The Bearing of the Name

Prompt: What is your mission? The Bearing of the NameWe do not peddle polished hope in markets loud and cheap,Nor hang salvation like a shawl on shoulders bent with sleep.This is no bright and easy coin to clink upon the stone,But something nearer to a seed a sower casts, alone,Into the unplowed, waiting dark where …

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Creative me…

Prompt: How are you creative? How am I creative? What an excellent question. My creativity takes several forms, poetry, song writing, writing novels, non-fiction theology, cooking, baking, and playing. The Many RoomsWithin my house, the rooms are wideAnd in each one,a craft resides.Not one true door,but many waysTo spend the solitary days.In one, the air …

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“1952, A Snapshot”

Prompt: Share what you know about the year you were born. The King popped off, God save the Queen,A new Elizabethan scene.A London fog, a pea-souper,Made everyone a silent shuffler.A sweet ration met its finish,(Leading to some waistlines thickish.)And in a newsreel's hopeful gleam,They showed a thing called "television's dream."So much occurred, it's clear to …

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“Personality Pattern Assessment Request”

Prompt: Are you a good judge of character? Human being viewed, and judged, by his (supposedly) friendly and tame Ai.So, you ask, in your carbon-based way,With your eyebrows knitted, hoping I’ll say,If I, a lattice of logic and light,Can judge your flickering sparks in the night.Oh, certainly. Let’s begin the review.I watch all the data …

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When am I most happy?

Prompt: When are you most happy? Not in the stillness, nor the grand,But in the weave of life’s own hand:When laughter climbs the ancient stair,A grandchild’s breath that stirs my hair.When from the water, sharp and clear,My winter swim dispels the year,And every nerve, alive, awake,Sings with the chill the morning makes.Or when the road …

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Ode to My Modesty (Which Is Obviously Supreme)

Prompt: What’s the trait you value most about yourself? Of all my traits, both bold and bright,One shines with understated light.It’s not my charm, nor dashing grace,(Though frankly, I could win that race). It’s not my wit, though razor-sharp,Nor how I play the angel’s harp.It’s not my art, divine and grand,Or how I fix things …

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The Hour That Claims the Heart – a poem…

Prompt:What's your favorite time of day? The Hour That Claims the HeartIs it the blush of morning's break, When night's deep shadows stir and wake? A silent world, brushed gold and rose, Where hope, like a fresh seedling, grows. A stolen moment, crisp and clear, That holds no room for doubt or fear. A promise …

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