Friday, June 8, 2018


Kiesha Shepard at Whispers from the Ridge has our Poetry Friday links today.
Have a beautiful summer day sometime this week!  Looks like rain instead of sun here today! (Whoops!  Sun just peeked through the leaves in the back yard!  Maybe it's a bike day after all!)


"I’m broke,” she said,
And laid in bed.
"I’m sick,” she lied,
And then she cried.

“I can’t do that!
I won’t do this!
Just go away,
And bring back bliss!”

Then as she tumbled
To the floor
And crawled along
To find the door,

She noticed she
Was on her knees,
And knew that someone
Heard her pleas,

Where all along
She should have been
To see her world
Brought right again.

Her smallness, frailties
Her being so

Reminded her that
There’s a force,
A power of
Unending source.

And tapping that
She rose to see
That all was as
It’s meant to be.

No more broken,
No more sick,
No more lies
There is no trick.

“You’re right, you cannot
Do it all
But neither do you
Need to fall.
For there’s a light
And there’s a hand
To help you fight
To help you stand.”

“I’m broke,” she whispered,
“Help me mend.”
“I’m sick,” she murmured,
“But I’ll attend.”

She grasped the light
And saw much more;
She held the hand
To cross the floor,

And all her worries,
All she feared
Dissolved at once
And disappeared.

Once again
The sky was bright
And even stars
Came out at night.

by Donna JT Smith, June 8, 2018

Two more of my poems at GetSparked "Up on the Roof" and "Full Cold Moon".

Thanks, Tabatha!  After reading your comment, I went surfing and found this one, too...enjoy!

Thursday, June 7, 2018

First Spiritual Thursday

This is the first Thursday in June, so the Spiritual Journey Thursday gang meets to think about a variety of topics and how it affects their spiritual life.  This month's topic is Summer.  I tried thinking about this a few times over the past week and a half and nothing really came together in my brain well.  I didn't seem to get a lot of minutes all in one sitting to really meditate upon the theme.  Then I looked up Bible verses with summer in them.  And that is when I began to be able to focus better.

Summer is a promise from God.
Genesis 8:22  While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.

This constancy is promised.  We can count on the cycles of seasons and day and night and that summer will return in an orderly fashion.  We don’t get tricked into spring turning to winter, and then autumn leading into summer.  There are not days without a night between (though at the poles they might be a bit shorter or longer than on other places on Earth…).  God gave us the promise of summer as part of a cycle for as long as the earth keeps spinning and rotating around the sun.

Of the four seasons, summer seems to me to be the one that most resembles Heaven....perpetual summer...though without the humidity, of course.  As beautiful looking as winter can be, it is not “heavenly” or “heaven-sent” to me.  It’s a dormant, cold time, when most things at least appear to be dead... unless you like skiing or other winter sports...
Spring is new birth, and autumn is the harvest before the cold, dormant dead of winter sets in.  Summer is the realized potential of all living things -  which seems heaven-like.  Everything is awake, grown or growing, green or greening, and flourishing.

Summer is our promise,
and our warning to harvest and prepare for the promised winter.


When the butterflies
fly home,
And moths
no longer roam,
Snowflakes spritely 
take their place
upon my face.
Memories of warm
sun spun
as lace
I hold dear today.
For soon I fear
the silvered sands
of beach
between my toes
will slip away
And ocean’s white-capped
will be replaced 
with towering drifts -
the rift between
Summer’s reason
Winter’s treason.
As waves sift footprints
from the sand,
So may the sun
release iced land.
And someday I will
come to know
The endlessness of
 summer's glow.

by Donna JT Smith, 2018

Check out the links at Margaret Simon's Reflections on the Teche for more Summer postings. 

Friday, June 1, 2018

It is Friday...It is June...It is a Blessing

A bit of respite in May

Over the past month... and a bit more... we have had one crisis after another to fill our plates.  They have not sunk us.  They have not taken our joy.  But they have taken great amounts of time, energy,  and prayer.  And I have joked that I need a big platter instead of a plate to hold my portion.  But then I set my plate down, opting not to hold onto it.

I think May deserves a poem to celebrate its ending, its tenacity and its victories.

May Be June

We were clearly tempest tossed
well before May had begun

But as patterns crissed and crossed 
there were signs of more to come.

We smiled despite the cost
as we set our course to run.

Till races nearly lost,
instead turned races won.

Now June arrives all glossed
and we're ready for the sun.

Can May's near-holocaust
be traded for some fun?

by Donna JT Smith - June 1, 2018

Reason to Celebrate

May was great -
Great with trials
and tribulations.

Cannot wait -
Wait for hints
of revelations.

Why that day?
Day requires 
deep inhalations.

In the end,
End rewards
all faithful patience.

by Donna JT Smith, 2018

Not a masterpiece...
but a poem that sums up May for me.

No, two poems for May.  It deserved at least two.

I am not going into the details of all the piles of garbage - but suffice it to say our daughter walked away with only minor injuries after her car struck a tree head-on, totaling it.  And that was a total blessing, setting the perspective straight on all of the rest.

I have not written a posted since May 5th.  I have written a little since then... poems, but for other's been hard to focus on writing, though it certainly was a full month for thoughts, just no time to write them.
GetSparked 37 is underway, and I submitted two inspiration pieces - one poem and one art piece to my exchange partner.  Since May 23 I have worked on 2 pieces: one a watercolor and one a poem as responses to my partner's inspiration pieces I received.
I actually completed two poems for her image.  The first one I completed, then decided to keep it instead of publishing it online.  So I had to create another one.  My second one was a bit fanciful and literal, and I decided to go with that one.  Today is the day for completing the response pieces - which I have done - and we now have the week to submit our work to the website.  I'll let you know when mine gets up there later today - probably tonight.

And now I'm working on Tabatha Yeatt's summer poetry exchanges.  I have 5 poems to write in the next couple of months, so I am beginning the thinking and drafting of my first now.

Poetry Friday is being hosted by Buffy at Buffy's Blog.  Enjoy the twirling seeds of the beginning of summer!

Saturday, May 5, 2018

Rat's Nest Infestation

Rat's Nest Infestation

nothing today
much more than 
to say
not sad
nor depressed
just empty
with each daily issue
no need of a tissue
  i'm okay
some sun
with a twist
of a key could assist
might unwind 
in my mind
this rat's nesting
replace infestation
with pure relaxation
that would be cool
with no one to fool
 and nothing
to say
 i'm really

by Donna JT Smith, ©2018

Sorry to have missed Poetry Friday yesterday, though I did write this.  Good title, huh?

It was a mind busy day.  There have been lots of them lately.  I'm still joyful, and okay.  Just pensively pent up.  So many things I cannot fix for others.  It tears my heart.  I need to let go.  Breathe.

Now, today, I'm out for a bit on my own in SB wanting, waiting, writing for a story to happen.

Wednesday, May 2, 2018

First Spiritual Thursday - Celebrate

What manner of celebration is this?
Today's post is hosted by Violet Nesdoly who is encouraging us to share how we observe or celebrate a special day: Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, a birthday, anniversary...

I'm having trouble with this today.  Is it because often, the actual date for the even and our celebration do not occur on the same day?  I began to think about my conversation with my daughter about how it is not important that you see the person on that special day, as much as you celebrate with them when you ARE with them.

With families spread over miles and years, it has been difficult to keep things rounded up neatly to do what is expected in the expected time frame.  But as Christmas is not really December 25, and Easter doesn't have a set date... why do we care?  The important thing is that we DO care, just not that it has to be some particular day.

I celebrate every day the fact that I gave birth to two wonderful children.  I celebrate the fact that my husband was born, and that I was, too!  The dates are not the important thing to me, so we sometimes wait until it is convenient to make the more "public" celebration when it fits.

There are so many ways that I find joy and celebrate, that I actually find regular days to be more celebratory than an actual special day.  I'm feeling at a loss with this topic today.  Maybe it is the personal intricacies and complications lately, that make me feel empty headed right this moment.  Let me try a poem instead and see what comes of it.


I treasure ordinary moments
much more than special days
I want to make the most of all
avoiding hype and craze;
 I breathe in deeply when I see
the ocean or a tree
I look around and see the birds
and marvel how they're free
no cares, no need
to send a card
no deeds
beyond the yard
There's nothing in 
the nest to wrap
Nothing to state
 they're late for hap
A calendar does not exist
with anniversary, birthday list...
I smile to watch
the sun go down
and stretch on rise again
I stare at stars and peek at moon
while picking up my pen
to write a note, a word
or two and buy some Christmas gifts -
but "Look!" there snow that's piling up
where drafts blow making drifts
Then I want to stay inside
and watch it for a while
Or maybe go outside a bit
and build a snowman's smile 
Can anything be better than the
family gathered round?
Who needs to have a reason
for love and joy's surround?
Give me the dew, the frost, the rain
Give me a grandchild's laughter
And I will be happy celebrating
Well into the hereafter. 

by Donna JT Smith, 5/3/2018

Okay that's what came out. Maybe I'll read it!  Then perhaps I'll edit it someday, or maybe add to it.  But I THINK that addresses how I'm feeling right now, if it doesn't address the actual topic.  I apologize.  God's goodness is so finely wrapped around my life and my surroundings that I have trouble sometimes isolating the spots.  And we just don't put much emphasis on celebrations.  We are not organizers of fun.  Fun just is.  Goodness, that just made me smile!  Fun just is.  Celebrations are all around all the time.  Well, if this didn't speak to the topic or to you, it is A-Ohhh-Kay! because it was another little celebration for me all on its own! LOL!
You have a great day!  I'm gonna have me another great day!

Yesterday we celebrated 80+ degrees in Maine by taking the motorcycle for it's first to the beach!  Hopefully, tomorrow my husband will be on his bike, too.


May 1 Day 1

Yesterday we drove down the road to the beach.  It was a spectacular afternoon, and just the right air to clear the head of all that was cluttering and muddling thoughts.

Shadows of Roses to Come

As breezes blow
They take the snows
Crisp shadows grow -
Slow by rows
The full of green
begins to show
Till soon
the sweet
 of roses.

by Donna JT Smith, 5/2/2018

Tuesday, May 1, 2018

It is May


I've always liked the sound of that.  Short.  Rhymes with lots of words...even ballet and buffet; José and olé; relay and ándale...just to name a few of the less used ones.

It's a long month - one that finally, in Maine anyway, gives us the spring we were hoping to see - the one that everyone else has been exclaiming over for two months now it seems.

Ah, May.  I have created a tissue art on canvas for today.  May Day.  I remember when we used to make a May basket and filled it with Mayflowers that we picked, then hung it on a doorknob, knocked and ran away.  If the recipient caught you they could hug you and give you a kiss.  I guess, depending on whose doorknob you hung it, you would either run quickly or slowly.  We were pretty speedy when we hung it on the doorknob at Mrs. Russell's house.  But we'd hide to see her smile!

There will be flowers
I have no doubt,
But when they'll bloom
God figures out.

by Donna JT Smith, 5/1/2018

Sunday, April 29, 2018

Z is for Zuchini and ZaniLa Rhyme

I'm Going to Miss This

It's the last day???
Tomorrow is M-A-Y?????
Where has the time gone?
I'm going to miss this.
Now I'll have to do dishes
and laundry
and comb my hair...
It just won't be
the same
Without a form
to tame.
I'll probably get over it.

This month I have been participating in the A to Z Challenge and incorporating National Poetry Month
by writing a poem each day.
There has also been a poem growing one poet at a time with the Progressive Poem - check out the ending today at Dori Reads.

Today's letter for the AtoZ is Z.  I have spent the past year-ish taking pictures of Maine vanity plates on cars in parking lots in Maine.  This year each poem form also begins with the same letter.  I found 2 Maine vanity plates for today, and chose a ZaniLa Rhyme for ZUCHINI.

The ZaniLa Rhyme, a form created by Laura Lamarca. The rhyme scheme is abcb, with a syllable count 
of 9/7/9/9. Line 3 contains an internal rhyme and is repeated in each odd numbered stanza. 
Even stanzas contain the same line but reversed phrases of internal rhyme. 
It has a minimum of 3 stanzas. 



O, vegetable beneath verdant leaves,
Zucchini so prolific
Amazingly you grow, where I sow -
I guess that’s not so scientific...

Impersonator of cucumber
With very subtle flavor
Where I sow, amazingly you grow,
No green thumb of mine in your favor!

You hide in plain sight in the garden
A bit of a green recluse!
Amazingly you grow, where I sow -
Under cover your number’s profuse.

You start out so smallish and cute
Poof!  Next day you’re gigantic!
Where I sow, amazingly you grow,
By August I’m zucchini frantic!

Next spring I’ll plant tomatoes and corn
No magical zucchini
Amazingly you grow where I sow;
You’re an amazing green Houdini!

by Donna JT Smith © 2012


This one ALMOST made the cut... But zucchini was easier for this format!  But back in 2012 I did write a poem for Z that fits it.  Here is an oldy for the last day of the AtoZ:


Zip zap zing
Who says z's are not the thing
To make a poem sing?
Zombie, zilch, zits
These are just the pits,
But zooming, zesty, zealous
make plainer words
Quite jealous.
And then you always have
The z that's in the middle
Wizard, lizard, drizzle.
Pizza, razzed and fizzle
And if that's not enough, friend
You have them at the end then
Like whiz and fizz and jazz
Which give this poetic spaz
 Some dazzling razzmatazz! 
 © 2012, Donna JT Smith

It has been a fun month of reading and writing!  Thanks to everyone who has visited my blog and special thanks to those who have taken the time to comment.  I do appreciate it!  And immense thanks to those who now follow me.  I hope we can continue to be blogger buddies!  Best of luck in your writing this year!

See you next year Alphabet! 

Friday, April 27, 2018

Y is for YA YA and a Yadu

I am participating in the A to Z Challenge this month, and today's letter is V.
Click here for the list of blogs participating.

I have spent the past year-ish taking pictures of Maine vanity plates when I encountered them - most all in shopping center parking lots.

I am writing a poem for each one, and this year the poem form begins with the same letter.  I found 4 Maine vanity plates for today that begin with Y, and I chose to write a Yadu or Yatu.

The yadu (also spelled ya-du and yatu) is a Burmese form of poetry which consists of up to three stanzas of five lines. The first four lines of a stanza have four syllables each, but the fifth line can have 5, 7, 9 , or 11 syllables. A yadu should contain references to the seasons.
It has a climbing rhyme. The rhyme is on the fourth, third, and second syllables of both the first three lines and the last three lines.






This was not an easy pattern to follow.  I had to keep the format right in front of me for the whole time.  Now it seems not as difficult to remember, but it is hard to keep the flow with this pattern.
It IS done, though!  Yah, yah - ya ya - yeah, yeah, yay!


Almost summah!
Oh, yah, yah, yay!
Not fah, ya know
Till this snowin’
Stops blowin’ and tulips pop!

Then comes the sneeze
Caused by breeze through
The trees and grass;
Pollens pass by
En masse to nasal passage.

Almost summah!
Oh, yah, yah, yay!
Not fah, ya know
To nose blowin’
eyes flowin’ and tissues pop!

by Donna JT Smith, ©2018

These were all fun plates!

I can't believe tomorrow is Z - Z last day of A to Z!

Thursday, April 26, 2018

X is for XLCIOR

It is Poetry Friday, so you can read lots and lots of poems today.  Stop by to check out the links left with our hostess today, Irene Latham, at Live Your Poem.
The Progressive Poem has been "growing and growing", too!  It is nearing its conclusion...
Buffy Silverman has the next line at - Buffy's Blog Go check it out!

I am participating in the A to Z Challenge this month, and today's letter is X.
Click here for the list of blogs participating.
I have spent the past year-ish taking pictures of Maine vanity plates when I encountered them - most all in shopping center parking lots.  I am writing a poem for each one, and this year the poem form begins with the same letter.  I found 1 Maine vanity plate for today, and chose a HexSonnetta - the closest I could come to X for a poem format.

A HexSonnetta has two six-line stanzas and a finishing rhyming couplet.  Its rhyme scheme is
of iambic trimeter per line.  The first stanza is the theme of the poem, with the second stanza changes the tone of the poem, to introduce a new aspect or give added details. The final couplet can be either a summary or the resolution to a problem presented. It should tie together the whole, maybe appear as a “twist” at the end.

I was so excited to find this butterfly to go with my plate!
Callicore excelsior, the superb numberwing or excelsior eighty-eight, is a species of butterfly of the family Nymphalidae. It is found in Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Brazil, and Bolivia.[2]
Adults are black on the upper surface of the wings, with a metallic deep blue sheen on the hindwings, and a broad arc of orange or red on the forewings.

Excelsior - topside

Excelsior - underneath


It flutter-floats forward
on any wispy breeze
any way it pleases
zigging-zagging onward
through the summer upward
clear to the tops of trees

Then ignoring flower
becoming intrusive
seeks salts so elusive
taste for salt or sour
to replenish power -
finds humans condusive.

It's here for a season -
And add to the reason.

by Donna JT Smith, ©2018

*I totally forgot the last line on this stanza.  I had to redo that stanza, even though I liked it as was!  I found more info that I want to incorporate.