Writers' Pantry #67 and NaPoWriMo #18

 NaPoWriMo Day #18

Again, my Sunday post for Poets and Storytellers United is from one of the NaPoWriMo prompts.

 Writers' Pantry #67 

The prompt for Day 18 was:

"Write a poem based on the title of one of the chapters from Susan G. Wooldridge’s Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words."

I couldn't pick just one, so I didn't!  The numbers are the chapters in the book, and are followed by the chapter titles.

🌥     🌥     🌥     🌥     🌥     🌥     🌥

39  Who Were You in My Dream? 

Who Were You?


I dreamed

there was a party,

but I couldn’t find you anywhere.

I knew you were there,

for I wouldn’t have dreamed alone.

Strangers grabbed at me,

ripping me from the crowd. 

I was panicking,

thrashing my arms,

kicking my legs.

I woke covered with sweat,

tangled in my duvet.

Who were you in my dream? 

I wouldn’t dream of dreaming without you.

 🖼     🖼     🖼     🖼     🖼     🖼     🖼

40 Collage 




An art form.

Not further education

after high school.

If you can’t spell the difference,

hand back your diploma.

 💔     💔     💔     💔     💔    💔     💔

57 Catching Myself


Catching On 


Who else will catch me

if I don’t catch myself?

There’s no one I trust more.

I trusted you once,

and look where it got me.

🌉     🌉     🌉     🌉     🌉     🌉     🌉

60 The Poem Bridge 


Building Bridges 


What words to build a bridge?

What words to tear it down?

Surely “love,” the keystone

of it all.

Patience the glue when

firmly pressed in place,

the stones, kind words

to last a lifetime.    

🌊     🌊     🌊     🌊     🌊     🌊     🌊 


3  Collecting Words and Creating a Wordpool




Ebbing and flooding.

At any given moment

they’re full or drained of words,

dependent on the waves of inspiration.

Waves bringing words of solace

or sorrow with the tide.

Ebbing and flooding.

Low tide’s words are tranquil, reassuring,

then anxious,

listening for the crash of breakers,

a surge of angry booming phrases,

churning words,

profane flotsam.

Ebbing and flooding.

Reach in, touch the words.

Some may pinch with claws,

others soft, invite you closer.

But, beware…

There are riptides too

in the wordpools.

They pull us under to

drown in our own words. 

 ☹     ☹     ☹     ☹     ☹     ☹     ☹

36 Please Don’t Understand


Please Don't Understand


Please don’t understand

For then my obligation

Will be to remain

 🧦     🧦     🧦     🧦     🧦     🧦     🧦

54 The Blue Socks


The Blue Socks 


These blue socks now have a hole

where my second toe peeks through.

The long toe on my right.

Some said a longer second toe

meant I’d be a nagging wife.

I hope that wasn’t true.

Others called it “a sign of beauty,”

or “intelligence.”

Intelligence is beauty to the wise,

so that’s okay.

These blue socks have seen a lot.

Before the birth of our first born son,

they paced the floor with me in labor.

They rocked our daughter,

then paced again,

when she was late for curfew.

True, they’ve grown thin on the bottom,

as you grew thin on top

(in, need I say? baldness).

But these blue socks outlived you.

How can socks outlive a man?

Now there is a hole.

Like the hole in my life.



Damn blue socks. 

Damn you. 

Damn you for dying and leaving me this hole.



 ©2021 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved


  1. My goodness, so many wonderful poems. Well done and happy April.

    1. Thank you, there were so many great chapter titles to pick from!

  2. These were all wonderful, but my eye (and heart) were caught especially by the last one. I love how it is filled with all the small details of a happy life which impress the enormity of the loss.

    1. Thank you. I think it's often the little things that make the biggest impressions, we get attached to little, inconsequential things.

  3. Replies
    1. I guess it is a bouquet! Some flowers in a bouquet we like better than others, even when we ourselves have arranged the them!

  4. "Collage" made me laugh so insanely loud that I scared the birds outside my window--thank you for that! "Catching On" is bittersweet; it's great to count on oneself, but it would be nice be able to count on others too (guess we can't have everything). "Building Bridges" is delicious, so much hope! The whole series is fantastic. Those three just stuck out for me.

    1. Oh, that word, "collage," I see too often used for college. I am by far a "good speller," but I do see the obvious, common errors. I will admit to being a stickler for grammar! Not to others in comments, or in person, other than once to a fast food chain who had a sign that their "Classic's" were back. I emailed them. No response.
      Thank you for your kind words. When we find someone we can count on, it's a wonderful feeling. Always knowing someone has your back and will be there whenever you need them.

  5. Love the first poem; a very intriguing dream and love the one where words can be bridges, which can be torn down and words become evenmore powerful in the next poem.
    Love how there is a whole story behind a blue sock in the last poem

    1. Thank you for such kind comments, Marja!

  6. What a tour de force! I enjoyed the variety, and perhaps loved the wordpools best – the one with which, I'm sure, all wordsmiths must resonate.

    1. It seems they were like a buffet, each reader picked the bits they liked the best! I'm curious to find out what the chapter in the book for Wordpools was about!

  7. What a great feast of poetry, but I think that "Who were you" was the one I loved the most.

    1. I'm glad you liked it! To the dreamer it seemed so reasonable to ask that question.

  8. These are really good. I especially like the one about the blue socks, and I laughed at the "Collage" one. Very true!

    1. Yeah, that happens so often it's funny, and also makes me want to scream!


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