Two Ships



His touch,

timid at first, playful.

His eyes held a merriment,

his laughter concealed a deeper emotion.

Fleeting moments of stolen glances,

subtle traces of a finger on bare skin.

His touch,

evolved from an innocent beginning,

holding an unspoken desire.

His eyes burned into hers.

Currents of electricity,

hearts beating,

breath short.

Lips graze, sparks fly,

accepting a shared yearning.

Moments of complete breathlessness,

hearts skipping a beat.

Sustaining warmth in memories,

torn between desire and reality.

The Gods of fate dealt the cards,

flop, turn,

river pushing against the tides.

Two ships,

pulled apart by the current,

sailing around the world,

hoping the movement of the ocean

will make them collide once again.


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Flowers – 100 Word Song


You cried,

enduring pain for me,

loving me with never having met me

and I felt blessed.

You stood,

hands on your hips,

a whimsical smile on your face

and I felt anchored.

You embraced,

you wiped my tears,

you listened and never interrupted

 and I felt understood.

You watched,

allowing me to make mistakes,

but always there to help me mend

and I felt empowered.


I cried

when you left me.

 In a dream I saw you,

and watched you float.

You hovered,

our eyes met, you waved,

blew me a kiss

and fell into nothing but flowers.



Written for the 100 Word Song over at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.  Go and check it out if you haven’t yet!!  This week’s song is (Nothing But) Flowers by Talking Heads.  I was really missing my mom last night so this jumped into my head today.

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Last Trifecta


A chorus of silent voices,

joining in harmony around the globe.

Embracing passion,

creating relationships,

making friends.

We placed a bet on the Trifecta,

wagered everything we had.

We all came in first.



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Written for the last ever Trifecta challenge – 33 words of our own choosing.  It saddens me that the doors to the Trifecta lounge will be closing but I am thankful for the friends I have made in that lounge.  Thank you to the creators of Trifecta for giving us the opportunity to hone our skills and choose our words wisely.  And thank you for creating a community that will live on in our newly developed friendships.

Is there a right way to write?


When I began to really delve into writing poetry and short stories I was more comfortable writing in long hand.  It freed my mind to truly compose the ideas, the rhymes and the drama, and felt much more like a natural flow from brain to hand to ink to paper.  The archaic version of computers we had at that point did not lend much ease in the writing experience since it was a behemoth that was no more moveable than my car.

In the bygone days of my youth (I make myself sound 100 years old), when I began to read voraciously, I would always have a pen and paper handy to write down any words I found challenging and words that I was excited to use in my writing.  It went on for pages.  I still have those pages and, although they are now collecting dust in a storage bin, they still remind me of my hunger for words.  My hunger now is much more easily satiated.  With the ease of Google, on-line dictionaries and thesauruses I no longer have to put the word to paper and look it up in a bound, hard-cover dictionary.  I even have a dictionary in my Kindle should the need arise to define a foreign word.

Nowadays, I’m sure a chimpanzee would have much more success with that foreign writing object we call a pen.  I used to have beautiful handwriting and now the things that come out of the pen slightly resemble a modified version of shorthand.  (It would be far more beneficial for me if it were shorthand since I currently have no clue what I’ve written!)


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With the ease of the digital age I use a voice recorder if I am overcome with inspiration.  Random thoughts that used to be scribbled on scraps of paper are now stored in my phone for easy access.  My calendar is on my iPhone and so is my shopping list.  Even with my creative stream, that long steady flow of blue ink has been replaced by the gentle tapping of the keyboard on my laptop.  I have finally been able to train my mind to tune out the incessant clicking and it no longer derails my train of thought.

What do you do?  Do you still give the ink a chance or are you a slave to your keyboard?

Friends around the globe


We, as writers, spend countless minutes and hours at our keyboards, grinding stories until they are made into the finest powder we can create, to put stories to a page that we can only hope many eyes will see.  We toil with adjectives and adverbs, we argue with grammar and punctuation and we stress ourselves with synonyms.  We fret over story lines and we mold characters into strange and exciting people.

Each time that star or conversation bubble appears we anxiously look to see who has taken the time to like our work and comment on the words we have strung together.  With those comments we create relationships that span cities, countries, even continents and forge a bond that may always remain digital.  We share in each others joys and triumphs and we offer words of encouragement through the tough times.  We become friends.

I have come to realize the irrefutable truth in this phenomenon over the last week.  So many of you have reached out to offer condolences and words of sympathy and it has meant more to me than my words can express.  I truly appreciate the depth of the relationships we have created in this literary and photographic world and thank you for each virtual hug, each word of encouragement and each expression of love.  You are a tremendously special group of friends and I thank you.

You better run – 100 word song


You came unannounced.  You stealthily crept into my head and strategically built your wall in the darkest confines where I couldn’t see you.  Like a thief, you stole my ideas.  You banished any character from entering my thought process and you murdered my will to write.

But I’m on to you.  I’ve seen the ugliness in your soul.  Your darkness is no match for the light that words provide.  My will to create is much stronger than your effort to suppress my creativity.

I enter each day more prepared than the next.  If I see you again, you better run.


Written for the 100-Word-Song challenge at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.   This week’s song – You Better Run by Pat Benatar.

Did you hear what I hear?


So, the beginning of the subject line is a slight deviation from a Christmas song…but it is appropriate on more than one level.  For those of you who love Romantic Mondays as much as I do, I am channeling my inner high school geek and perpetuating a rumor that has piqued my curiosity.

Romantic Monday will breathe life once again this coming Monday, December 16th, or so I have heard and am hoping.  For those of you acquainted with this special day, I hope the holiday romantic in you will join me in making sure this rumor comes to life!  Be sure to stalk Edward Hotspur and let’s make this rumor a reality.

Merry Romancemas!!

Unspoken words


The way your eyes look into mine is unfair.

You hold me in your gaze.

You see me.  You see into me.

Your eyes travel the contour of my face and rest on my smile.

Your eyes know every wrinkle around my eyes.

Your eyes know the emotion in every facial expression I have.

Your eyes know me.

But it isn’t fair.

Your eyes will never be able to look outward with mine,

they will never be able to look towards a future together.


For as much as we are drawn together,

the vision in your reality keeps us apart.

But your eyes continue to speak to me,

volumes of implied feelings are expressed with each blink.

My eyes read those thoughts and answer back.

The emotion in our unspoken words is palpable.

Hold me in your gaze for a while longer.

Hold me there forever.


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Twas the night before Christmas – blog edition


Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the blogs
Edward Hotspur had his bacon, Angie’s Grapevine had her dogs.
The synonyms were used by Honie Briggs with care,
And Homesick and Heartstruck, her feelings she would share.

The Jiggly Bits was nestled all snug amongst her words,
While Sethsnap had artistic visions and took pictures of the birds.
Sage Doyle was getting poetic, authoring memorable quips,
While 40 is the new 13 was creating, snacking on her chips.

Le Clown’s newest blog had created such a clatter,
And 25toFly’s  comments only added to the chatter.
Away to the keyboard The Daily Post flew on its quest,
Tore open the gates of creativity and posted its newest contest.

The reviews from Rick Mallery let us all know,
About the masterful words of Dianne Gray, written from below. (well, Down Under, but it didn’t rhyme)
When, what to Fear No Weebles eyes should appear,
Ned’s Blog, in all its glory, showing no WordPress fear.

With a well-versed writer, so lively and torn,
I knew in a moment it must be Girl of The Corn.
More majestic than eagles the stanzas were put,
And I knew in a heartbeat, El Guapo was afoot.

“Now Janna! now Gibberish! now Notebook and Leash!
On, Bjorn! On, Campari and Sofa! on, Cliche! (not pronounced properly, but go with it)
To the top of the Fresh Press! to the top of the wall!
Now write away! Write away! Write away all!”

As Rarasaur roars before the wild hurricanes fly,
When they meet with a Creative Liar, and mount to the sky.
So up to the Matticus Kingdom they flew,
With Trifecta Writing and a Writer Fellow too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in my Realm,
The Ambling and Rambling of TwinDaddy at the helm.
As I closed my keyboard, and was winding it down,
Unawarebutunderlined was making a sound.

Jill Weatherholt spoke with a great deal of fervor,
And words were carefully crafted by The Mercenary Researcher.
A bundle of phrases HastyWords took from her stack,
And Shouts from the Abyss, the words he attacked.

With their keyboards they created with zest and with zeal,
They wrote just as passionately as brunch for every meal!
It was Apoplectic Apostrophes, the words she did reap,
And, in between writing, they read shrinksarentcheap.

They wrote from their hearts, like it was their favorite job,
And inside of them all lurked a Geeky Book Snob.
The Cutter rambled and wrote to make you think,
While a little Fish of Gold readied with paper and ink.

On The Homefront took a few precious moments to reflect,
While somewhere during Red’s Rants and Raves their writing they did perfect!
They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
Blending a symphony of phrases, responsibilities they would shirk.

The Writer I could be pounded endlessly on the keys,
While My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog kept up the pace with ease.
 You’ve been Hooked had amused us, FortyOneTeen surely did see,
And we quickly lost H.E. Ellis to the feeling of writer’s glee.

Inspiration sprang to its feet, to its words gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like a high powered missile.
But I heard it exclaim, as our brains turned to fog,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good blog!”


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A little witty banter


Small talk is an art form.  It is the informal banter that covers no functional topics of conversation yet seems to fill the void of silence. People generally find dead air uncomfortable and prolonged periods of silence can be unbearable.  Regardless of whether or not we know the person, something compels us to bring up some inane conversation and we generally state some very obvious rhetoric to pass the time.

Small talk is a social skill that some have honed over the years and others struggle with it on a daily basis.  Perfect strangers may feel comfortable enough to talk about things on a more personal level but the bulk of small talk is made up of conversations about things as uninteresting as the weather.  Who knew we all had such an obsession with meteorology?

Depending on where you are when engaging in small talk you can certainly make it more interesting than the state of the atmospheric pressure and relative humidity.  It doesn’t have to become completely personal but you can lift the mood of someone’s day by having an intriguing conversation about something they weren’t planning to discuss with a stranger.

Make the first move and initiate some witty and enlightening repartee that will leave both of you in higher spirits.  Compliments are always welcome and interjecting some kind words into your small talk will go a long way.

Don’t let your cartoon balloon of small talk remain empty.  Fill it with something that will make people think and will allow them to leave your presence with a smile on their face.  Be original and be appealing but most of all keep it simple and honest.  You never know what new connections you could make by starting with an elementary bit of small talk.