We are asked to write on ways that we truly relax.  Toni’s presentation will be published at 3PM EST Monday.  Please read it for full details.

This Day


a day

like this day

like no other day

before, since or after today,

it dawned anew, fresh,  pure, clean

as if the first to have been.

Yesterday is gone, the future does not exist.

So place your mind firmly on this present moment.

This point in time, it’s all we will ever have.

A Singular Moment of Spring


sheer curtains

gently lift slightly

by a cool wind

that began across the lake

kicking up tiny, white, capped ripples

and carrying the fragrance of Confederate Jasmine

that mingled with the smell of wet beaches,

and freshly washed laundry just hung on the clothesline.

A singular moment of spring caught upon a sunlit breeze.

Join our host Victoria as she illustrates the art of the Etheree for us for Meeting the Bar at dVerse Poets


Mira and I love to go on “adventures.”
A neighbor gave us a standing invitation
to visit her backyard pond and
feed the fish and turtles that reside there.
Giant green bamboo greets us.
Mud turtles and koi vie with tilapia
for our breadcrumbs.

Photos by Gayle Walters Rose; All Rights Reserved

Grace is our host for Quadrille Monday where we write an entire poem in exactly 44 words using the word “green.” Meet us at dVerse for the fun!


Photo from WordPress; The Daily Post

You’re coiled tighter
and tighter as you
descend in a pattern
which mirrors a nautilus.
Your polished marble
stairs mimic its
hollowed cavities.

Photo Public Domain; Chambered Nautilus
It’s tiny pinpoint
eye scans its world
through a blur of depth.
Propelling its pearly,
iridescent casing
much like
a stairway,
it forages
for bits of
and searches
for a mate.
Internal spirals
create perfect
and jet
to move
You emulate
a staircase
that winds
and around
guiding us

Join us today for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets today at 3PM EST!  Choose any ONE poem to share.

The Battle of Puebla

This day starts like any other as if
not knowing what transpired this
triumphant, historical day in May. Is
the victory over France ours or your(s)?
Why do you celebrate as if it’s your birthday?
You Americans will take any excuse to party and
carry on. This is not even a holiday for us; you
don’t take a moment to consider what are
our thoughts. The Battle of Puebla left many dead,
but we are thankful that we prevailed.  Do
you want to rejoice with us? Then join as we
observe our independence in September and stay
by our side in honor of the voices that went silent
throughout our history to bring us freedom . As
we mark that date with festivals, we entertain the
gatherings in joy and a sheet
gently spreads over us with gratitude.  You
are invited to share as we remember those who died
so that we now live in liberty, and out from under.

Click here to see where my inspiration came from for the prompt today:  PBS’s Weekly Poem for May 7, 2012 by Naomi Shihab Nye “Cinco de Mayo”

De is our host at dVerse’s Meeting the Bar and shares a poetic form called The Golden Shovel.  Come by and see her instructions on this interesting prompt!

Dried Sky


Photo used by permission by Mish; All Rights Reserved

Dried sky looks
down on dusty
river bed.
My feet scuff
along and kick
up tiny, grey
Those cumulus
off in the distance
are mere mirages.
They look like
could rain from
them but nothing
much ever does.
No, don’t bother
looking to the
heavens for
respite from
this parchment
paper landscape.
This is the way
of these parts.
It looks like what
I imagine a barren,
faraway planet might
mimic…a panorama
of desolation.
What alien life-
forms can survive
such harsh elements?
Only the most
attuned who can see
how life can thrive
within this perfect
balance and those
who don’t waste
precious resources.

Join us at dVerse Poets with our host Mish who inspires us to write on the Southwest.

Best Friends


Photo Public Domain; Bing Images

I was on my way to my
friend Patsy’s house
and my favorite mode
of locomotion seemed
to be skipping. It was
such a joyful way to
get from A to B.
She and I liked to skip
rope too…holding hands
and giggling wildly.

Toni is our host for Quadrille Monday where we write an entire poem in exactly 44 words and use the word “skip” or any variant.  Come join our fun!  dVerse will open its doors at 3PM EST.

The River’s Path; a Chōka

with eyes gently closed
third eye streaming energy
I feel the river
my mind loose and free, follows
its path, moves downstream
flow is effortless and calm
eddy of water
catches twigs, leaves and debris
trapped but not knowing struggle
they dislodge and float onward
all moves as it should
no tension is inherent
nothing impedes its
progress, even whilst frozen

Join us at dVerse Poets for Open Link Night beginning on Thursday at 3PM EST with our host Victoria.  Pick any one poem of your choosing!

Vintage Lace


Photo by Susan Judd used by permission; All Rights Reserved

During a budding spring day, hiking among the scrub along a trail in one of our nature preserves nearby, I realized I was seeing the vestiges of winter even though her presence had been mild and rainy this season. Browned, brittle leaves covered the path and beyond.  Small twigs and limbs had been shed from the surrounding live oaks most likely resulting from one of our blustery storms that had blown through.  Some of the leaves were just beginning their renewal on the trees after being dormant through our short winter.

And as I further scanned the forest floor my eye caught a most delicate and fragile creation. I had seen these before and I’ve always been struck by the intricate, lacy designs left after a leaf or flower has disintegrated during its natural decline.  Nothing had yet destroyed its beauty in this frail state.  Yes, beauty was present even in this advanced stage of transformation.

nature in constant
flux, beginnings and endings
snapshots of beauty

Join us at dVerse Poets as we enjoy another Haibun Monday with Susan Judd as our guest co-host with Bjorn where she shares her wonderful photography as inspiration.

Paisley Park

It rained last night at Paisley Park,
tears fell too when the lightning struck.
Your time cut short, too quickly plucked,
a Princely man whose life went dark.
You colored us purple in stark
relief of the grief we’re feeling–
colorless, bleak, muted keening.
You reigned supreme, a gentle soul
of brilliant talent, eyes of coal.
It rained last night at Paisley Park.

Join me at dVerse Poets as we learn the decima, a Latin American form.

Lineage of Pain

You were easy to vilify
with your detached and selfish ways
and your clenched jaw and eyes ablaze,
but your life was your own deny,
Dad.   Years of pain were amplified
by you; no soft place was offered.
But my worth totally shattered
because you also had been hurt
by a man detached, cold and curt,
alone where no love was proffered.

Join me at dVerse Poets for Meeting the Bar, Thursday 3PM EST where we try a Latin American poetry form called the décima.


Out on the back nine,
just about to the last
hole, I felt a twinge
in my back. I’m sure
that last vigorous
twist I made to send
my ball flying down
the fairway did more
than I bargained for.
Sciatica pain for weeks…

Join Grace as she hosts our seventh Quadrille prompt to use the word “twist” and a word count of exactly 44 words…no more or less at dVerse Poets.  The link is open all week.


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