Category Archives: Essays

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 16 December 2018

It takes work to be an optimist. Especially during the dark months of winter. We light candles, hang twinkling lights, decorate our homes, bake sweets, gather together, give gifts, sing songs. With all this gaiety and joy surrounding us, it’s hard to imagine anyone being sad. But so many people are this time of year.

We expect so much of ourselves and others. Of course this just sets us up for disappointment. And we are entirely too hard on ourselves, in my humble opinion of course. Alright, I’ll be honest with you, I tend to be too hard on myself.

I found a heart shaped lump of snow this week. (True story) It warmed my heart. It made me realize that the most important thing in this world is kindness and yes, love. Not just loving others and being loved. As wonderful as that is, it’s loving oneself that makes all the difference. It’s realizing that I am worthy to be loved, most of all by myself. That little lump of snow reminded me. And I hope you realize it about yourself, too. And don’t be so hard on yourself (I’m saying this to myself most of all). May you find the light that shines inside of you this season of long nights. Have a great week.

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 16 December 2018

clinging to petals, frozen,
dawning amber, silent morn
Ya neva’ know what ya’ might find in its belly
things that stir my soul
nose to the grind stone
soft snores, puppy breath
you’ve signed away every drop
reminding me that love’s everywhere


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.

Twittering Tale #114 – 11 December 2018

About the challenge: Each Tuesday I will provide a photo prompt. Your mission, if you choose to accept the challenge, is to tell a story in 280 characters or less. When you write your tale, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale.

A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at

I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing a new prompt. And if for some reason I missed your entry in the Roundup, as I have occasionally done, please let me know. I want to be sure to include your tale.

Finally, have fun!

And REMEMBER…you have 280 characters (spaces and punctuation included), to tell your tale…and a week to do it. I can’t wait to see what you create this week.

Twittering Tales #112 – The Roundup

Photo by Skeeze at

Starting us off…
“He just stands there, Sheriff.”
“That’s Skip. Ned raised him from a pup. He owned this place ‘fore you all.”
“He’s tame?”
“Got along with Ned. I’ll call the ranger.”
“Wait. Hey Skip!” the wife called. He raced to them, tail wagging. “Guess he just needed an invitation,” she beamed.

279 Characters

By Reena at ReInventions:
But Still…
I don’t know how real, really is reality.
The snow is white and ethereal, but chilling. I want to feel the texture, and see if it melts in the warmth of my palms. But I stay in, for I fear the wolf out there.
It never moves. Some people say a taxidermist kept it there. But still…

(280 characters)

By Ron at Read 4 Fun:
White Walkers are Coming
Going to the Wall there are a few frozen lakes to cross. White Walkers, being essentially skeletons, don’t weigh that much but they can’t risk breaking through the ice. White Walkers don’t swim. (Sounds familiar). Their friend Jack (London) sent me, Buck, ahead to test the ice.
(278 characters)

By The Dark Netizen:
Lone Wolf
I saw him looking at me.
Petrified with fear, I stood rooted in spot. The black wolf took slow steps towards me.
As he neared, i could see his eyes and once I had seem them, all fear began left my body. I had seen those eyes before. They held dark loneliness inside.
Like my eyes…

Character Count: 280

By Kristian at Tales from the Mind of Kristian:
A World of White
The Wolf looked around his territory surprised at the change in the landscape. Something had happened last night to turn everything into a white wonderland. He sniffed disdainfully. The air smelt different.  
The soap factory had exploded, covering the surrounding area in suds.

[278 characters]

By Teresa at The Haunted Wordsmith:
Solitude called to Edward throughout his life. A dream finally realized fifty years ago. A hand-built cabin in the Alaskan wild. Just him and nature. 
A lone wolf – cold, hungry, and tired. Enticed by scents of life and warmth.
Two lost souls, each missing a piece, now complete.


By Di at Pensitivity101:
Lone Wolf
The snow was cold on his feet as he stood silently watching.
He would recognise her anywhere.
In a former life, she had been his soul mate.
She looked up, took stock, and moved tentatively forward, knowing.
Two wolves together,  soul mates of a different kind.

256 characters.

By Hélène at Willow Poetry:
Snow Guide
I was lost in a fresh snow covered expanse. 
By now my friends’ footprints were invisible.
Too quiet around me, no direction to lead me. 
Aware of a lone wolf pawing her path towards me
her friendly grey eyes signal me to come.
Following behind her, she guides forward to my friends.

280 characters 

By J.A. at Keyhole Poetry:
Wolf Therapy
So you DID return, Wolf
I should have known
I recall your kind wisdom
Generosity often
Your therapy room full
Of things fascinating to
Wounded hearts, minds, souls
I still have pastel you coaxed
Me to draw, ‘Journey’
Hope you’d be pleased
How far I’ve come
Good to see you
On crisp winter day

By Melanie at Sparks from a Combustible Mind:
The young wolf had been driven out of the pack for challenging the alpha male.  He wandered, alone, through the deep snows of high winter.    He was an excellent hunter, and he didn’t go hungry.   Still. He wanted a female to start his own pack with. He continued to hunt.
Character Count:   272.

By Anurag at Jagahdilmein:
Proof of the Pudding
I stared at the wolf across the frozen lake as my hand inched towards my gun. Snow in Central Park in mid-July! Who would’ve thunk!
Our beloved leader was a genius after all, as if any further proof was needed. Global warming was ‘Fake News’ indeed!

256 characters.

By Michael at Morpethroad:
Mutual Agreement
The crone left the meat out for the wolf knowing he would arrive soon.
It was a weekly ritual, her way of paying homage to a superior being.
The wolf watched over her, as she aged and slowed she potentially became vulnerable.
It was to both their advantage to care for each other.

By Ramya at And Miles to Go Before I Sleep:
The Wolf
The lone wolf stared at the soft hustle behind the bushes, ready to leap. As the hustle grew louder, the wolf bound towards the bush but stopped midway when he saw someone coming out of it.
The Wolf met Mowgli – the Man cub.

Character Count – 223

By Paula at Light Motifs II:
The Sentinel
The earth rang
From the shores of Mayotte
To the peaks of Chile;
Waves rippled and buzzed,
Traversing the oceans,
Vibrating the plates–
We missed this call.
He didn’t though:
Lupine ears on alert,
Paws stilled in snow.
The moment passed;
He resumed his patrol,
On guard, alone.

By Deb at Twenty Four:
They had passed her by for weeks, not noticing her painstaking work and she had ignored them, applying herself diligently to the task at hand.
Leaning back she smiled as her Father strolled into the room.
“Time to pack up the puzzle Sarah, we need the table for Christmas dinner.”

(278 characters)

By John at Broadsides:
Well hello, little red riding hood! No need for me to pretend to be your grannie is there? not out here. You know, don’t you, how big my teeth are? Anyway, your grannies a gonner now. Tough old chew she was, but you, young sweet thing in your bright red cloak, you going be real tasty.

By Wide-Eyed Wanderer:
The Wolf
The wolf stood staring at the cottage. Lavender had lived there alone since her grandmother’s disappearance. The wolf appeared each evening like it was checking on her. Finally, Lavender went out to the wolf. She met the sapphire blue eyes, “Grandmother?” she whispered.
Character count 275

By Peter at Peter’s Pondering:
A taste of justice
I can see you Henry Roy James, and I know you can see me!
But you don’t recognise me.
You still think you got away with it, but really, you didn’t!
The jury may have believed you, but natural justice shall prevail.
You killed me, and I’m going to kill you.
Then I’m going to eat you!

(279 characters)

Fantastic Round Up everyone! Thank you for joining the challenge last week. For this week, a photo by MabelAmber at It could be a memory, a story of friendship, a mystery or a game. Tell the tale of these two kids or perhaps the tale of the old tree…in 280 characters or less. And I’ll see you at the Round Up next week! Have fun!

Photo by MabelAmber at
The Old Wolf Tree

Eyes twinkling, Granny whispered, “le’me tell ya’ ‘bout that old wolf tree. My great granny Nell planted it long, long time ago. Ya neva’ know what ya’ might find in its belly. Once I found a family of faeries!”

Of course the boys had to check it out for themselves. Wouldn’t you?

(279 Characters)

Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 9 December 2018

Happy Sunday. Today was a sleepy snow day. I love the hush of a deep snow. We had about a foot of the white stuff. No street sounds, just the gentle puff of fluffy flakes hitting the ground.

Progressives in this country have been likened to snowflakes. I’m not sure why. It’s considered an insult. Perhaps because snowflakes seem fragile, easily melting if they hit something warm. But when the air is frigid and the ground is hard and cold, snowflakes don’t melt. They band together, and together snowflakes are a force to be reckoned with. The usual routine of the day is interrupted, the roads become impassable, schools and businesses close and the hard work of digging out begins.

When I think about snowflakes I’m not much bothered by the petty name calling of haters. I’ve seen what snowflakes can do when they band together. Beautiful snowflakes. Power does not always need to be fierce to make an impact.

If you’re a snowflake, know that you are not alone. Together we are not only beautiful to see, but a force to reckon with. And btw…each snowflake is unique too. Just like you.

Have a great week. ❄️❄️❄️

Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 9 December 2018

useless escape key
beyond their gilded gate
I’ve been losing parts of me
just needed an invitation
you only see
drip by dirty drop
‘round your beating heart
sense of urgency is code
things I can’t recall
that fire in one’s belly


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 2 December 2018

In the stillness of late autumn, hearths crackle softly, teapots whistle, pots of soup simmer on low, and the sweet smell of baked goods lingers in the air, as the nights grow long. Winter is coming. It is a magical time of family gatherings, celebrations, sparkling lights and the exchanging of gifts. A time when we learn how lovely it is to give. We learn how to graciously receive. Or at least we try to. Most of us need a little work on that part.

So, this final month of 2018, as we remember the passing year and store up hope for the coming one, let there be no regret, but rather a gentle acceptance of days gone by; the good and the bad. May we gift ourselves with compassion, forgiveness and love. January symbolically represents a clean slate. My wish for all of us is love, peace and joy. It’s sounds a bit cliché, I know. But I can dream. I still do.

Have a great week.

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 2 December 2018

dawn’s chorus erupting
I keep my dreams close
all those years ago
it was all smoke and tears
wasting my time
a lifetime is short, as seasons go
wish I could look away
whisp’ring prayers, their souls to keep
street lamps humming low
pluck soft petals one by one


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 25 November 2018

It’s so very convenient to “not go there”, especially for the milk spillers, who would rather not be reminded of the souring pool of curdling mess that they’ve wrought by their carelessness. I’m talking religion and politics of course. Oh…you didn’t know? I’m quite good at hiding behind symbolism, metaphors, and allegories. I sometimes speak in code, or not at all, simply blinking, curling a lip or rolling my eyes.

Mostly I stayed silent, happy to be invited to the party. I followed the rules. Talked about the weather and … the weather, but they knew. They always knew I wasn’t one of them. They tolerated me because, well, because I was their mother.

And then they helped to elect a monster. A monster who has ushered in a vile reign of greed, bigotry, misogyny and hate. We live in a world now, where anything goes, where there is no truth because everything is fake. “Don’t believe what you think you see, believe only me,” he spews, and they lap up his drivel like honey. They’ve closed ranks, put up a wall, drawn a line in the sand and think nothing of challenging anyone who dares question why or how they could support such a monster. They think nothing of shunning those who can’t stomach the madness, just get along, stop talking politics ever, even when they’re not around, unfriending, disowning, even their own mother…

Sorry for the rant. If you read me, you know you can expect messy, raw honesty. It’s been two years since I’ve been invited to share Thanksgiving with all my children, and consequently, my grandchildren. Two years since my oldest and second born have spoken to me. Two years of missed birthdays, missed graduations, missed milestones. My youngest two still speak to me, as long as I follow the rules. As long as I don’t mention the spilt milk souring in the corner. As long as I behave, I am allowed to see them. We talk recipes and the weather, global warming aside. I know better than to go there. I know better.

We just celebrated the first of a string of holidays here in the US. Thanksgiving was this past Thursday. Soon comes Christmas and New Years…then the birthdays roll ‘round, Mother’s Day, graduations, summer holidays. Two years ago was the last holiday they tolerated me. Last year they didn’t. And this year, I expect nothing.

I know the price of speaking the truth. I know the dear cost of honesty. These days I’m learning to let go. These days I’m rediscovering myself; figuring out who I am after decades of being a mother, and a grandmother to eight; five of whom I may never see again. I’ll always be those things, but I am more. These days I’m learning how strong I am. These days I’m learning how precious life is no matter the heartache.

I love the rain. It’s raining today. A perfect day to bake a cake, to write poetry, to forgive myself my faults, and to be at peace, having let go of expectations. When I do that, even the smallest thing is a gift. This week of being thankful finds me thankful still. Yes, I am thankful.

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 25 November 2018

don’t expect too much
lay them down, down
this mid-autumn night
things like, ‘I love you’
I’m not listening. La, la, la!!!
I made a wish one rainy day
haunted by time’s tocking tick
to know, in a moment’s glance,
in the star dappled void of night
she glows ever bright
turning bare branches dark
to disagree won’t do when truth’s at stake


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.

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