Tag Archives: writing poetry

A Very Bossy Poem

27 Jul

Reblogging myself.

It’s nice when you look back over your work several months later and it still looks good to you. It doesn’t always happen, but it’s really nice when you can re-read something of your own and not even slightly cringe.

May all our projects turn out so well.  🙂

Rose's Road

Lucky Ducky

In the middle of the night, I was awakened by a poem forming in my mind.  It would not leave me alone.  So, in self-defense, I wrote it down.  It took several attempts at sleep to get all the stanzas onto paper.  Finally, it seemed that I was done.  But no, by that time I needed to eat something (I had a headache. One of the many warning signals I receive when my blood sugar is low).  Even then, rest did not come.  This poem is demanding to be read by many, and would not let me go until I had promised to put it on my blog.

So here it is.  Let me know what you think of it.

I…am going to take a nap.


Lucky Ducky



Rubber Ducky

You’re so lucky

You get to play

Every day

Morning and night

It’s just so right


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Just Between You, Me, and the Lamp Post

2 Jul

I have a lot of irons in the fire. If I’m not careful I’m going to burn my hand soon.

Working on two blogs, doing the photography for both, writing poetry, and thinking about my novel WIP I Killed Them, Mama (and how I’m going to move forward with a mute muse).

Oh, and attempting to stay on top of the dirty dish epidemic at the D’Andrea household.

“I need another dishpan of hot, soapy water. STAT!”

But through it all, I have a little smile on my face…thinking about my ultra secret project. Yes, I have started work on a hidden series which will be published under a pen name.


What is it about secrets that make them so much fun?

Shhh! It's a Secret!











Hiding in your office or bedroom, pulling out that certain notebook you have squirreled away behind the dusty set of encyclopedias from the early ’80s, or out from under the four stuffed animals that survived your fore into adulthood.

Sitting down into the office chair, or flopping across your bed, you open the first secret you have had from your family since you were a teenager. No one but you knows what you are doing. No one will ever know it was you who penned it.

The happy little flip-flops your stomach turns when you imagine a year in the future when all your friends are raving about this new book by a total unknown. Already feeling the burst of pride and naughty secrecy when you think about quietly depositing those fat checks.

You know in reality that there’s a 900,000,008 to 1 chance that your book will make it to the top of a chart, but who cares about too much ‘reality’ when you are in your dream world of  ‘I’m going to make it to the top, and not even my sister will know it’s actually my work.’

In the end, I may or may not eventually let everyone know what the project is, but for now I am having a lot of fun having a super secret note book again.


Do you like the occasional secret, or does having something hidden give you heartburn?

Have you ever had a secret project?

Did you manage to complete it? If so, how did it turn out?