There’s no where to run, I continue to say
It’s not that kind of beach, too short, too steep to bother
Just try anyway, he insisted this day, try anyway
So I lace up my shoes and trot towards the water

In a brilliant sky day the ocean churns a low crash
Rutted deep sand seems to flatten ahead
Crabs scurry side step to clear my foot path
Keeping close watch from eyes atop of their heads

Haleakala before me and I at her feet
Her crown of ringed clouds guarding her crest
To my right easing surf in glass turquoise retreat
Banyan trees border the sand in wide arch on my left

A fortuitous sight, this must be a good sign
Leather belt bound with buckle weather beaten and strong
Sandy trophy for running wherever I find
The narrow beach curves then streches out miles long

No pack on my back, no bottle in hand
Just this smooth shell I rub between forefinger and thumb
Keeping a beat with the tide no earbuds could can
And I am grateful that I agreed to this run

In standing straight form ten poles planted in line
Their master casters crawl from low slung pitched tents
I duck my head beneath invisible filament line
That cross over the beach to the water’s clear depths

Three miles in buildings first enter my view
Yoga and crossfit pilates right there in the surf
I turn and head back salty sweat beginning to stew
And then there’s my husband an impromptu water stop crew

Again I am gone, a white lab sharing my gait
’till he turns  runs headlong into slow crashing surf
Chasing a fantom ball because he can’t wait
For the real one hidden deep in his keeper’s shirt

Long sweeping waves extend their greedy grasp
Poseiden reclaimig this portion of land
While pipers pipe piping he takes without ask
Narrowing even further this slender strip of sand

And I, I feel blessed, this day in this sand
For a the shore, these shoes and this life
But more for a man who loves me just as I am
And for this day long ago when I became his wife.

I’m a few days behind this year. This prompt was from Day 7 for the NaPoWriMo challenge. The challenge was to write a poem about luck and fortuitousness.

My Air BnB Host

Granny, scattered curls gray spilling at the door
That welcome, let-me-show-you-to-your-room look
Do you need another blanket? Something more? Sleep well then
Lady of the house

Warrior, armed priestess charging with a cause
Steeling aim, one strike swipes insects buzz midair
Inspects intruder pinched within her claws. Sleep well then
Lady of the house

Mountains, purple silhouette against a broken dream
Canvass colors stroked with heavy handed heart
Oils, brushes in half baked easel scene. Sleep well then
Lady of the house

St. Pauli Girls stand chilled, ready for a dance
Dead soldiers await cremate recycle across the countertop
Clink, clink when cubes are dropped against a glass. Sleep well then
Lady of the house

Matriarch, portraits in a parent’s proud display
Two sons, two daughters cheese years of Christmas pose
Yet alone you are in double wide with a cat. Sleep well then
Lady of the house

The Day 6 NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a poem that looks at the same thing from various points of view. The most famous poem of this type is probably Wallace Stevens’ “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”. You don’t need to have thirteen ways of looking at something – just a few will do!


Diamonds sparkle glint blue cascade
Builds and crests and rolls
Curling, swirling a timed parade
Tips white with frosted foam
Sunlight blows from the leading edge
A wall of glass below
Shatters crashes in hurling pledge
To wipe out undertow
Then flattens spilling foam again
And soothes my wetted soul

Day fives’s NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a poem that is based in the natural world: it could be about a particular plant, animal, or a particular landscape. But it should be about a slice of the natural world that you have personally experienced and optimally, one that you have experienced often. Try to incorporate specific details while also stating why you find the chosen place or plant/animal meaningful.

Don’t Bother Me

I regret having offended him
Wide eyed dark and buzzed
Had it not been for his brother
His sister, or his mother before
Interuptions at lunch and dinners
swept out on the floor
Red cloth in the woods
Branches cracking beneath the spread
He stood in the ointment before the breaking of bread
I swatted him then, or his father or friend
He frenzied about only playing half dead
Up he sprung like a drunk taking flight
zigging this way and that
And I knew what I’d do
for one moment
if I were a cat
I called instead an old lady I know
Who took just one strike
Then swallowed him whole
I regretted it then
Trading his life for my own comfort care
But I wii sleep better
without his dark stare
Day 4 of the NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a poem with a secret – in other words, a poem with a word or idea or line that it isn’t expressing directly. The poem should function as a sort of riddle, but not necessarily a riddle of the “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” variety. You could choose a word, for example, “yellow,” and make everything in the poem something yellow, but never actually allude to their color. Or perhaps you could closely describe a famous physical location or person without ever mentioning what or who it actually is.

To Live on a Boat

I guess it’s too late to live on boat
In rising seas and changing tides
I guess it’s too late to set a new course
To follow the moon, adrift through the night
I guess it’s too late to live on a boat
Trust in the wind to keep the sails tight
Of course it’s too late let the ocean take hold
To silence the pull of the sea on my soul
It’s too late I know
Too old for new ropes
It’s too late you see
Too late for old goats
I would if I could
I’d live on a boat
I’d live with a sail, the tiller at helm
I’d live with no Facebook, no insurance of health
With salt crusting on the lens of my glass
From repetitive waves on the bow as they crash
It’s too late for me, watch the sun rise above
Let bright orange hues paint my labor of love
It’s too late for me, leave the my anchor of chains
The mortgage, the duties, the keeping up games
It’s too late for boats
Too late for new dreams
To sink or to swim
Is for others it seems
It’s too late for me


Welcome to 2015 Napowrimo Challenge of writing a poem a day for the month of April.  This is the month I exercise my poetry muscle without judgment.  I just write, everyday, and we see what happens.  Today’s early Napowrimo prompt is to write a poem that begins “I guess it’s too late to live on a …….”    I used the early prompt because I was chomping at the bit to get started.  With any luck I’ll be back later today (after my morning run) with another entry for the actual April Fools Day 1 prompt.   Thanks for joining me this month!

Many Lunes Ago

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a Lune, a three-line stanza poem. The first line has three words. The second line has five, and the third line has three. It’s meant to be sing-songy and perhaps end in surprise. So I sat for an hour and wrote many. Over the hour I grew more comfortable with them, and it shows in their progression. However, they remind me a bit of fortune cookies. Which one is your favorite?

When fire glows
Behind the screen it warms
My frozen toes

In dark night
The cat screams to go
Out to pee

It’s lonely here
There’s no one to play
With my toys

The blue lake
Sparkling high in the sky
Binds my view

Sometimes when I’m
Alone inside my dark head
I call you

The wet sand
Squeezing between my cold toes
Shivers me timbers

From my seat
Hanging from a blue kite
I fly high

When baby’s hand
Squeezes around my finger tight
He’s a man

Flowers pop above
The ground of frozen snow
In springtime thaw

At the start
Of a day long race
Things look great

If you find
Yourself at the rainbow’s end
Grab some gold

If you keep
The ground below your feet
You can’t fly

Three things remain
Faith, hope, love; I promise
These for you

Smelly cat smells
Fish from the open can
Who smells now?

The book’s cover
Hides treasures inside its bound
Pages of life

The flower stem
Holds the face of bright
Petals smiling back

Where’s the restroom
I call while running by
To my throne

Besides the rain
The weather is quite nice
For drinking beer

What to do
When life tries to try
Me and you?

There are three
Bears living in my house
Hope they share

Let’s get together
For lunch under the bridge
Bring paper bags

How many times
Have I tried to tell
You to stop

Please don’t shoot
The gun under the bed
It’s too loud

When ships sail
From the safety of port
Lives are changed

Little golden girls
Play hand in hand in
Sandy swept beach

Hooray let’s play
There’s a warm pool drink
Floating your way

Tonight’s the night
We pack and run away
To start again

Knock the knock
Upon the locked wooden door
I’ll answer you

Is it time
To get on with life?
I’m not going.

Practicing my art
On pages blank and white
Makes me write

There are smiles
Across the road of miles
I run today

Shoes laced up
I’m ready to go. Bang
The gun fires

It’s dinner time
Time to clean up and
Leave the dog

Mud pie mess
Across my polka dot dress
I’ll blame you

Get a grip
You’re a hot mess, girlfriend
He’s not yours

If you benefit
From skin of other’s knee
You’re a flee

There’s a house
Quiet at the road’s bend
That grew me

I like Mom
She’s kind, clean and warm
Kinda like home

Sticky buns stick
To my fingers and face
Telling my secret

Birds are chirping
Outside the window’s green view
Making cat stew

A hurricane please
One strong with extra punch
It’s my lunch

American River 50-Mile Charm

Water hump of dromedary
Medical apothecary
Wings of wasp and honey bee
Red bellied newt’s back left knee
Spin and spiral and whirl in space
Deliver me to race first place

Todays prompt from NaPoWriMo was to write a charm. It could be a charm against warts, or against traffic tickets. It could be a charm to bring love, or to bring free pizzas from your local radio station. Since I’m running AR50 in less than 48 hours I decided I could use a charm for the race.