fierce wind

March lioness snowstorm

cattle huddle in corners

lone crow’s rebel caw

plastered ghost tree sentinels

wait stoically for spring thaw

jet setter

the Common Swift is

uncommonly swift &

flies at amazing speeds

higher than high in

azure atmosphere

nary a nap ever needs

from Scandinavia to

to the sub-Sahara,

migrating as it feeds

stays in the air

with nary a care

pausing only to breed.

Screen Shot 2021-03-08 at 8.03.15 PM

image by Carl Bovis, courtesy of Sarah at dVerse poets pub

zansetsu haiku

wet birth of fresh calf

sanctifies muddy season

remaining snow melts

“Zansetsu” is a Japanese kigo that means “remaining snow”… from Frank J. Tassone’s recent prompt at American Hajjin

ralph’s legacy

Like kids acting
like a crowd of kids
got small fire all right,
again that strange mood
of speculation so foreign;
when lit from above or
below–what was a face?

Inarticulate in effort
to express mankind’s
essential illness, living
through circumstances
in which incantation
was powerless to help.

Ground was turned over
near the pig-run and
droppings that steamed
(bent down as if loved them
and sized them up… )
at last, gave up and

Looked back; saw the
white teeth and dim eyes,
the blood—and gaze held by
ancient, inescapable recognition
softly surrounded by a fringe
of inquisitive creatures beneath
the steadfast constellations.

Semicircle of little boys,
bodies streaked with colored clay,
sharp sticks in hands, standing
on beach making no noise at all,
and in the middle, (he) wept
for the end of innocence, the
darkness of man’s heart, and the fall.


A “found poem” constructed entirely of quotes from William Golding’s classic, Lord of the Flies.  A prompt I discovered on Tweetspeak Poetry’s lovely site…I receive a daily poem from them.

power struggle

Link to dVerse Poets where Lisa is hosting…I chose challenge #3 to write a poem using the word “fringe” as my first thought was of the biblical narrative.

on the FRINGE of society

(and personal sanity)

no one hears her/their/our

silent scream in isolation

feeling outcast, unclean,

misunderstood, forgotten.

disappointed by hope of

promised treatments that

didn’t provide any solutions

(no permanent heart change)

no turnaround in health issues

of bad blood, life leaking away


we reach out in bold faith to

seek the impossible miracle

and touch the fringe of HIS

robe to find life energy flow

in wave of wholistic healing—

will we dare answer question:

“WHO touched me?!”

war hero

we assumed
she would die young,
like her sister and her son
who lost battles to asthma

but Aunt Jeanette held her
fight to breathe for 81 years
till leukemia attacked.

Her final orders: “You
better go now before
you make me cry!”



De at dVerse poets pub invites us to write quadrilles (44 words) on the theme: GO


pastel dawn… on ice

winter frosts branches, fence rails

diamonds will sparkle

photo by lynn

conservation conundrum


red, green, silver, gold

symbol of prosperity

chinese dragonfish

raised inside chainlink fence

rare asian arowana

in need of a hug

his familiar embrace… warm, firm, intentional

envelops my core being

reassures my doubtful heart

lightens my mundane mood

raises happy endorphins

shares heady pheromones

sparks dormant emotions

speaks wordless comfort

calms restless thoughts

melts any resistance

husbands my wifeness

my one and only… valentine

Linking to dVerse quadrille (44-word) prompt and Merril’s “embrace”theme…

surf’s up!

roaring down the beach
at the height of winter waves
mist clouds

© Jane Reichhold (1937-2016)

roaring down the beach
dangerous surf erases
beachcombers’ footprints

at the height of winter waves
surfers in wet suits compete
catch wave or wipe out

mist clouds
rise as waves surge against cliffs
salt spray drenches rocks

© Lynn Wielenga (2021)

Link to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai “troiku” challenge to take each line of original haiku and begin a new haiku.

ponderous currents


what do you do
when your parent
becomes your child?

when they’re lost in old
memories and cannot
find their way back to
reality’s present?

how do you map a mind
with its labyrinth of neural
pathways meandering
like tributaries of wild
untame-able river?


My father is suffering from dementia following Covid isolation and oxygen deprivation. 

writer’s blockhead


am i real writer or

perhaps dreamy dabbler?

skilled smithy of words or

unintelligible babbler?

can i complete homework

by end of the week?

my pen, now tongue-tied, can hardly speak!

when i begin online writing class

such baffling questions i myself ask!


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