Blurred Lines

Watering my flowers.

no watering another woman’s flowers

Looking at our garden.

no looking at her newly bought bounty

Moving blurs the lines

some things stay here to be hers

We built this place up

will she get to know the land and birds

Fed the birds, the toads and frogs

God let her be good to the wild things!

I’ll miss this place, our first home.

I prayed for her to find it, she did.

Lines are blurred for me.

will she know the love here?

or is it just the tears in my eyes?


Selling our home, our ranch, is an interesting experience.  I was watering flowers the other night and thought, “I’m watering another woman’s flowers.” and then the poem was born of that.

Good enough

Measure yourself against no other but your self.

Do you best. Really try. You can do it.  You can.

That is offensive.  You shouldn’t try so hard.


Each thing you learn prepares you to learn more.

Don’t give up.  Keep trying.  Just one more time.

Everyone should be rewarded for being there.


Excellence comes from dedication and passion.

Believe in you.  Be passionate.  Don’t quit. Ever.

Not your place. Don’t encourage.  Don’t correct.


Encourage each other. Help someone else do well.

Nothing worthwhile comes easy.  That’s okay. Really.

It is okay to be ‘just okay’.  Don’t try too hard.


If you love it enough to do it, love it enough to do it well.

Do your best. Have fun.  Be a good listener.  Help others.

Don’t talk.  You say too much. You are too much.


When you do your best, your best is enough. Shine!

Integrity is who you are when no one is watching.

We, the good enoughs, want you to stop trying.


Be either hot or cold, love it or leave it.  Be more than ‘there’!

Never dial it in.  Be there fully or stay home.

Participation is enough, why do you want more?


There are a few things I am working through tonight (gee can you guess from the above poem?).  In three voices – the middle one more my philosophy, the bold bottom words and thoughts shared with me recently.  I am struggling with wanting to do things well and against those who are happy with mediocre, or ‘good enough’. 


Poem II


I might not be the best you’ve got.

That will always be true.

But you’ll never see a heart

bigger than mine for this!


I may not be the fastest or smartest.

That may too often be true.

But you’ll never see ‘try’

like mine, that is for sure!


I may not win, nor even place.

Time will tell for sure.

But I’ll be there doing my best

every single time for love.


I can’t seem to get off the bench.

The cut I don’t quite make.

But I’ll cheer you all on

no one will be prouder!


What’s this?  I did it! I made it!

Didn’t see that one coming, did they?

No one believed in ‘just one more’

but I did, and it took a few!


Dedicated to my sweet son, and my darling husband.  Love you both.


“Well, yes mate. See, I’m dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It’s the honest ones you need to watch out for, because you never know when they’re going to do something incredibly… stupid.” Captain Jack Sparrow


Miscreant! You. Yes you.

Thought I didn’t know?

Of course I did!  I know you.

After all, it’s not a secret

that I can see through you.

Your honest face hides it well.

Looking innocent and sweet.


Miscreant! Me. Yes me.

Pirate at heart, free spirit.

Thought you knew, but no?

I care not for your rules

and your transparent lies.

Your face looks surprised.

Looking all shocked and ill.


Miscreant! You. Me. All!

Who decides our labels?

Thought you knew. I do!

You give me mine when I

am not what you want.

Your face, oh, what joy.

To see you crumble now.


Miscreant! Jolly good.

I’ll take two, thanks.

With a side of saucy.

And a dash of ‘just me’.

You look so cute, being

all discouraged and blue.

Off the edge of the map.


Miscreant! I like it. It fits.

Your rules don’t suit me.

Neither does your will

to create all square pegs.

Leave us be who don’t fit

yer blasted holes! Let us be.

We be miscreants, proud.


Miscreant! Fly that flag.

Sail those seas, to the edge

of the map where monsters be!

You’ll never catch us

bound up in rules and in law.

Better leave the wildness

to those who truly are – wild.


For With Real Toads, A word with Laurie who chose Miscreant, which works well as I am watching Pirates of the Caribbean with my son and relishing some pirate attitude, sword fighting and general  miscreant adventure and fun!  I’ll never fit in, glad for that I admit.  Who’s gonna join me?

Other Side

Coming through to the other side.

Like walking through a waterfall.

You say doomsday, I say hurray!


Coming through the fire whole.

Like dancing barefoot on coals.

You say no way, I say today!


Changing isn’t easy, light to dark.

Like moving around the sun.

You want to stay, I say no way!


Change is life, doom is in the reading.

Like sunshine after a storm, it passes.

You want to hide away, I go play!


Doom, doom, doom, doom.

Every flower whispers it every fall.

Every spring they are wrong again.


Doom, doom, doom, doom.

Stand tall and face it, have courage!

Have faith for just one more step.


Dance one more song, even if you die.

Sing one more poem, even a line.

Never stop living, treasure that breath!


Doom to boom – isn’t that history?

To be alive, right now, is enough.

To live for tomorrow, is all we need.


For impressionism at dVerse Poets and Doomsday for With Real Toads.

Wedding Dance

We used to dance. All night.

First song to the last song.

Concerts, the bar, in a hay field.

We used to dance. All night.


First song to the last song.

We knew our favorites so well.

Didn’t have to think, just move.

First song to the last song.


We knew our favorites so well.

The songs hold your memory.

I miss the dancing though.m

We knew our favorite so well.


The songs hold your memory.

I see couples dancing together

and I miss dancing with you.

The songs hold your memory.


Was at a wedding dance this weekend, and had a great time.  No doubt about it but I did miss my old dancing partner and friend Kelly.  We really could cut the rug and move the floor!  Miss you Kelly.

Zhuihitsu: Foggy Morning

Blue skies arch over our heads, and yet behind races the storm.

Faster than we think, looming dark, eating blue sky and light.

Safe at home, bringing dogs in between lightning bolts.

Hearts racing as wind blows through open windows.

Low rumble becomes a shattering bang, then light.

Wind, rain, thunder and lightning hammer us.

Rain becomes lighter, nourishing, not hating.

We wake to deep fog, fog that leaves trails

of moisture on the windows and gives

the storm broken trees a sense of

being ghosts as the cattle walk

through to come into the

growing sunlight.

Foggy morning.


For the With Real Toads Challenge, Mr. Linky is not working today, check the comments to find the posts by other amazing poets!