Monday, March 31, 2014

Who's Still Awake?

What do I do
when I hear

Go to sleep,
make not a peep.

(I've gone "afowl"
if I hear an owl)

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Good Buddies?

Mrs. Wren makes
her home
on Mr. Saguaro's lapel,
just above his heart.

Her hole mars
his finest
prickled green
pinstripe suit.

Mr. Saguaro spreads
his scarred arms
wide -
starburst tips splayed
like sharply
manicured fingertips
Mrs. Wren,
"I'm not a bird house!"

But she just
past his outstretched
completely ignoring

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Slide Ride

I clambered up the ladder,
rung over rung.
At the tip top
the hot metal stung.

I pushed my body forward,
feet first - zoom!
Off the end I flew
onto my bottom - boom!

Monday, March 24, 2014

Farmyard Fashionista

Elsie was a bovine
of the highest couture.
A fashionista
surrounded by manure.
Elsie's exquisite style
was in a class of its own.
An especially fetching look
was the moo-moo she'd sewn.
Elsie and her moo-moo
started a farmyard craze.
Now from pasture to trough
cows wear moo-moos to graze.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Wild Winds Blow

Deck chairs bang,
wind chimes clang,
wild winds blow.

Bits of grass fly
straight into my eye,
wild winds blow.

Faint burger scent
from the diner's vent,
wild winds blow.

Tresses are stressed,
I've a rooster crest,
wild winds blow.

Dirt in my mouth,
gusts from the south,
wild winds blow.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Monday, March 17, 2014

A Day to Wear Green

Today is the day to don your green.
If you don't, someone just might be mean.

A pinch for those with no green to wear?
Just say you have on green underwear!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Sunday, March 16, 2014

Concert Cattle Call

I'm cramped,
and craning.
My attention span
is waning.

Can not see,
want to leave.
Massive crowds,
my pet peeve.

Friday, March 14, 2014

Mom's Purse

Mom's purse,
full of history.
Mom's purse,
full of mystery:

to do list
body mist

dental floss
lip gloss

hairy mint
clump of lint

hair clip

cell phone
dog's bone

movie stubs
eight of clubs

stale snack
Tic Tac

Mom's purse
full of mystery.
Mom's purse
full of history.

Thursday, March 13, 2014


I touch
and type.
My screen's
my life.

Wi-fi's out,
now off-line.
For screen time
I do pine.

Monday, March 10, 2014

Healing Happens

jagged point
stabs my
leaving me

But in the
something smooth,
can sneak in...


Healing happens
you allow it.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Time to Go to Bed

Eyes watery,
puffy and red.
Wish it was time
to go to bed.

Sitting in Math,
a subject I dread.
Wish it was time
to go to bed.

Late night texting,
should've slept instead.
Wish it was time
to go to bed.

Yawning, dizzy,
throbbing head.
Wish it was time
to go to bed.

"You are dismissed,"
Ms. Tangent said.
Wish it was time
to go to bed.

Final bell rang,
to home I fled.
Wish it was time
to go to bed.

Barely ate dinner,
I feel so dead.
It is now time
to go to bed.


Friday, March 7, 2014

Post Traumatic Cookie Disorder

There’s more of me now
than at the start of the season.
Girl Scout cookies
are the primary reason.

This tasty juncture
has finally ended.
By the final box,
my belt is extended.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Epic Fishing Failure

I hook my pink wiggly bait,
full of hope for dinner's fate.

For a nibble I must wait,
a stock-still bobber isn't great.

My waffled bum from my crate
and the drooping sun mean it's late.

Tonight no fish for my plate,
a fishless meal I really hate.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Learning to Roller Skate

I wobble,
I teeter,
I hug the wall
I'm a cheater.

Four wheels
on each foot,
I roll a ways
and then kaput!

Arms windmilling,
I grasp air and flail. 
But I won't give up -
I refuse to fail.

Slow and slothful -
I step-roll, step-roll.
Instead of skating
I'd rather bowl.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Walk to School

We follow paw prints
along the desert path.
We talk about spelling
and practice for math.

We ponder the prints,
"Dog or coyote?"
Last night's howl
was low and throaty.

We walk a little faster,
we pick up the pace.
When we reach school
we are running a race.

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Rain All Day

It's raining, it's boring,
nothing to do, no exploring.
I cried and I pled,
to play in the shed,
but it leaks when it is pouring.