life’s pilgrimage


weary traveler

lift eyes to refresh long view

walk the narrow way



Road to Santiago – image from CDHK

feminism revisited


women who inspire

model nurturing spirit

sacrificial love

for sake of needier ones

thus contribute to own growth


See Ramblings of a Writer  for the Weekly Tanka Prompt:  “Inspire & Growth”.

inexorable time

In response to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai “Road to Santiago” word:  time


where will journey lead?

wisdom contemplates life’s end

we return to dust


photo by lynn – Floyd Cemetery, Sioux City

whispered in forest


breathe clear mountain air

camp beneath whispering

pines listen to nocturnal

noise as whispers of clouds

shadow dance with haloed moon

campfire embers glow while

smoke-curl whispers spiral up

i welcome irresistible tickle

when you whisper soft into ear

warm touch overwhelms words


Joining De and dVerse Poets at the pub for a round of quadrilles…

leave it all behind



hiking boots and stick

take bold step, do not look back

leave it all behind

*  *  *

all want happy life!

but not every road leads home

pilgrims will seek truth

consider Jesus, the Way

relation, not religion


January meme at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai is the “Road to Santiago”.

my dust bunny’s bigger


The day you tell your vacuum to “suck it up” but bag’s full to bursting.


An “american sentence” of 17 syllables.  Here’s to a clean new year!

crossing the quadrille

a bridge is a bridge is…

an act of faith

an art of engineering

an avenue of commerce

an advance of connection

a bridge is a bridge is…

an achievement of minds

an arch of triumphs

an arm of invasion

an altar of fire


Tuesday’s theme at dVerse Poetics is “bridge”…let’s play!

the peanuts club

The crawl space of childhood’s basement offered an obvious place for our secret club. We climbed red-bench invitation to reach spool knob and swing open a wide (but very short) plywood door; then clambered up, one-by-one, into our hide-out. Sliding over corrugated cardboard flooring, the first brave soul would pull the string to a single lightbulb. Neighborhood kids formed collaborative huddle amid boxes of empty canning jars and old books. Dark, cobwebbed corners added aura of mystery (not to mention arachnid fear) to our clandestine meetings. With conspiratorial whispers, we’d conduct official club business and ritual passing of candy before breaking out the “Peanuts” board game. Hanging out with Charlie Brown’s gang, we rolled the dice, collected comic character tiles, and took our turns in the “Booby Hatch”.

childhood memories

password protected clubhouse

friendship’s secret code

peace on earth escapes us


photo by lynn


in history’s shadows,

dark curl of demonic horn

prods power-hungry men.

lips curled in sneer,

King Herod of Judea

sealed fate of innocents

in scroll uncurled by

soldiers with bloody spears.

Bethlehem’s baby boys

and toddlers ripped from

warm curl of mama’s arms.


Quadrille (44 word poem) on dVerse Poets prompt of “curl”

beginning shimmers


art by felix gonzales torres

step into unknown

with trusting hope for each day

as new year begins

faith simply believes


shift angle of prism

to see full spectrum of light

adjust focus of camera

to zoom in clear reality

turn dial on radio

to tune in magnificent music


leave childish stubbornness, embrace childlike wonder

leave small expectations, embrace great expectancy


whatever you stand to lose

is already lost to your control

let go of whatever it is

you’re holding with tight grip

open the clenched fist

to receive grace with open hand



photo by lynn

blessings may come in pairs

We were blessed with 2 new grand daughters in May, 2016! 


(for Rebecca Joy)


Oh, precious one

you bring us joy!

Tripled the fun

as sisters alloy.

Mama’s almond eyes

Daddy’s strong chin,

give brightest smiles

our hearts to win.


Dimpled cheek

dark, styled hair

Blessing your sleep

we say a prayer:


If world may break

your heart someday

Held close to Jesus

will you ever stay!

(for Ruth Ellen)

Baby Ruth, we love you, in truth!

Sweet smiles, warm hugs;

you’re our dear “cuddle-bugs”

Deep brown-eyed look is all it took,

our hearts can’t help but melt.

We pray you will stay faithful to faith

of your father and mother;

grace shown your grandparents.

Like biblical Ruth, may you say:

Your God will be my God,

your people my people,

where you stay, I will stay;

Close to Jesus always.

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