How Has Travel Affected Me? Easy - Serendipitously.

I know just enough
of the great wide world to see
I've seen quite little. 

I have met so many 
people of different types
but still, small a sample. 

I've lived broadly enough
to understand how narrow 
my experience. 

Traveling expands
the eyes, the mind, and the heart - 
Infinitely open. 

This is #Day18 of the NaBloPoMo, a writing challenge I have joined along with loads of others. You can find them all by checking out the blogrolls at the NanoPoblano and BlogHer buttons below. 

If the Super Moon Wakes You up for Silly Games

This morning we played Peek-a-Boo
with our friend the Moon.
My son and I, giggling softly,
wide-eyed in the quiet room.

Mister Moon slid swiftly
across the Western sky
Ducking behind tall buildings -
I've never seen him be so spry!

"Hey, Moonie, I still see you!"
My Boy called out in glee.
For while he tried to hid his face,
it shone so bright, impossible not to see.

We whispered to each other,
"Do you think he's gone?"
"Perhaps the Moon is tucked in bed?"
"Should we sing a nite-nite song?"

Then just as my Boy finished
singing a lunar lullaby,
Man in Moon, that lunatic,
leaped back out into the sky!

We laughed and cheered, "You got us!"
Genuinely, it was quite a trick.
For one who was larger than life
to be so ninja-like and quick!

Delighted, we snuggled up
my little guy and I,
and bid our friend Mister Moon
a super-sized goodbye.

Turning over on our pillows
we sought return to sleep.
Instead, we spied the Sun's first light
just rising in the East.

They say "it's always darkest..."
But that's not always true.
For this morning, at the break of Dawn,
Mister Moon played Peek-A-Boo

Day 14 of NaBloPoMo! Please join me and all my fellows participating in this month-long writing challenge, by following the links to BlogHer and NanoPoblano below.

I have but one regret: I used to be called Sissy

My mama called me
Sissy in a Southern way
to this day, I miss. 

I protested once: 
Mommy, please don't call me that - 
I spat - I hate it!

In her eyes I saw
She took my words literally 
to heart - like a knife. 

No salve could I find. 
The wound - too deep - persisted
Still pained when she tried. 

My mama called me 
Sissy in a lovely way
I'll forever miss. 

I honestly don't believe in regret, and as I've written, it is my practice not to collect them. 

But if there were one moment in my life I could change, it would be this one. The careless, harsh words of my angsty teenage self could be apologized for. They could be forgiven, but they could never be forgotten.

Perhaps, given another 15 years to work on her, Mom might have been able to call me "Sissy" again without it catching in her throat, half-spoken.

Instead, over a decade after her death, I console myself with my own voice as I call my own daughter "Sissy" nearly every day. 

This is Day 11 of the
National Blog Posting Month challenge.  

somewhere i have never travelled, old chum, you are the best

are your companions 
"in real life" or "virtual?"
grown ups need labels. 


just met? never seen?
children understand a friend
is anyone you love. 

With a more than a nod to my favorite poem by e.e. cummings, I was inspired by my Girl, the friends she makes everywhere with every-thing, as well as this week's prompt from Haiku Horizons. 

Dedicated to all my friends - Many of whom I love dearly, but who might as well live in Narnia for as often as I will see them. 

Who can blame the rose its compulsion to make thorns?

The weary blossoms 

bow their heads to the rain drops,

welcoming the rest. 

The leaves remember 

hopeful buds, bursting with life,

eager in the Sun. 

These fragile beauties

captivate, intoxicate.

They're seasonal hires.

Suffering cut backs,

the greens dig deep to survive

perennially. 

Inspired by numerous photos of these rain soaked rosebushes as well as the last two prompts from Haiku Horizons. 

The Most Important Thing About Raising a Fashion Butterfly

Carefree, style to spare:

match Betsey Johnson's fun frills

to Marc Jacobs' street.

Plaids need stripes, prints too. 

Always rock your leopard spots!

With Love, all things match. 

Inspired by this fearless beauty, who has been making bold style choices since she was (just barely) able to vocalize her strong opinions about the clothes she would certainly would NOT be wearing. As well as this week's prompt from Haiku Horizons. 

Does a Clock Worry When it's Time to Unwind?

Motherhood clockworks:
the balanced pendulum swings 
in constant motion. 

Tug the weights too much
- pendulum energy shifts - 
wrecking ball mood swings. 

Inspired by all the mothers we celebrate this month, the amazing women of Mommitment, as well as this week's prompt from Haiku Horizons. 

Destination: Anywhere in the Middle of Nowhere

Running for the sake 

of wind in my hair, laughing,
like the child I chase.

Pure, simple pleasure:

Able body and free will. 

Such is liberty.

Genie wished for legs
Not only to be his own 
Master, but to run. 

Inspired by my rebellious children, who run away from me with ever-so-much glee, as well as this week's prompt from Haiku Horizons. 

Previously, I mused about running in an entirely different direction. You can read that HERE. 

Mix Equal Parts Faith to Trust, and a Dash of Pixie Dust

Clouds of words floating. 
Thoughts mysteriously joined.
Poem, form thyself.

Ideas in flight! 
Flitting toward bright star light;
Poems are word sprites.

Inspired by these clouds I spotted on Tuesday, as well as this week's prompt from Haiku Horizons.