Living Generously

I was thinking about the “Our Father” prayer and wrote this.

Give us this day
Gratitude for simply living.
Give us this day
The grace to walk the narrow way
Aright; and to assuage pain’s sting,
A heart of generous giving
Give us, this day.


“We go in different directions down the imperturbable street.” This is the sentence, a line from a poem by Gwendolyn Brooks, that Merril gives us to use for DVerse prosery. Just so you all know, this is fiction, and also I am really not used to writing flash fiction, so go easy on me in the comments!

We meet each other on a sunny day, people bustling down both sides of the sidewalk. We embrace, you and I, my dearest friend. Our lives have gone in various directions since college, yet we have kept in touch, and now I finally get to see you again. After all this time, I still have feelings for you. Maybe if I were more daring, I would say so.

When I see the ring on your left hand, I paste a smile on my face, belying my true feelings. We enjoy the afternoon, but everyone, including you, is oblivious to the turmoil inside my heart. When the afternoon ends, I know this is the closing of a chapter. We go in different directions down the imperturbable street.

Hope Undying

This was inspired by Linda Kruschke’s paint-chip poetry #21. I was also partially inspired by Memorial Day, which was on Monday.

The blue irises of her eyes
Find the looking-glass, and pine
For her Beloved, praying, that
Under a field of poppies he’s not staying:
The nursery which she’s preparing
For their child waiting to be born,
Is a safe place, needs to reassure —
So her soldier’s return is worth waiting for.

Cheerful Coloring

Hoping to spread some cheer with my coloring!

I had to choose between 2 pictures this month, and I continue to color more pictures, as this chapter of staying at home and social distancing is not yet finished. I hope the world is not too chaotic and that things can get back to normal (or better than “normal!”) soon.

Coloring 5_13

Hopelessly Romantic

This week’s quadrille prompt is “fix.” Inspired by true events. *laughs*

She often reads intentions
Which do not exist
In her male friends’ actions:
This hopeless romantic
Might be melted by a smile
Or any surprising kindness,
The distance twixt her daydreams
And the truth being miles.
Her sometimes-silly
Unguarded heart needs to be fixed!

stone artwork
Photo by Pixabay on

This Is How It Will All End

Shared with this week’s Writers’ Pantry, which Sanaa has titled “Birthing Hope.” We didn’t have to write about that topic, but I wanted to mention that because I liked the idea of it. The poem that I wrote was inspired by Linda Kruschke’s paint-chip poetry.

During the golden hour,
World bathed in that wistful
Sheen of happy memories,
I will remember my first kiss
And the first time (at
Homecoming) I wore hot pink lipstick —

I will relax, watching
That admirable sun set,
Sipping chamomile tea and
Drinking memories, knowing
A geode had been my life —
With amethyst crystals inside.

frozen wave against sunlight
Photo by Hernan Pauccara on

Prepare a Place for Hope

This week, Frank challenges us to write a 14-line poem. I was going to write a sonnet but decided to try two Chaucerian stanzas. My poem is inspired by today’s Gospel reading, which is John 14:1-6.

The Lord has said He will prepare a place
And that He will return to take us back,
So that we may live always face to face,
Realizing finally there is no lack
In love, and that there’s safety from attack.
We must wait patiently for His return,
The chaste heart of His bride He will not spurn.

His words were difficult to understand,
Even for His disciples to believe.
In times distressing we look to what’s planned
And know that there is someday a reprieve,
Pure paradise which we will never leave:
There are manifold places there to dwell,
I long for that day when all will be well.

Risking It

This is inspired by this week’s paint-chip poetry prompt. I didn’t write couplets but was inspired by the words:

Wild mushrooms could be delicious,
Or poisonous — how do you know?
It is similar with the mistletoe:
Kiss under it, don’t consume it.

This moment is like a hot potato,
I can’t touch it yet can savor it.
Passion is dangerous, flaming —
But after the fire, an inchworm
Up a sunflower, still will be climbing.


This is for MLMM’s Tale Weaver, “I Remember Once.” I am also sharing it with the Writers’ Pantry. I’m not really sure if it’s done and maybe will add another couplet later.

I remember once, being called Tree Climber,
Based not on ability but on dreams and desire.

I remember once being called Jen-Jen,
A cute moniker from a much-missed friend.

Once recently I was called Ladybug,
Not sure what it means, but it felt like a hug.