Congratulations!
Look what we’ve made together.
This month’s writing has been held in generous company. We are deeply grateful to the hosts who offered their time, creativity, and care—opening space for us to think, write, and listen together. These are humble people who ask for nothing in return, and yet this space would not exist without the steady generosity of their time, care, and presence. Our writing is possible because of them, and they have tended to our hearts and minds with such care that their attentive reading has brought joy, steadied us in hard moments, and, in many cases, made space for the poems we needed most to finally come through or never imagined possible. A special thanks to Denise Krebs who has been instrumental in supporting this space during my sabbatical. Thank you to all our hosts:
Leilya Pitre · Melissa · Kim Johnson · Jennifer Guyor Jowett · Wendy Everard · Luke Bensing · Linda Mitchell · Bryan Ripley Crandall · Susan Ahlbrand · Kate Sjostrom · Rita DiCarne · Ann · Mo Daley · Erica Johnson · Stacey Joy · Kratijah · Angie · Stefani Boutlier · Corinne · Sharon Roy · Margaret Simon · Denise Krebs · Scott McCloskey · Ashley Valencia-Pate · Clayton Moon · Dave Wooley · Jessica Sherburn · Barbara Edler · Glenda Funk
Their full introductions and stories can be found here:
https://www.ethicalela.com/before-we-begin-the-people-holding-verselove/
Witnessing the Landscape
Sarah Donovan is a teacher educator and co-founder of Ethical ELA.
Inspiration
Thirty days ago we stepped into this shared landscape with a simple invitation: write. Since then, poems have grown here—thousands of lines written across time zones, classrooms, homes, and quiet corners of the day. Each poem is a small act of courage. Writing does something to us. It slows us down. It asks us to notice, to remember, to question what we thought we knew. Teachers especially carry the weight of stories—our own and those entrusted to us. Today, on the final day of VerseLove, we write not about beginning, but about witness: what we saw, what changed, and what we carry forward from this month of poems.
Process
Take 5-10 minutes to reflect on your VerseLove journey.
- Look back at your poems from this month, or simply think about the experience of writing and reading here. See all 30 prompts here.
- Make a short list:
- something you noticed this month
- something that surprised you
- something you learned about yourself as a writer
- a poem from someone else that stayed with you
- a comment/response from someone else that stayed with you
- Write a poem that begins with the phrase: “After thirty poems…” or whatever number or no number at all (After we stop counting, The last poem is not last, What the month left in me, What keeps humming now, After all the poeming, Nothing ended here).
- Let the poem speak honestly.
It may celebrate, question, grieve, or wonder. - Keep it short—8–12 lines. (Mine is a bit longer.)
Poetry is not about finishing perfectly. It is about noticing how the landscape of our thinking has shifted.
Continue your poetry journey with some verse novels! Our very own Glenda Funk serves on the NCTE Children’s Poetry Awards Committee. Here are a few from the 2026 list (see here for the full list).
- A Sea of Lemon Trees: The Corrido of Roberto Alvarez by María Dolores Águila (Roaring Brook Press, an imprint of Macmillan)
- Green Promises: Girls Who Loved the Earth by Jeannine Atkins (Atheneum Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Simon & Schuster)
- The Trouble with Heroes by Kate Messner (Bloomsbury Children’s Books)
- The Burning Season by Caroline Starr Rose (Nancy Paulsen Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House)
- The Poetry of Car Mechanics by Heidi E.Y. Stemple (Wordsong, an imprint of Astra Publishing House)
- Radiant by Vaunda Micheaux Nelson (Dutton Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Penguin Random House)
- And if you have favorite poetry books, add them in a note after your poem today so that we can have an abundance of poetry to carry with us.
Sarah’s Poem
What Keeps Humming Now
After we stop counting,
in the quiet, in the watching, the mind keeps composing:
sound in my bones, mindful reservoirs, language as life’s fluid (Jonathon; Melissa; Stacey)
inside this soft world, between breath and bone, being exposed,
I carry our porch-sound in my bones. (Anita; Maureen; Melanie; Melanie)
After all the poeming,
my heart has been tilled, old dead ideas plowed under, (Carrie)
teen identity coagulating, still fluent in Tagalog; (Wendy; Cayetana)
original lands merge gently into a sea of islands to
gather, bead, and become this (Joel; Leilya; Jonathon; Tammi)
present goodness, a watery treasure trove. Can’t wait your return! (Kasey; Kim J.; Kim D.)
After nothing ended here,
darting flies of a writer’s unknown,
looking for the earth’s edge only to return home— (Clayton; Jennifer)
someday I’ll read them all:
the Sneem River roils, a lesson found in crackers, (Sarah F.; Mo; Brenna)
dogwood blossoms heralding spring, dangerous cliffs watching your children,
blossoming these hum-animals on the bridge where the building doubled (Stefani; Rita; Kelley; Kevin)
from the parking lot no one living knows, painted in time. (Sheila; Fran; Susan O.)
After we made this together,
painting another story is who we were, (Bryan)
the one who could hold contradictions with me, rounding edges, a kind of care work (Kate; Dave)
to risk an act of love: she gathers me, I am held here; (Julie; Tracei)
yes, we’re fighting wars; yes, I’m ever so tired—still, the pleasure (Gayle; Cheri; Debbie)
our spirits take flight across a pristine lake, we watch them grow away. (Barb; Rita K.)
After the last poem is not last,
and if this poem speaks, I simply want to write (Stacey; Gavriel)
the wind rustles a golden river in the sky glory green (Darshna; Glenda; Jamie)
clouded like a vanilla swirl labored long over her weary eyes; (Amber; Luke; Allison)
it doesn’t fit the monochrome palette, flood myth gloom we sink; (Scott; Angie; Anna)
so run with the coyotes in bonding games; (Shaun; Susan A.)
there are poems in this day, and more poems tomorrow. (Denise)
what keeps humming is not ending—
but this:
a field of voices becoming and returning, still here,
whispering a spring poem. (LKT)
Note: I realize, as the person who thought this was a reasonable idea, that gathering lines from thousands of poems into one is mildly unhinged. This took hours and hours, and still, I know I’ve missed things—people, lines, entire moments that mattered, and that’s on me. And I have borrowed your words to make something new, hoping I have done them justice and honored you. What’s here is simply what I could carry, what stayed with me, what kept echoing, what my nourished, overfull brain could hold onto long enough to place on the page. And what I couldn’t hold isn’t gone; it’s just diffused, folded into me in ways I can’t always name. This month was an abundance I don’t have language for yet, but I can feel it when I type, when I pause, when something surfaces unexpectedly—it’s in my fingers now, in my thinking, in my dreaming. So if your exact words aren’t here, please know they are still here, somewhere in me, somewhere in the white space that has shaped this making.
Your Turn
Write your poem and share it in the comments if you wish.
As VerseLove closes, remember that the landscape of writing does not disappear. It travels with us into classrooms, conversations, and the small notebooks where we keep noticing the world.
Thank you for writing, reading, and witnessing together.
Do you want more with Ethical ELA?
We also write monthly in our Open Write, mini-monthly versions of VerseLove: May 16-18 with Jessica Wiley and Erica Johnson from Arkansas. June 20-22 with Leilya Pitre from Louisiana. July 18-20 with Glenda Funk from Idaho. And August 15-17 with Denise Krebs, Patricia Franz, and Joanne Emery.
No Cigar
Tracei Willis
After the first 15 days,
I thought, this is it. This the April that I make it.
I felt welcomed and included in this beautiful community of poets,
one spectacular piece after another shared from the heart.
Encouraging, uplifting words felt like wrapped in poem hugs everyday.
16, 17, 18, 19…I was on a roll. Solid ground. Crushing my goal.
20 is where I lost my momentum, and it was all downhill from there.
21 was bowel prep day, and there was nothing poetic to say.
22 was major surgery day and that long medically induced nap was a doozy.
24-27 are still a bit of a fuzzy blur.
28, I tried to regain some ground, I wrote five poems that day…
29, brain had a foggy regression, only produced tears for no reason all day.
30, today is the day I decided to cut myself some slack.
Since 30 days is 30 days,
I will try again in June.
Much love,
I’ve missed you guys!
TW
Tracei, I hope you will join us in May fpr 3 days or June or any month after. We are enriched by your voice and verse and are big fans of cutting slack and giving grace. Hugs.
Tracei…I came to VerseLove halfway through this time. Life interrupts poetry but poetry forgives and heals and waits for us. As does this community of poets. I am astonished that you were able to write five poems – any poems! – in the days following your surgery. Yes, 30 days is 30 days and you can meet your quote any way you choose. Or just savor the less-than-thirty-days of poeming for what is it is. I am glad you are here, offering these words of courage – I find them strengthening. I wish you a full recovery and many more poems to come!
Tracei, tank you for coming back. Hope you recovered from the surgery and feel much better. I read and enjoyed your poems. Your voice was one of the many unique voices in this heteroglossic community of kind and caring poets. See you in May or June.
First and foremost, I hope you are recovering and healing. Nothing is more important than your wellness. Reading your poems was a delight! I appreciated your voice and perspective. I hope you will come back next month and all the months after that to write again. Open Write is doable, but even that can sometimes be hard when life is “lifing” like we say. April is a huge undertaking and we are grateful for any poems any day! Take care and thank you for the giggles, because if this was anything like prep for colonoscopy, there’s definitely nothing poetic to say. 🤣
Tracei, thank you for sharing and being open with us! I really enjoyed reading your piece!
I am so glad that I chose to do this this month. I had so much fun, and found a deeper love for poetry!
After 8 poems,
I find a love
In the poetic.
After one month,
I see a benefit
In rhythm and rhyme.
After today,
I will continue,
Because now
I know myself,
My LORD,
And speaking to others,
Far more.
The economy of words here speaks in the words and in the white space where meaning resonates and rests. So glad you found this space and that you came to lool forward to the poems that waiting.
Do continue, Gavriel – your words ARE impactful. Your poems remind me of the praise psalms. Just as faith is a gift, so is your poetry. Your craft, your clean, concise style, and the clarity of your message offer hope, rest, and peace, pointing the way to overcoming this world that can sustain none of these. “He who has an ear…” Your poems are needed. I am deeply grateful you are here.
Oh! I love this! I love how the brevity of the lines enhances the depth of the meaning and sincerity. I hope to find you again soon in writing communities.
Thank you for your writing this month, and for including your faith in it. (I used a line from one of your poems in a cento this last day of April.)
You can read it here: https://newtreemom.wordpress.com/2026/04/30/npm-2026-day-30/
I loved getting to know you through your poetry! I’m so glad you decided to join us. I look forward to reading more of your poetry. I hope you will join us monthly for Open Write.
Gavriel, I really enjoyed this! I too really enjoyed this space, and I appreciate you sharing with us over the month!
Today’s post was difficult. I don’t want this special thing to end. Reading Sarah’s poem was endearing. I love it. It’s a work of art. Or is it a work of heart? I have loved this gathering nearly daily so much. It was good for my writer’s soul.
Ode to this Gathering of Poets
April draws to a close
and the last period, exclamation point, ellipsis, question mark
has been finalized.
The last little glimpses of my soul
have been exposed.
This is the end,
the jumping off place,
the place where it all starts to change.
I’ll write my little verses,
with no one to admire my work.
I’ll still think I’m so talented.
I will pine for readers,
yearning for responses.
I’ll miss the validation, the comraderie….
my new found friends.
-Carrie Horn
4-30-26
Carrie, this is lovely. There are more jumping off places in your future. Hopefully, we’ll see you on May 16th for Open Write!
I’ll have to put it in the calendar! Or I’ll forget (I blame menopause, but could be adhd…).
Lovely ode, Carrie. The opening celebration of punctuation is perfect. These symbols have carried so much work in the spare line and wide white spaces. So grateful for your words and presence this month.
Thank you! And thank you for your role in making this happen. I’ve learned and grown and felt such a kindred spirit with other writers of poetry.
Carrie,
While this month ends, this community does not. We’ll be back a few days every month, You could hop on Poetry Friday, share poems on your blog, take up the Stafford Poetry Challenge. I share my poems on Canva via IG and FB stories. There are almost always some reactions. You do t have to write alone. I’m glad you found this community nurturing.
Glenda, I feel so blessed to have ”met” you. I look forward to connecting again and again. I am excited that there is something like Poetry Friday! I didn’t expect to find a nurturing community. I had an expectation that it would be a group who were already close with each town and I would be the outsider. It didn’t take long til I was part of the group akd I was so happy about that.
Carrie, I resonate so much with difficulty. I enjoyed this far more than I originally thought that I would. It was such a wonderful experience.
Carrie, although I came to VerseLove halfway through April, I have appreciated your words and reading your comments. You’ve hit on the singular “magic” of the experience – the composing and courageous sharing are part of it, but the biggest part is the encouragement from others. Being a giver as well as a receiver. It takes a lot, which is why I felt I didn’t have it in me until a fellow poet sought me out to see if I was all right. After that I felt that familiar pull – write. Come give anyway. I needed it. We all do, and your poem conveys it so well. Thank you for this and, above all – keep writing!
Thanks! I feel so privileged to have met other writers! I participate in the Slice of Life Challenge in March, but this experience was so much more intimate and I feel like I’ve made connections I want to keep! Happy writing!
Carrie, this is “the place where it all starts to change,” and it is the most beautiful part of this space and these incredibly kind and caring people. I am grateful for meeting you here and reading your wonderful poems.
Carrie,
Your poetry has been so spot on and hit the right nodes. Thanks for shaping this community with your art and thinking.
Sarah, there’s no way to overstate the impact of what you’ve created here. The impact of this community ripples out in ways that I can’t fully articulate because I can’t even wrap my head around it. I’ve become a better writer and teacher because of this community. I’ve taught lessons that I’ve gotten from here. I’ve directed my pre-service teachers to study what happens here so they have the tools and language to attend to there students with care and affirmation. Everyone who steps into this space enriches it, and I’m grateful to be one of the writers who makes a small contribution to a much larger project. Your poem is a perfect exemplar of the ethos of this site. Honoring the contributions of others, and creating something new and thoughtful and thought-provoking. Thanks for making space.
One last one (for now)
Twenty-nine days
locked in to a screen
thinking, man,
I got nothing.
Lemme think,
marinate,
what did Scott write?
Still nothin’
did Bryan write about farts or frogs?
Both.
OK, I got an idea,
pen to paper now,
pepper lines,
sparks–we’re cooking!
And–sure I can kick the
ball around…
Am I a terrible dad?
Kicking around metaphors
and not soccer balls–
Be gone, intrusive thoughts!
Back to this poem
I started 12 hours ago,
damn! it’s almost tomorrow.
Ok, I think i got it,
read through, hit post,
beat midnight, next day–
Hey Ish, wanna read
this poem, it’s kinda
about you.
No, dad,
it’s about you.
Fair.
Dave, great poem. I love the conversation with yourself and then with your son. Such great details that make me smile. I especially like the “kicking around metaphors and not soccer balls” The last stanza is poignant.
Dave,
Love the conversations within your poem—with Scott, Bryan, yourself, and your son. So much humor.
Pepper lines. Love that. Your driving poem will stay with me. It was such a comfort and had me weeping in the best way, remembering. So grateful for you here and how your words and presence has shaped our community for good and goodness.
Dave,
Rather than asking “Am I a terrible dad?
Kicking around metaphors
and not soccer balls–“ I wish our culture asked, “Am I a bad dad kicking balls around instead of tackling language.” When we were in Vietnam I met many kids learning English and Chinese, including a five year. We have our priorities wrong, and that is going to fuck us if we don’t change the narrative. Okay, enough of my TED talk, i agree w/ all you say about poetry in your poem. Long before blogging and Ethical ELA, I said writing teachers should be writers.
Dave, this is a great poem to conclude this April round. Happy 1st of May! Love your poems, they have that easy-flowing narrative nature that moves smoothly, and I want to read, read read.
I am highlighting these lines today:
“Am I a terrible dad?
Kicking around metaphors
and not soccer balls–
Be gone, intrusive thoughts!”
But I love it all! Thank you.
Hi Dave,
I know one thing for sure and I have never met you, YOU ARE AN AMAZING DAD!! I love the way you shared your thinking in this poem. This was especially funny:
Dave, this was so beautiful to read! I loved the personal connection and relation in this poem. Thank you for sharing!
Sarah, thank you so much for this final prompt and this space you have fostered.
To all the hosts, thank you for your time and thoughtful planning and response.
Two years ago, I joined this challenge and wrote for seven days, I think. This time I did give myself permission to come and go, and I wrote fourteen poems. Maybe next year will be the year for thirty. I have loved reading all of your work. What a beautiful collective of humans. I’m proud to be one of us.
In a spring when I spend too much time
detecting the machine contributions to my students’ learning:
a role I never asked for in a world I never asked for,
Today, I reread our poems,
by beings laid bare.
We wrote about teacher life and real life.
We made the invisible visible.
Fourteen poems and thirty days later,
I am fortified–
Fed by our collective anger, loss, skepticism, joy
Our noticing
Our witnessing
Our gentle response, the careful catching of words
Our humanity.
Brenna, I am so glad I came back to catch your poem before signing off for tonight. You are so right about detecting machine contributions and a world we didn’t ask for, but have to live this time and still teach students to think for themselves. I see how this community feeds each other by noticing, witnessing, reciprocating. Love “the careful catching of the words.” Thank you, and hope to “see” you in May for the Open Write.
Brenna,
That last stanza!!!! Whew!
I really couldn’t agree more. The acts of noticing and witnessing and the affirmations of humanity are so present throughout the month.
Brenna, wow, this poem is beautiful. I love the last four lines with the important anaphora “our” giving the concept even more weight.
What an apt and important comparison of what you did with your students and AI and the poems written here.
Well done, Brenna. I’ve enjoyed seeing you as often as you came this year!
Oh, yes. I am fortified. And, yes, we can only be so when we allow our own rhythms to guide us, not guilt or shame or numbers other than those we set for ourselves. So glad you were gentle with yourself this month and found a way of writing that felt good. So glad you are here.
Brenna, this is such a wonderful poem. I really enjoyed getting to read your poems throughout this!
Brenna I loved your poem and relate to so much. I love this line…. “Fed by our collective anger, loss, skepticism, joy”. It gives validity to the plethora of feelings displayed daily.
After thirty poems, after thirty days at the end of winter, after almost an entire semester,
I am tired.
But it’s a good kind of tired, the tired from a trail run, the tired from gardening,
The tired from making something beautiful and meaningful.
But I’m also energized–
New prompts I’ve shared with my students,
New risks I’ve taken
(I told my student who’s a slam poet that I wrote my first slam poem)
And above all, joy.
You know that tired when you played at the beach all day and fell asleep in the car with sand in your hair, sunburned and sticky from the sunscreen that didn’t work after all?
That.
Sheila, it was wonderful to write alongside you and read your poems this April. I understand the kind of “tired” you describe, tired, but full. Love the sketch of the tired at the beach. Thank you for writing, sharing, responding.
Sheila, oh, yeah, I know that kind of tired that you describe so well at the end of your poem. And yet, you were here for 30 days! Wow. It’s been a long semester, and I’m so glad you were here and grew and expanded your poetry and teaching in ways that will keep growing into the future. Well done!
Sheila, your metaphor, comparing writing poetry to a day on the beach really works! I particularly like the closing line of trying to protect ourselves from the heat, but glad we got out, anyway. Best to you as the school year winds down. Have fun with these prompts with your students. Consider using some for exam review preps. You’ll be pleasantly surprised how much they will find it a productive formative assessment activity. You won’t have to grade it either. Have write, share, and perform all in one class meeting!
Sheila,
What a poem! I love the fun, the metaphor, the play, the sand, the hair, the sunscreen. It all points to living in motion. Thank you.
Oh Sheila, I have loved writing alongside you this month, my friend. This poem is perfect. The last one word line is captured so beautifully with the beachy image above it.
Yes, Sheila, I’m feeling so many of these feelings. Tired, but in an accomplished way. I love the metaphor in the last stanza. I want to extend it cuz it’s also showing up the next day at the beach!
Sheila, Yes, that kind of tired. Feels satisfying for sure and full and all the good vitamins and endorphins that have swam in your body. Yes. That kind. That is poetry. Beautiful.
Sheila, I feel this. I have felt so tired, but i am so happy to have accomplished so much and be on the brink of summer!
After April
I am sped.
She has made worm’s meat of me.
Today’s unforgiving 52-degrees
smacked soundly
‘gainst my cheek
I sped
from parking lot
as schoolboys from their books
Late still–again
(Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast)
I ‘tumble in
And yet, I was not born to shame.
Upon my brow
shame is ashamed to sit.
I shall defend mine month:
14 poems writ
and despite this glooming peace
the sun for sorrow
will not show his head.
Allison, I love this poem so much. I love the blending of Berryhill and Shakespeare.
Allison,
14 poems is 14 more than you had March 31. No shame, only a pat on the back for showing up and doing your best. In you I see wisdom and discernment, qualities I need to work on. Peace.
Allison, so fun! It is Shakespeare coming to help you “defend mine month.” I’m always impressed with the creativity you bring to this space. Inspiring indeed. 14 poems of inspiration for me and so many others. Thank you!
Allison, your words are wise, intentional, honest. I love the ending: “the sun for sorrow / will not show his head.” Thank you!
Such inspiration and beauty filled with just the right nuance. It’s been a treat to read your poetry and appreciate the artistic talent.
Oh, Allison, I love it. I love the Shakespeare (I’m currently teaching The Tempest!). My favorite line is “I was not born to shame” and the verb “defend” that follows. Your arrangement is so smart.
Oh, Allison, you are a master poet! Love the simile of “as schoolboys from their books”. Your voice is strident and unapologetic which makes your poem sing!
Allison, beautiful. The pattern. The rhythm. The care with best and breath. This comes from knowing your voice and how words serve you, can serve you. I have loved every poem and being with you here.
Sarah, I adore you and applaud your poem. I could probably write a long letter of love and appreciation, but you asked for 8-12 lines of poetry. I will follow directions😂.
What Hums in April and May
What keeps humming in
The hearts of poets in May
Haiku about Spring
Ekphrasis poems
Or a golden hinge on hope
A blitz or a bop
What keeps humming in
The souls of teachers who write
April’s favorite lines
©Stacey L. Joy, 4/30/26
Thank you to everyone here who has made April 2026 one of the best poetry writing months ever!! I appreciate all of your comments, your poetry, and your caring hearts. Happy May!!
Stacey,
I felt your poem humming! Love the way you personified and folded the poetry formats into your poem.
Stacey, such a gorgeous background image for a n incredible poem! I have savored your words and heard your humming every day. Thank you, friend ❤️
Stacey, your golden shovels have been amazing all month!
Stacey,
Love the Canva. April is a silent/noisy month. It’s the onomatopoeic month. I’m here for the extension of April’s poetry into Nay. I’ll be writing a lot about rotten female body parts. Hope I don’t get put in social media lockup.
Stacey, you’re one of the reasons the final stanza of your poem is true for most of us!
What keeps humming in
The souls of teachers who write
April’s favorite lines
Your poems resonate with me!
Stacey, I adore you. (I copied that from your note to Sarah, but it’s true.) I love the title of your poem because that reminds me that we will keep going with this humming. It’s in our souls. Thank you for always being here. I always look forward to seeing your poems on Threads, Instagram and/or here. 🙂 Happy May to you too!
Love the visual and sound bytes with all your poetic touches. Gorgeous crocus beauty to capture this month!
Stacey–I love the reach to the future. Let’s keep humming to all the lines from a rich, poetry-filled April.
Stacey,
“what keeps humming in” is such a great opening to repeat. I also love the line “blitz or a bop”–the sounds there! I have gathered from your poems and the comments that you are planning to retire at the end of the year. Congratulations! I know your students are incredibly lucky to have had you in their lives. <3
Stacey, I love the way you’ve weaved poetic forms and the jazz-like beat of your poem. The hum is simply joyful! Love it!
Stacey, thank you for reflecting the forms and hums of our month. I learned new ways of organizing words and circled back to ones that felt good or stretched. And I loved seeing the preferences and rhythms other chose. Your golden shovels comfort me. Mo’s haiku are a breath of her here. Scott’s skinny lines are a familiar scroll. You honor them here. And I can write letters about you for days.
Gorgeous, Stacey! Your lines flow so beautifully, one into the other. I am smiling at your intro, that you followed Sarah’s guidelines about keeping the poem short, because I didn’t (although I did apologize, ha). Coming here, offering whatever we have in us, however it comes out, is always met with profound grace. “The souls of teachers who write” – speaks to the eternal impact we have in our work of supporting and loving our fellow humans, and the desire to know each other and, most of all, ourselves, better. We must, if we are to make anything around us better. From the first time I came here you welcomed me with words that lifted my soul; I have always been grateful for you. In this world and this life there is much brokenness and loss…yet see how our poeming and commenting (more so) creates these familial connections. It’s like a poetic sisterhood. It’s a gift. You and your words are gifts.
Crying over here. It’s been an emotional last few weeks as I’ve begun embracing the real deal of retirement in June. You, Fran, and everyone else here, are gifts to humanity. I’m grateful for you!
Thank you, Sarah, for another amazing April of Verselove!
April brought poem showers,
Word-sprays of nourishment
lines soaking the soil,
verses gently shifting hearts.
Mists of contemplation gathered,
pools of reflection distilled in language—
then sudden cascades of joy,
smiles spreading, laughter rolling.
And storms—
raging hail, hard with condemnation
Storms that screamed at the world —
ink running red.
April’s poem showers
sink deep into the soil,
seeking answers to unanswerable questions,
words pleading
for justice, for compassion.
And rainbows —
Connecting teacher poets
Forging friendships one stanza at a time
April brought poem showers,
and I was grateful to bath in the raindrops
Tammi, such a wonderful way to celebrate April and this space. Love the repeating line that extends the essence of “poem showers.” Thank you for writing and sharing. I, too, am “grateful to bath in the raindrops.”
This poem is so lovely. The various types of water imagery, all tied somehow to April showers, are wonderful.
Tammi, this stanza summarizes the power of this month of poetry writing>
April’s poem showers
sink deep into the soil,
seeking answers to unanswerable questions,
words pleading
for justice, for compassion.
And remember, April showers bring May flowers. You’re going to be blossoming as the school year ends.
Tammi, what a beautiful metaphoric masterpiece. I smiled and shook my head throughout, sometimes getting goosebumps, as well. I love how you covered the gambit from showers, mists, pools, storms, (ink running red–wow), to the “showers that sink deep into the soil” bringing justice. Yes. And rainbows! What a beautiful poem. I too was “grateful to bathe in the raindrops”!
Wow! Such a powerful piece rooted in a deftly polished extended metaphor…I just keep reading it over and over, bathing in the raindrops!
Oh, Tammi, I love the metaphor of the different kinds of rain we experienced this month through poetry. The storms are what resonate with me most, but the joy that is in our words, “the rainbows” and “the mists of contemplation”–you capture this experience so beautifully.
Tammi, I love the extended metaphor in your poem. The joy at the end is lovely! I loved word-sprays of nourishment! What a delightful, fresh image. I can see the rainbow shining!
Oh, mists of contemplation is gorgeous. That is a poem. And that is poetry, what we’ve made individually and collectively. And bathe in raindrops. Love it.
On this 30th day of April, my pockets are overflowing with poems: those I’ve read, those I’ve written, those I’ve taught, those I’ve admired, those that echo in my ears. I’m grateful for this community of poets who have taken the time to read and respond to my poetry, to my blog visitors who stop by and tap the like button, to my students who have learned to love a metaphor, and to my husband who puts up with the push and pull of my need to write, my struggle to write, and the time it takes each and every evening to get words on the page. Poetry doesn’t begin and end with April, but it is wonderful to have a month where poetry gets the attention it needs and deserves. And so much appreciation for Sarah and all of you here at Verselove for endless inspiration and encouragment.
Counting poems
birds that flutter just out of reach
a flash of color
sweet melodies in my ear
I can almost see them
but not quite
until that blur comes into focus
with a word
a heartbeat
a breathe
don’t try to catch them
just count them
and spread them
to seed the world
@kd0602
Lovely sentiments in your poem today, Kim. The fluttering, flash, blur, and heartbeat work so well together I love the idea of scattering poems like seeds.
Kim — I love the way your poem captures the labor and art of writing –“I can almost see them/but not quite/until that blur comes into focus/with a word …” –This is so true!
Kim,
I love the imagination come to life in this poem with its melodies, metaphors, and visual imagery. It kind of takes your breath away. Beautiful.
Kim, what an incredible way to see words as seeds spread all over the world. Love the imagery of birds fluttering “just out of reach.” Thank you!
OH, Kim, I can see you in the evening counting poems, watching them land and spread and seed the world. Such a rich metaphor for what we do to find the poems. Beautiful.
Kim, the movement that is in this poem is so powerful. Combined with the last line of “seed the world”–so hopeful. What a lovely one to end this month with.
Yes, blur into focus. That is ablovely phrase for writing that is will carry.
Sarah, thank you for keeping us together. Still remember our first April together. The energy I feel from distant writers keeps me returning to share and learn from each of you.
after 13 poems
revisiting my poems from the month
I noticed reflection on daily experiences,
familiar people and places along
with moments the prompt nudged from my memory
as always I enjoyed discovering where other writers –
spend time – thank you for opening your doors to me
come from – so fun to discover a connection to the writer on the screen
as far as learning about me, the poet, I noted your words
questions which probed for more information
voices who jumped into discover more about Vincent Valdez
I’m getting better at cutting words!
Sarah, I enjoyed the chance to return to el Peru in your words
and I loved the opportunity to work with new forms –
Jennifer, the play with opposites
Ann, thank you for introducing me to the haibun
and Angie the Golden Hinge
Jessica, you made instructions so interesting
it’s wonderful to be part of a group of writers
who push me gather and publish my words
in 13 poems
In my opinion reflection is the mark of a good writer. I appreciate the reflecting you did this month. I also like your use of the word nudge which implies a gentle movement.
Jamie —“as always I enjoyed discovering where other writers –
spend time” — I agree with you. I always learn so much about poet friends and where they live through the landscapes of poetry.
Jaimie, I appreciate the reflective nature of your poem today. As we close the month, we want to look back. I agree, we don’t just share and write, we learn from each other, we get inspired, we connect and make friends. Thank you for being a part of VerseLove.
Jamie, nice reflection on the 13 poems you wrote in April. Congratulations. It is always good to see you here. I like how the comments from people helped you grow as a writer. That is always a great gift.
Jamie, I agree that it is wonderful to be a part of this group of writers. And I love how you pointed out some of your favorite prompts. Those were some of my favorites too.
Oh, Jamie. So lovely to see you and read you in poems and catch scenes of your family these 6 years after we first met or maybe longer. I loved the connections and gatherings in your lines.
Thank you, Sarah, for this month of writing. Thank you to all who hosted, wrote, and responded. Thank you for the gift of giving selflessly.
This poem was inspired by the lines, images, and moments shared by 67 poets who responded to the prompt “Look around—Here is a Poem” I hosted on April 2. I am grateful for every word, every line, every stanza. I chose a line, or two 🙂 from each of the poems, but couldn’t allow myself to take up so much space here, so this is what it came out to be. If anyone wants the one with original lines and your names , drop me a note.
A Month of Small Gifts
Each day, a small gift
left on the doorstep of morning,
waiting to be opened
with coffee, with wonder, with care.
We set a table of words
across distance,
across time zones,
across generations,
no one left empty-handed.
Poems found us everywhere:
in windshields and gardens,
under open sky,
in kitchens, classrooms,
in voices found in
a friend, a daughter, a stranger
asking what we could not quite answer.
We wrote beside one another,
holding joy and sorrow between us,
heard, seen, accepted without judgment
I did not know how much I would carry,
or how much would carry me—
The month ends,
but the giving doesn’t.
I’ll keep these gifts
as small lights
for the days that need them.
With sincere gratitude to each one of you:
Kevin, Kim Johnson, Diane Anderson, Sarah Donovan, Glenda Funk, Cheri Mann, Joel R Garza, Anna Small Roseboro, Margaret Simon, Wendy Everard, Juliette Awua-Kyerematen, Sarah Fleming, Mo Daley, Debbie T., Jordan S., Susie Morice, Kelley Paystrup, Kate Sjostrom, Jennifer Kesler, Bryan Crandall, Melissa Heaton, Clayton, Rachel S., Kasey Dearman, Tracei Willis, Jennifer Kowaczek, anita ferreri, Stefani B., Donna JT Smith, Joanne Emery, Shaun, Jonathon Medeiros, Stacey Joy, Luke Bensing, Melanie Hundley, Lori Sharoan, Susan Ahlbrand, Barb Edler, LKT, Rita Kenefic, Darshna, Dave Wooley, Heidi Ames, cmhutter, Gayle Sands, Maureen Young Ingram, Scott M, Sharon Roy, Jamie Langley, Susan O, Merrilee 234, Rita DiCarne, Ashley, Erica Johnson, Heather Morris, Jennifer Guyor Jowett, Julie Elizabeth Meiklejohn, Denise Krebs, Kim Douillard, Julie Hoffman, Brenna, Sheila Benson, Marla, Kassidy Fry, Sarah W.
Thank you 😊
Leilya, I love how you crafted this poem! Reading your poems this month has been a gift. I look forward to reading more of your work during Open Write. Thank you for your time and attention during this month of daily poetry!
So beautiful, Leilya! I love how this opens gently, as if we are waking up to the sweetest surprise, which is how opening the prompts feel. Your poems are so carefully and thoughtfully crafted, reminding me of you. Thank you for sharing your sweet surprises with us this month. It’s always an honor to write with you.
Leilya,
“We set a table of words”! Yes, and we “Ate poetry,” just like in the poem of that name. zit is a joy to find you here each day and to experience a little bit of Ukraine via your poems and stories. I think the image of a table is so appropriate give how hungry you’ve made me w/ so many of your poems. I really must crash one of your parties. Love you! 🥰
BTW: There was an art installation. called The Dinner Party that I learned about years ago in either my gender communication class or in an interpersonal communication class. I’m off to find it!
The Dinner Party by Judy Chicago: https://smarthistory.org/judy-chicago-the-dinner-party/
Thank you, Glenda! I just quickly scanned through, but want to read more carefully tomorrow. My dinner table is much humbler, but I would love to see you, Barb, Denise, Kim and a few others at it one day. ❤️
You are such a treasure, Leilya! Your writing always touches my heart and your responses are full of insight and kindness.
Wow, Leilya, your poem is a gift. I love the imagery of the poets setting a table of words. Your poem celebrates the connection and the care we can give each other through our grief and joy by being present. Your poetry has moved and inspired me every day. Thank you for your craft and generosity! Much love, Barb
The month ends, the giving doesn’t. It’s true we shared gifts of light.
What a perfect summary of our month together, Leilya. I love the giving and receiving of poetic gifts.
Leilya,
This is truth — “I did not know how much I would carry,/or how much would carry me—” Writing and reading poetry is so powerful!
A beautiful gift, indeed. Thanks for your generosity and poetic ideas throughout the month. It’s been wonderful to get to know you. Hope to see you in this community again or at a conference. Take good care.
Leilya, you are indeed the real gift here today as well as all month long. I have enjoyed your writing and appreciate your encouraging words.
Leilya, this poem is more than a small gift – it is a treasure, as are you. I am sorry I missed the day you hosted, arriving “halfway through” VerseLove as you know, but I am sure it was amazing. I’m awed by what you did here, drawing from lines posted that day, for the poem flows as if it was “born” this way right from your heart! Poems did find us everywhere. They knit our hearts together in the way that only poem-writing in community can. I so appreciate your always-kind, insightful responses. You have a great gift for encouragement – you have blessed me time and time again. Thank you and yes – the giving goes on, and we shall carry the light forward with us!
Leilya, this is a gift of a poem and such a nice tribute to each poet in this community. I love it all, but this stanza speaks to me with such comfort:
We wrote beside one another,
holding joy and sorrow between us,
heard, seen, accepted without judgment
I did not know how much I would carry,
or how much would carry me—
Those last two lines in that stanza shows the carrying and being carried – – and I think we all did a lot of both. Thank you for your presence and your kindness in your commenting. You are an encourager, and we need more people who are like you.
Leilya, this is beautiful. Yes, a table of words, we set for one another. I love that image. “We wrote beside one another, holding joy and sorrow between us.” Gorgeous.
I would love to read the full poem, please.
Thank you, Denise! Will email it to you tomorrow.
Leilya, what a beautiful gift to round out the month. Here, I love how you capture the community and our individuality in it : “I did not know how much I would carry,/
or how much would carry me”
I have loved reading your work and looked forward to your response this month. Thank you.
Leilya,
Your poem is so beautiful.
Indeed!
Thank you for all your gentle poems this month and your supportive and loving comments. I especially appreciated your support as I grieved the loss of my aunt.
I’d love to see a copy of your longer version.
See you in May!
Thanks for this beautiful gift, Leilya!
Wow, Leilya. What a way to honor this space and to show the 67 ways people heard your call on April 2nd. Look what you inspired because you asked. You invited a poem, and these 67 responded. All different. All making their way into lines and stanza. Lives holding white space for one another. Beautiful.
After many days I sit and ponder
the semester comes to a close
and its time to wander
to my future that awaits
But I’ll remember this work
sitting, scratching, drafting
from key to key my fingers jerk.
following the prompt
at least most of the time
usually writing poems
trying to make them rhyme
this writing challenge was great
but tough to keep up
between classes and work
full was my cup
all in all I’d say it went well
thinking every day
of new stories to tell.
Alli, well done–reflection along with meter and rhyming! Wow. I loved reading this one and imagine you working at your computer. It sounds like you are graduating! Congratulations. Here’s to success and joy as you “wander to [your] future that awaits.”
Alli, this is what I am going to miss too:
“sitting, scratching, drafting
from key to key my fingers jerk.
following the prompt”
I like your rhyming. It flows smoothly without being forced. Thank you for writing and sharing with us.
Alli,
Love the rhyme and rhythm of your poem. and this –“following the prompt/at least most of the time” – made me smile.
and this “But I’ll remember this work” — I agree!
Sitting, scratching, drafting. Lovely. Yes. That is the art of it all. Glad you are here.
No poem today, but I just wanted to let you all know how much I’ve appreciated you all this month. For various reasons, this month has been one of the worst of my life. This daily practice has kept me sane, encouraged me, and even made me feel like I accomplished a little something.
I learned that I don’t need to have a “perfect” setting in order to write poetry. I can write anytime, anywhere, under just about any circumstances.
I am sorry that I have not been consistent in commenting…I’ve been in and out. But I am so incredibly amazed and inspired by all of you…thank you so much!
Julie, peace to you! I’m so glad that in one of the worst months, we could be here for a little addition of inspiration and encouragement. Here’s to a better May and lots more poetry!
Julie, we were happy to see you here. I am glad this space provided some emotional outlet for you. Hope things get better, and we will see you back in may for the Open Write. Thank you!
Thank you for taking the time to share with us during this difficult season. I pray the tough times relent and you find peaceful days ahead.
Julie –The wonderful thing about this space is there is never any judgement. I hope May brings you flowers, peace and poetry!
Yes, write anytime. And I find that I am writing even when I do not have a physical place to scribe or type words. No shame or guilt here. No judgment. Your way of being here. Your rhythm needs to serve you and feel good to you, no other pattern fits otherwise. Thank you for being here.
Sarah, thank you for your lovely invitation to review this past month through poetry. Your leadership is appreciated and I hope you are having a marvelous time. Right now, I wish I was on a boat enjoying a sunlight cruise, but alas, I’m in Iowa! I’ve felt a lot of mixed emotions this month. I appreciate everyone who has taken some time to respond to my work. I know I have enjoyed reading everyone else’s poetry far more than sharing my own.
April 2026 VerseLove
I scribble, scratch, sigh—
try again, feeling my frustrations rise
I’m the scolded brat, pouting in a corner,
excluded, misunderstood, rejected
I scribble, scratch, sigh—
Why will my words not flow?
I’m April rainstorms
sudden loss, a complete catastrophe
I scribble, scratch, sigh—
then post anyway
I’m the vulnerable teenager
waiting for my date to arrive
Of course he never shows—
but a stranger does, says, Hey, you’re all right.
I feel the spark, the joy, the engagement
I’m a bright blue balloon bopping in the sky
Barb Edler
30 April 2026
Barb,
This is A-MA-ZING! A real zinger of a poem. Love all the metaphors. They fit you. Love the repetition in “scribble, scratch, sigh—and have beautiful visions of you writing. And about that date you’re awaiting. His loss, so fuck him, As Ken says, there’s more than one soulmate for each of us. Hugs!
I can relate with your poem so much! “Of course he never shows–” I know that feeling. And I certainly feel that frustration, trying to write to meet the commitment that I’ve made, at least to myself, and write, write, write. And then post anyway. I feel a comradery, like you wrote it for me. Thank you for sharing.
Barb, another beauty. I think your standards for your own poems are sky high. I am one of your many fans–your poetry is raw, real, with magical word choice. I love the metaphors you’ve given yourself–scolded brat, April rainstorms, vulnerable teenager, and a bright blue balloon. I go up and down with you throughout your poem.
Barb, I’m so happy I had the opportunity to read your poetry this month. Today’s poem is fresh and full of strong images that perfectly capture all the feels when attempting to get our words on paper. Thank you for holding up the mirror so I can see myself in your words.
Barb, I love your poem (and all the ones before this one), so don’t be hard on yourself. The repetition of “I scribble, scratch, sigh” signal the beginning of a new poem, or a new story to me. “I’m April rainstorm” is such a great metaphor for a rebellious nature. I am so glad to know you and appreciate your always, always generous and kind comments uplifting each voice in this space. Thank you!
Barb, there’s something about posting our writing which feels tremendously vulnerable. Our inner critics can wreak havoc, and it’s hard not to ignore them. So many times, the poems don’t come easily. But I admire the strength that always comes through in your pieces and imagine you standing up at the slam events you have participated in and delivering the words aloud. Your poems pack a punch and I’m grateful to “hear” them.
Barb,
I love the repetition within the poem that is vulnerable and making your poem come to life. Thank you for your kind and thoughtful support throughout the month. What a joy to know you.
Barb, you are indeed all right and you thoughts and words are inspirational. Thank you for your wonderful mentorship in this community.
Barb,
I totally relate to “Why will my words not flow?”
I love the hope in your last stanza “I feel the spark, the joy, the engagement/I’m a bright blue balloon bopping in the sky”
Barb, perfect descriptions of the frustration and vulnerability we experience in writing poetry, especially during this challenge – yet, whenever I read your verse, it is seamless. I marvel again and again at the way you craft and draw the reader in to feel what you are feeling. For the record – I cannot see you as “the scolded brat pouting in the corner, excluded, misunderstood, rejected,” and by no means “a complete catastrophe” – but I you make me hold the mirror to myself and say yes, I have felt this way, too. You write with raw honesty and I admire it tremendously. You have been such an encourager to me and I am so grateful for you. Thank you for everything!
Barb, I have these mornings just the same of scribble, scratch, sighing as the words refuse to come……it was like that today for sure. Your poem uses a repeating line, which I love and so rarely think to do. I need to go back and look at poem for techniques and craft moves. Thank you for sharing the hope at the end, the power of a stranger’s words to spark us and to remind me that I, too, can have an inpact from positive words.Thank you for the presence in writing through the month.
Barb, I love this poem and you. Your presence here in poetry and response in hosting and holding is a gift to us all. I love the reflection of process and self doubt that you offer in metaphor and candid confession. The words that arrive and thos that elude or bop in the sky. I always worry about losing words and just cant be patient for my date to arrive. Broken hearted so many times to let a poem go as enough. Love this.
Sarah, and all the Verselove community, thank you so much for this month of writing. It’s been so good. Not always easy, but always good. Sarah, your poem is a delight to read your words and some of ours mingled in together. I wrote a triolet in honor of this community.
Poets embrace today in hope,
fearing not tomorrow. Pens ablaze,
with heavy loads, we write and cope.
Poets embrace today in hope,
love and suffering–the full scope
of emotions dance in praise.
Poets embrace today in hope,
fearing not tomorrow. Pens ablaze.
Denise,
What a beautiful tribute to our writing, to our community, to our searching for meaning.
Thank you for your beautiful poems and supportive comments this month.
Thank you, also, for your work behind the scenes.
I love this Denise ~ I always struggle with triolet ~ but this is lovely! fearing not tomorrow. Pens ablaze! I need to hold onto that line!
Denise, thank you for this poem of hope, a call to continue writing! Your beautiful poetry, support, and encouragement have helped keep my “pen ablaze” this month. I appreciate you and your poet’s voice!
Denise, you’ve captured the essence of what many share and experience in this community. “Pens ablaze” is an apt description of the action and “heavy loads” is perfect to show the content many openly share through their work. I like the idea of fearing not tomorrow since the month is over, but most of us will continue to write our poems and hope for connection and understanding with an audience or through our own self-satisfaction. The triolet really works well to carry all the emotions of your poem. Lovely!
Denise,
You are correct: “with heavy loads, we write and cope.” and “it’s not always easy,” Tjis gave bede an epiphany: Why should it always be easy? and Who am I to have that ridiculous expectation? I needed that, and honestly, I (and we) need your voice. ‘Preciate you and your advocacy and friendship, Hugs and Peace.
Denise, your triolet carries hope through each line with images, words, rhythm, and rhyme. I could just copy and paste the entire poem here; it is so well crafted. Love these lines:
“Poets embrace today in hope,
love and suffering–the full scope
of emotions dance in praise.”
Thank you for being an instrumental curator of the page behind the scenes! I was looking forward to read your poems every day.
I love the emphasis on hope, in spite of the state of the world. Here we go, pens ablaze!
Denise, I’m reminded of the power that words carry in your repeated words – not only the intensity that comes from pens ablaze but also in the hope that ignites. Your words do that. They envelope your spirit and tenacity. They lift us. Thank you for being a voice of hope in this very dark world, offering those bits of light each day.
Embrace hope, fear not, let the full scope of emotions dance… and keep writing!
I am feeling the embrace and hope! Thank you, Denise for your month-long dedication and care. It’s been so fun to get to know you through your poetry.
Denise, this is a wonderful tribute poem. Thank you for all you do and for al your words that have inspired me for a while.
Denise — Love the spirit and message of your poem “Poets embrace today in hope”!
Yes, “pens ablaze!”
Denise, hooray! I love a triolet! And you capture the spirit of hope in the writing, with pens ablaze. Thank you for your stepping in to help as Sarah has been away this month – – we owe you a debt of gratitude so that we were able to carry on in the space. I am grateful for all the work that everyone does to be able to offer us this community. So we can keep pens ablaze.
Thank you, Kim. I feel a little sheepish today. I have helped with Open Write this year, but this month it’s been Sarah who has been traveling and holding down the Ethical ELA fort. Kudos to her!
Denise, beautiful job with the triolet form, which can be tricky! The way you work a form to make it flow so effortlessly is just amazing. What a lovely tribute to this community, and I love its message of embracing hope. Yes, we are – and we will! I know I have said it many times before but thank you, again, for being so incredibly supportive. Your giving heart is limitless, I think, and I admire it so.
Yes, pens ablaze. The love and suffering held here and with just care is precious to me. I love that we hold space for it all and find ways to praise, support, encourage, and find lines that show we witness the many ways pens ablaze poems. Grateful for the art in your careful, compassionate poetry and responses, friend.
Sarah,
Thank you for elevating the NCTE Children’s Poetry Committee’s work. My term ends in a year, so I want to invite our poet friends to consider applying. I’m happy to assist all who are interested.
Thank you for your dedication to our poet hearts and to our common humanity. I know you serve us in myriad ways and devote time and money to this shared space. Thank you!
I love thinking about poetry as witness and dive into Carolyn Forché’s philosophy, which influenced my poem today.
to Witness
here-on the page-we witness—
call it evidencing life
call it inhabiting bodies
call it embodied realities
call it vaporized testimony
call it embalming a moment
call it chronicles of consciousness
call it activism against forgetting
call it making alive the storyteller
call it recreating moments of time
call it acts of repairing, of mending, of healing, of restoring
call it poeming
call it poetry
call us poets
Glenda Funk
April 30, 2026
* “The poetry of witness reclaims the social from the political and in so doing defends the individual against illegitimate forms of coercion.” —Carolyn Forché.
**Canva image in the Hanoi Ethnographic Museum,?’ a site dedicated to teaching Vietnam’s rich, diverse history m.
Glenda, embalming a moment….making it last, preserving it forever so that it does not fade. I’ll call it all that, all those things you said, and what I think I love most is calling us poets. It’s great to share this space with so many poets in community together.
Glenda, I love this. Poetry as witness. To “chronicle consciousness” and “call it embalming a moment” and those four words “repairing, mending, healing, restoring” just help me to breathe more slowly and feel more richly. Yes, call us poets!
Glenda,
Wow!
I love the repetition and the way your lines build to overflowing in
Thank you for your poems this month, for bringing us along on your travels and your supportive comments.
Call it acts of repairing, of mending, of healing, of restoring..Love this, Glenda!
Glenda, your writing makes me want to celebrate! You know I always admire how clear your voice comes through in your work. If not for you and Kim telling me about Verselove, I would have missed out on this glorious month. My favorite line of your poem today is: “call it making alive the storyteller.” Thank you!
Glenda, your poem today reminds me of a testament of all that happens. I also appreciate the phrase “embalming a moment” because of the way this connects with death. However, it does help something last for a very, very long time. Your use of anaphora adds weight to your words. “Call it poeming” is such a wonderful verb and line, and the last three lines are definitely my favorite. I have appreciated your poet voice throughout this month. Your keen perspective and strong voice resonate. Thanks for being part of this community, always showing up and responding ferociously to everyone present.
Glenda, all of these names are so-so relevant and present daily. These two attracted my attention and made me think: “call it vaporized testimony” and “call it chronicles of consciousness” –both are thought provoking.
And the final one is just what draws many of us here, even when we don’t realize it:
“call it acts of repairing, of mending, of healing, of restoring.”
I wanted to thank you, Glenda, for your words, for your unwavering support, and for generous comments to all poets here.
Glenda, I am struck by both the permanency of your words (embalming moments and inhabited bodies) and the ethereal (vaporized testimony and moments of time). I love that idea of vaporized testimony. There’s something about the two words together that lingers. You bring a voice to our work together that is much needed. It’s the witnessing. And I thank you for that.
Glenda,
Here you go again, being a rockstar of poetry! So well thought out at and framed in this parting poem.
call it embalming a moment
call it chronicles of consciousness
Thanks for taking the time to write and support us in community.
Poets poeming poetry… who we are, what we do.
Glenda, thank you, sincerely, for all you do to support advocacy and literacy in this world and in this community. I am in awe of your work and deeply grateful for your writing and support. I am a better person to have participated in this, partly because of your push.
Lovely to see your poem engaging amd shaping Forché who I cite often for all the ways you illuminate so beautifully here. This is the existential turn I deeply value and return to over and over when I feel myself slipping into why. Thank you for this grounding and for all the ways you showed up this month to support writing and writers. So grateful.
I know this poem doesn’t follow the prompt, but my father recently passed away and I’d like to share.
it begins to make sense, in a world full of nonsense: a daughter
while thinking of younger years
hostility, yelling, and confusion
surrounded by endless webs of lies
not from mother
galloping in the rain when the ditches flooded
travels to competitions
bringing smiles to every path she crossed
reminding her kin to stay true to their own heart
to remember their “pleases and thank yous!”
to carry such high hopes for the passage on earth
at times, our kind can’t seem to listen to their own wisdom…
when the tribulations of the earth are too complex
the purest of souls can be deeply scarred
and one day, seeking final rest
within translucent amber bottles,
all she could reflect
were the children she bore
the tenderness she carried into the world
dozens of heartfelt ornaments from her children
surrounded the room,
and the nightmare halted
a mother’s heart, her young ones,
would not see her beauty
erode to earth
but when you consider Father
harsher language
growing up in confusion and hatred
how would he have known love?
when all you are taught is hatred
how can a boy know how to love
purple swollen skin
to the school dance
left on the side of I-35 as a sick joke
by another once broken boy
whiskey was not present in his earlier life
but he found a twisted sanctuary within the poison
when poison is all you know
you crawl towards it
uncomfortable comfort
when he stumbled into love
it was tainted in the liquor
clothes thrown off to the cobblestone
burned in the flames of a failed love
a brunette baby boy was born
within a false romance
a home split in two
a father too young to know how to be one-
absent
the poison grasped him with more force
but he found mother
promises of new beginnings
children, no financial burdens, smiles
he began with thoughts of an end coming soon
mother, worried sick, took two brunette girls
to the rustic and charming state
honey lived there
she could find something better
sadness and revolt grew in his soul
he plead to become one again
they found home where the waters were still, but
gunshots bouncing off the floors interrupted the stillness
and another separation was to come.
springing decades,
he lived submerged in grief
his anger found its way into everything
diving deeper into his debts
the ones who loved and cared
grew pitiful with his failures
the debts-
not able to feed his kin
unable to hold onto love
to lead with kindness
he was unconscious for what appeared to be
***
eternity
telling his daughters that when
tragedy finally struck,
and the attempt to end her life worked at last
he wouldn’t be there for his past lover
enraged, the daughters cut contact
soon thereafter,
he returned to the bottle’s grip
until his body gave loose
when an unknown soul carries someone’s poison
and bears it to them as a gift
it kills an addict
two days sober
fifty-six years
washed away
but never lost, through our memory
Russell Alan Long
will be remembered eternally
as a father
By: Isabel M. Long
My heart hurts with you, for what the lines bear witness to. So much of what I collected this season of writing were lines about grief and loss and memory. There is a connection I feel in those lines. I lost my father just 2 months ago now. Several of your lines spoke to me. The italicized words drew my attention to particular ideas. Your last lines felt like a familiar pain. Hugs and I’m so sorry for your loss. Now and over the years of losing him.
Isabel,
First, thank you for trusting us w/ your story. It is heavy, but as you read the poems of others, you will feel understanding. Maureen,?for example, has written much about her mom.My mom was an alcoholic, so I share this pain. The standout line for me is “when you consider Father
harsher language
growing up in confusion and hatred
how would he have known love?”
That speaks to the cycle. And when each host says to write as you want, those aren’t just words, they are sincere. Sarah will tell you we don’t do rules, although at times I wish we did!!
Isabel, I am so sorry for the loss of your father and the course life took with so many challenges to overcome. I am thankful that your mother was tender in her care of you. These lines will stay with me
at times, our kind can’t seem to listen to their own wisdom…
when the tribulations of the earth are too complex
the purest of souls can be deeply scarred
Oh, so true, friend – and it is usually the purest who are the most affected. I am glad you are writing and telling your story and healing through the trauma.
I am sorry for your loss, Isabel ~ there is so much pain and so much beauty in this poem but this line is what I will remember most: the purest of souls can be deeply scarred. Wishing you peace.
Isabel, wow, there is so much here. The tone and emotion here is heavy and I hope for you cathartic. My condolences on a long and sad broken relationship with your father, and now in his death. My alcoholic father died when I was only seven, so I had only minimal time with him. There are so many powerful lines like: “but he found a twisted sanctuary within the poison.”
Isabel, it’s such a tender, aching piece full of hurt, but also full of the love people try to give even when they’re carrying their own wounds. I’m really moved by the compassion in the way you told this story, and I hope you’re being gentle with your own heart after experiencing all of that. Thank you for sharing your story with us.
Poems are ways we honor and witness as Glenda shared in her poem and referencing Forché. It is for the writer and reader, and we know some dimensions of your father through your words and in the white spaces that acknowledges there is more left unwritten, that a poem can’t contain a lifetime, but you do carry it within your hands that made this poem. Thank you for sharing.
Isabel, I’m commenting a day late b/c this caught my eye (and I noticed Glenda mentioned my name) Perhaps the saddest words for me wer
You had some rough parenting…oh my, the gifts with get from our imperfect parents. You have written a sad and healing poem, I think – and I hope you will continue to write into this legacy. The more I write about my folks, the more understanding and insight that emerges. (See, they are a gift!)
It’s been 30 days already?
Where did it go and why is time
Faster than a starving cheetah?
I spent 15 days of #verselove
Across the sea in Korea
Swimming with the women divers of Jeju
Who survive on kelp and sea breeze.
I’ve walked 30,000 steps across the streets of Busan
Watched a thousand golden wishes waving in the wind
Read a thousand words you’ve written
Filling me with wonder
At all the talent
How a unique combination of words bring power,
Healing and love.
Building Community.
Thank you to all who hosted and all who wrote and to you Sarah for your leadership. I’m grateful for this safe space to write rough poems, to be vulnerable and put my own weak words out into the world.
Wow, Emily! Our words cross the world with you. So wonderful!
Emily,
Thank you for bringing us with you.
Emily, so beautiful. It was lovely to read where you were for half of the month. Such interesting details of your time in Korea. “Watched a thousand golden wishes waving in the wind” is mesmerizing. I love the last lines of your poem too, and the appreciation of the talent here, the “unique combination of words bring power, Healing and love.” Yes, indeed!
Emily, like you I am always amazing how just moving words around people pack so much craft and wisdom into their poems: “How a unique combination of words bring power, / Healing and love. / Building Community.” Thank you for sharing.
Thousand golden wishes. Oh what a lovely way to think of poems and lines and verses floating around. Held and drifted away.
Thank you, Sarah! Thank you, inspiring hosts! This has been such a wonderful month of writing. It has truly been a place of respite for me in the midst of this crushing world.
I created a golden hinge poem (Angie, April 18th) using the last line of the fabulous poem by Kate Baer that Barb and Glenda shared yesterday.
How lucky we are to know a love like this
lucky to frolic together in verse and rhyme
we learned how words tendered
are little offerings of love and trust,
touching one another in surprising ways. I
know how precious is this gift of being held
and here I am at day thirty, filled with
love, energized by you, each of you, feeling
like the first of May will be a bit grey
THIS has been magical. Thank you, VerseLove!!!
I found I enjoyed the golden hinge as well!
I, too, will find
as these prompts, this space, all of the feedback is definitley life giving to me.
The daily offerings of poetry have given so much. I know I’ve been touched every day, as you say, in surprising ways.
Beautifully captured and feeling the magic within this poem, thank you!
Golden Hinge! Yes…one of my favorite new styles from this year’s writing! Loved spending time with you again, Maureen.
I agree…I also feel “like the first of May will be a bit grey.” I’ve enjoyed your poems and have felt all wrapped up in the poetry this month…comforted. Thank you for your poetry, your light, your words! This hinge poem opens smoothly and beautifully.
Maureen,
How lucky indeed!
It was hard for me to pick just a few lines. They all resonate so!
Thank you for this poem of celebration of our community of poets.
Maureen,
❤️💜 your poem and this form. Th as no you for acknowledging Baer and using mine and Barb’s line. You don’t have to stop writing daily. Join Barb, Kim, Denise and me. Share w/ us when you want. I think Sharon is going Stafford, too, You can email and/or text if you don’t want to IG,
Maureen, your hinge poem is wonderful. I must say that format was my favorite. I really like the line “we learned how words tendered” and the surprising ways in which we can touch each other through our offerings. Your last line is jubilant. What a wonderful way to close the month!
Maureen, thank you for this, and thank you for your “little offerings of love and trust” too. What a perfect quote for your golden shovel today.
Maureen, love it. Golden hinge has become popular here quickly. Your poem captures the spirit of this space,, and I share all the sentiments: THIS has been magical, indeed. Thank you!
Maureen, I am lucky to have been inspired and encouraged by your words. Thank you for all you do and for all you kind words.
Maureen. I am also a fan of this new-to-me form of hunger, and you allowed the form to hold your words beautifully in that corner anchor of lucky. Because I feel like this month happens theough sheer will but also luck and magic. Grateful for you.
After 30 prompts and 29 responses,
I see the ocean
and feel the salt, ehukai and pa’akai,
in our wounds, on skin,
in our eyes and on our lips.
After 30 prompts and 29 responses,
I wonder about how anyone can live
in a place not buffeted by the sea,
how anyone can stand unsalted,
uncured.
Jonathon, your imagery and metaphor is beautiful. I agree with you, I don’t know “how anyone can live not buffeted by the sea.” A sea of words, a sea of sharing, a sea of community.
This is magical. I can hear the waves. Thank you for sharing these beautiful words.
I’m with you as I’ve been lucky to always live near the sea or even on the sea in a sailboat for a time. It gets into our blood. I like how you add that its in our wounds and skin, our eyes and lips and how you elude to it being too, in our words.
Jonathon, you have brought me to the beautiful sea many times this month – and each trek has been glorious. Thank you!
how anyone can stand unsalted,
uncured.
what an image and how very true. I am sure people wonder how I can go a day without exercise or an evening without a nightcap, but I feel sad for those who don’t get to experience our space.
Jonathon…I needed to feel salt water on my skin again…in the air…hence my return from landlocked Kentucky to the northeast. I know myself enough to realize the importance of water and open skies. I agree with you completely.
Jonathan, I live near the ocean and try to be there at least once a week. It’s interesting that you mention the salt o wounds and skin. I am told that the salt itself is very healing.
Jonathan,
Thanks for bringing me to the sea today and many times this month with your beautiful imagery.
I live far from the sea, but I love these lines:
Jonathon, I love these lines:
“and feel the salt, ehukai and pa’akai,
in our wounds, on skin,
in our eyes and on our lips.”
They are visceral and unique. The “buffeted by the sea” is also contains so much sensory appeal. I do appreciate how you have added your landscape this month to many of your poems. Hope to see you again during Open Writes.
Jonathon, what an interesting reflection. I might be able to write a poem about how anyone can not live in the desert, and so I love that. That you are home where you are and the sea and Hawaii are such a strong part of your repertoire of poems. It was good to have you here this month.
Your words are taking like that ocean breeze, carrying me out to sea…for now. Thank you for all your kind words and fabulous poems
The visual imagery and wonder is fully captured within this poem. What a treat!
Oh, I hear the ocean. Thinking poems as salt on wounds, in eyes as what remains as shaping vision and feeling of what emerges or what stays submerged. I am pondering this metaphor of being unsalted and salted. Love this thread of thought. Glad you are here, friend.
the versifier pact
Farewell,
To my being,
Open for all seeing.
My brothers,
My sisters,
My fingertip blisters.
The abstract,
My true self,
My forever,
Until nothing is left.
Where I live,
Inside boned walls,
Bare and beautiful,
With so many flaws.
Connections,
With others alike,
In morning mist,
Or Crescent moon light.
Learning,
The forte of each mind,
Tangled creations,
Eloquently, unwind.
Unfolded,
From the past or
Branded in the now,
Foreseeable,
Patterns to learn,
To learn how.
Embrace,
Techniques of smooth versifiers,
Lyrics of the blessed,
In ethical amplifiers.
From,
Kasidy Fry’s first Old Pond,
And Glenda Funk’s bird of Kak,kak,kak,
The last is the front,
But,
We can always play it back.
The is no farewell,
Today,
Because we all have more to say.
I want to read more,
From Fran Haley and Stacey Joy,
Tracei Willis and Denise Krebs too,
There’s more to write, this is true.
All the poets,
With an array of talents,
A creation of imagination,
A beautiful balance.
A writing train,
All aboard,
Traveled from verse
To verse,
To chord to chord.
Passed,
Harmony mountain
And heart break hill,
Cried with pelicans,
And inhaled daffodils.
Planted words,
And harvested hymns,
Wrote about her,
Complained about him.
Braked
at remembrance oak,
Heard death,
laughed at jokes.
Headed round,
Onomatopoeia bend,
Some typed,
Others an ekphrasis pen.
Opened First Words,
But,
got interrupted,
So, we slammed some poetry
And kept on trucking.
Opened our mind,
With a Golden Hinge,
Grabbed the Haikus
To Begin Again.
Looked out visible glass,
As the train went by
memory pass.
Through the tunnel of revelations,
Before we felt braking vibrations.
Verse Trac came to a halt,
As,
We exit, leaving
Our thoughts in a thought vault.
Oh,
As I
viewed our pensive track,
We constructed thirty days back,
I am thankful be a part of the versifier pact,
Upon the rails where creativity was stacked.
April 2026,
Farewell,
Until we build the 27’ trail,
Stacking tale upon tale,
Verselove ready, set, sail!
I loved the whimsy and depth in your poem. I agree that everyone feels like a brother or sister in our community of writers.
I have enjoyed riding this train, setting sail, sharing memories! Your poem captures the action that was this month and that will carry us forward. Thank you!
I look forward to the 27′ trail, indeed – VerseLove is like an annual vacation. Thank you for weaving so many great memories of the month within your poem.
And that about captures it all, Boxer! Woot Woot. “Inhaled daffodils” and “harvested hymns.”
Boxer,
Your poem is ambitious and beautiful. Thank you for honoring our time together with your beautiful words of witness and appreciation. I love being able to see myself and our other poets here. Thank you!
I’m in awe of how you’ve captured the rhythms of our April.
Clayton!
Well done! Although that line about your fingers may be a tad hyperbolic! Love the physical *stepping* structure of your poem. Also, thanks for the shout out!
Boxer, Onward to 2027, and I already look forward to it! Love your structure and the way you spaced your stanzas and lines. And the nods to the community are powerful. And this may be my favorite stanza:
Embrace,
Techniques of smooth versifiers,
Lyrics of the blessed,
In ethical amplifiers.
Yes!!!
Clayton,
Thank you for creating and curating this beautiful poetry montage. I love the visual shape and flow — filled with movement and life.
Ah, Clayton, you really reflected on this whole month and group. I loved, “My brothers, my sisters, my fingertip blisters.”
You have captured so many of the prompts, so many of the topics of discovery we made like…
Well done!
This is just magnificent, Clayton! A generous and heartfelt tribute to “a versifier pact.” Here is to “the 27 trail”! Thank you!
Boxer, as always you have added whimsy and great style to your closing, for now, words. Thank you for all you do for this community and for your words which have helped me to grow and live in poetry this month.
Boxer…I always love your words, the way you string them, the rural imagery and dialect…you’re in Georgia and I’m in NC but when I read your poems, I am home. Thank you for the nod here, Dirt Road Mystic – it’s an honor. Here’s to the versifier pact!
Thank you for this lovely tribute. I don’t know how you get the spacing to hold but the shape of steps and ladders and layering works so well to capture in shape the many voices. And thank you for hosting a day. I feel your presences in poetry and responses fully here and am grateful for seeing the added dimensions of you this month more deeply. Thank you for hosting.
Thank you everyone! Writing, sharing, and learning from all of you was an uplifting experience for me.
Sharing poetry
gave me a community–
a place to belong
Melissa, you said exactly what I was thinking! I’ve enjoyed reading and writing with you this month.
Totally echo your sentiments and poem. Thanks for your contributions and writing.
Yes! I didn’t get to write this year as much as I have in years past but I really love this community and your haiku says it so well.
Beautiful haiku – and yes, I agree!
To belong is priceless.
Melissa,
Yes!
I so enjoy belonging here.
Melissa,
Indeed! This brief verse expresses our collective universal truth.
Melissa, I love your concise poem, showing just how important it can be to have a community to share our poetry. Lovely!
Melissa, I love this! I think the same thing. “Sharing poetry / gave me a community” – I am always invited people to join us here because it is so satisfying to be part of this community. Thank you for being here.
So glad you held belong in the last line here. However it means to you, feels good to you. And know you have shaped that for others.
Cheers, all. Tried to unite all 30 prompts in a 7-line poem, but ended up with nine lines (meow)(just call me a cat). I always look forward to this month as a way to commit to my love of language…a location to prioritize poetic distractions and to make excuses for all the other work needing to be done. I appreciate having opportunities to play and to read the creativity of others. Here’s to your year…I will see you again on April 1st (it summons fools like me each and every time).
A sincere tipping of the hat to Sarah once again and to all who walk hand-in-hand with her to share this vision.
Another April
in April, golden hinges hold kitchen kingdoms together with spices,
alliteration, and the last lines of forgiveness….an open invitation
to look around & compose our way into art — a great poetic slam.
living for #verselove: life gaining moments cascading clarity
to everyday emulations of love letters scribbled home (hogar).
we are the first sounds of haikus, dandelion deeds, & connectors
who press play amongst taxing matters while lining our dirty roads.
we are invisible wishes of (un)interrupted instruction,
who find closure (lose, loss, lost), today, within this new beginning.
Here’s to you all (y’all for my southern peeps). This is the work that matters.
That was a clever idea of uniting the prompts together. Your poem holds the weight of what our community of writers has accomplished this month. It “is work that matters.”
Beautifully captured! Thank you.
This is the work that matters. Thank you! It’s been a great month.
Bryan,
What a month — amazing poetics and connections. Thanks you for adding so much heart and brightness.
Pretty impressive uniting of the multitude.
Bryan,
Thank you for connecting all the prompts. Your remix, which flows—and overflows—so well, brings me joy.
Thanks for all your comments this month.
Bryan, I’m always better after reading your poems, and this day, after our month of writing together, you leave us with such hope~
Here’s to you all (y’all for my southern peeps). This is the work that matters.
Beautiful and a much-needed reassurance.
Brian,
I toast 🥂 to you and this celebration of poetry. Favorite lines: “we are the first sounds of haikus, dandelion deeds, & connectors
who press play amongst taxing matters while lining our dirty roads.” I think in figurative language and can’t help it. That’s just the way life is. Save some time for a f2f chat at NCTE. It will probably be my last.
Wow, Bryan, I am truly impressed by how effectively you’ve captured the month of prompts. I especially enjoyed “who press play amongst taxing matters while lining our dirty roads. ” There’s just something about that one that almost brings on the giggles. Brilliant and fun poem!
I love your mashup of our month of writing prompts. Clearly there is a method to your madness of assembly. I’m doubting you cut up words and tossed them to see where they’d land. Thanks for your sharing the order of your mind.
Bryan, it’s been a joy to write alongside you this month. I enjoyed all of your poems. This one is a gem too with all the prompts weaved in craftily 🙂
Bravo, Bryan! How did you manage to get all those prompts in here and it makes sense. Love the connections throughout, one poem, poet melding into the next. “This is the work that matters.” Beautiful!
Oh, so many beautiful turns of borrowed phrases here, Bryan. I love the way you shape and show you are shaped by the humans who share this month. Hugs.
No End
What the poems gave me
from encouragement and prompts
was awakening of something important
and an escape from trouble.
Writing poets giving me words of wisdom
and freedom without concern.
“Your poem reminds me to keep looking – – – and listening.”
“I was completely pulled into the images of your poem.”
As I rise up to the future
the rooster crows “the words have begun!”
and I know that nothing has ended here.
I can’t say enough thank-you’s for this month. Too all that have given prompts and to all that have written. I have loved the writing and the reading as well. Now I have to continue this routine!
This feels so good — your poem — No End is fitting and authentic. Thank you.
I’m so glad we are here together, writing and living and sharing. We will keep looking and listening, and we will rise to the writing rooster!
I love the image of the rooster crowing, spurring us on in our writing lives…waking us up to the words inside us. Thank you!
“awakening of something important” – I hope the days to follow find you writing into that awakening. Thank you!
Sue,
I love your poem which acknowledges so well the uplift of the comments we received and gave this month.
Thank you for your poems and your comments!
Susan, I am particularly struck by “an escape from trouble”. I love the rise up imagery in your closing stanza. Your poetry is always a delight to read.
I love the appreciation your words share. We will always remember April.
Susan, “As I rise up to the future / the rooster crows “the words have begun!” I’m just seeing that invitation to keep writing, and to celebrate the mornings with writing, for the words have truly begun. That is one of my favorite thoughts of the day. Thank you!
Love that phrase Rise up to the future here. It is a way of wishing the next and holding space for what it brings. Thank you foe being here.
Everyone here has changed me— maybe with a kind word, maybe with a reminder of my younger, teacher-self (those classroom poems opened so many doors to my heart), maybe with a angry rant about injustice (which had me clucking in solidarity) or maybe, simply, the sheer wonder that words can so fully nourish a hungry soul. Thanks to all of you. See you soon!
Gratitude
After walking the narrow,
snow-banked path of winter,
April sunlight widens the trail—
I take off my hat, the scarf wrapped
round my eyes—
I hear muffled playground sounds—
a kind word, an ache, a rage,
a song of remembrance and hope.
I see the brave parade of poets walking
beside me, kindred spirits always—
Ann,
I have really enjoyed your poetry throughout the month. This poem encapsultes our journey together in this communtiy. Will miss you, hope to stay connected. I am in NY as well.
What a lovely poem, walking us from winter into spring. I love the tiny details of hat and scarf and ache and rage
Oh, Ann! I do love a parade, and I feel grateful to have marched beside you this month. “Kindred spirits always” – yes!
I love this as a description of VerseLove ” April sunlight widens the trail” – thank you! Fabulous month of writing together.
I am keeping my scarf on my pillows. I hate morning light and have two skylights in my bedroom, so I tie that scarf around my head when the sun starts shining through. Love walking with you, too!
Oh yes! The brave parade of poets walking beside us wherever we go.
Love it!
The awakening that our poem community offers does come at a perfect time…to help us emerge from winter!
Your words wowed me every time. I made a special point to be cognizant of looking for your offering.
Ann,
Thank you for being a kindred spirit here in your poems and comments.
Ann, wow, I love the action within your poem. The image of walking the narrow in snow and then the sunlight of April is incredibly inviting. Taking off your hat and scarf adds to the sense that now something is being undone in a good way. Adding in the “kind word, an ache, a rage,/a song of remembrance and hope” is perfectly played. Your closing image of poets walking bravely as kindred spirits is ethereal. Truly outstanding poem!
Ann,
What a cathartic day of poetry this has been. I celebrate this shared reality: “I see the brave parade of poets walking
beside me, kindred spirits always—“
These lines have added significance for me because today I had a hysterectomy, and the people I wanted most to share this news with are my three close friends from this community: Barb, Kim H, and Denise. We began as strangers in online spaces and now are close confidants. And it’s all because of writing in TWT and here on EELA.
Thank you for sharing your gratitude. You begin bringing us to you and then remind us of all you read. Most importantly your remind us why we choose to spend our time this way.
Ann, I, too.am grateful for your words this month. It’s been so great to read “a kind word, an ache, a rage, / a song of remembrance and hope.” Thank you!
Oh, Ann, thank you for this poem of gratitude. I love the metaphor of these sounds on the playground of our writing: “a kind word, an ache, a rage, a song of remembrance and hope.” It is always a blessing to be able to write beside you. Thank you.
Dear Poets,
I have been on an emotional rollercoaster this entire month. Thank you, Sarah, for your opening #Verselove invitation and closing poem that has solidified our bond in writing. Today’s poem had me in tears… deep gratitude to Sarah, Denise, and all the hosts who prompted, connected, and supported us in our poetry life.
A special shout out to Barb and Leilya who became my mentors and guides. I am in awe of all of you poets who wrote with diligence, truth, creativity and sparked contagious care. Thank you to all that read poems and commented with such care.
#Verselove is a special place.. it has instructed and guided me in so many ways. I have truly enjoyed meeting so many gifted poets and thoughtful educators who are intelligent, compassionate, and funny– sometimes all at once. Reciprocity is an act of love and this space embodies that and some. Thank you again to this incredible community.
Aloha
Lines of verse
Like the moon that turns you back
Like the whispers that I/we could be gone
Like the home that turns you whole
It’s a kind
of love
isn’t it?
To commit
To enduring
Like the connective tissue
embodied
Despite, despite
This is beautiful, Darshna! I love the repetition of “[d]espite, despite” and the open-endedness of that final thought. Poetry — and this community — help stave off so many despites. Thank you for this!
Darshna, this is is an incredible image of the commitment to enduring and reading and celebrating words. I thank you for wonderful, inspiring poems, and your always generous comments.
Yes, committing to something is a kind of love. Mahalo for sharing your work with us
This is beautifully haunting…”Like the home that turns you whole.” I’ve enjoyed reading your words! Thank you!
Yes, yes – “It’s a kind/of love” – this is exactly where my heart is at, today. Thank you, Darshna!
Yes, this is it. To live….love writing with you from across the Sound!
Darshna,
Your poem is so tender.
Stunningly beautiful!
Thank you for your poems and supportive comments this month. Hope to see you back here in May!
Darshna, such a beautiful wave from the moonbeams and whispers, to the community that will continue on in May. I love your beautiful poetry and have enjoyed writing with you this month. Yes, it is a kind of love……and I love your final line!
Darshna,
You could do worse than Barb and Leilya as mentors. Barb and I share poems for feedback throughout the year. I tell her she’s my muse. I’m thrilled you joined us and hope to see you for a few days every month. Where do you teach? How did you find this group? How long have you been teaching? My post mind is nosy “like lines of verse”!
Hi Glenda,
I am glad that you are a co-conspirator and a co-creator! I teach at Nassau Community College, in Long Island, NY. I had signed up a couple of years ago through NCTE and this was my year. I look forward to returing and staying in touch. Thank you for asking.
Darshna, first of all, thank you for the kind shout out. I must agree with your fore note when you said, “Reciprocity is an act of love and this space embodies that and some.” That is so true and it takes love to commit as you show in your beautiful poem. I adore the title and the repetition of “despite”. I have enjoyed getting to know you through your poetry! Thanks for being such an engaging poet here! I hope you’ll be back next month for the Open Write.
Aloha, Darshna! It’s a poem filled with love and gratitude to the community. Poetry becomes “the home that turns you whole,” where we return daily.
It’s been great to get to know you through your words and poems this month. I hope we’ll be meeting here again in the future, or even in person if you go to NCTE conventions. Thank you for your kind and generous comments!
Darshna, you are a gifted poet. All the poems of yours I’ve read have stirred me and made me feel more deeply, and that is something beautiful in your poems. I love the wealth of similes in your poem, and the direct address to your reader, “It’s a kind of love isn’t it?” is so tender.
Darshna, yes, it is a kind of love, a commitment, connective tissue, despite despite – oh how well you’ve conveyed the VerseLove experience here! True confession: I didn’t think I had the “steam” for it this time, and I might have languished who knows how long if I hadn’t gotten a message from a fellow poet asking if I was okay, midway through the month, because I’d normally be here. That’s noticing. That’s caring. That’s poetry coming to life – “like the moon that turns you back…like the home that turns you whole.” So perfect. I love this beautiful, beautiful poem, and it has been a pure delight to write and share alongside you these past couple of weeks. I am grateful for your words!
Darshna, I feel the individual lines of your poem much like the individuals in this group and the home turning you whole like the place where our writing comes to live. It is a kind of love that exists and strengthens despite, despite. Your poetry has inspired me this month. I’m so glad to have met you here.
Funny, isn’t it? This month of verse is
both short and long, both quick and
slow (difficult to explain, to articulate,
you know?) expansive and nourishing,
life-giving, in fact, but also tiring, wonderfully
exhausting, really (and I know you know
this, too) sharing parts of ourselves, holding
these weights together, bearing witness,
(all of it) is worth so, so much, (so much)
and as I am (sometimes) wont to do
(most of the time really), I use humor
as deflection, a bulwark of sorts, or
as support, a stanchion if need be, or
as distraction (because, you know,
[gestures broadly]) so, I’ll end this
poem of gratitude for this fellowship,
this community of verse and hope
by saying I’ll need a moment to
recuperate after this month, (a
bit more than a moment since
that’s only 90 seconds if medieval
timekeepers are to be believed)
and I invite, implore you even,
that you should take a break, too,
in fact, take two, you deserve it
and I just came into a rather large
shipment of KitKat bars that I’m
willing (and eager) to share with you
(just don’t let anyone know you
got ‘em from me)
_______________________________________________
Sarah, thank you for this site, for your care and attention to all of us (and I love your poem that you crafted from bits and pieces this month – I’m honored to be a part of it!). And thank you to all our hosts and commenters this month! You have helped me become a better poet in ways that I can’t even begin to explain. (And, a special shoutout to Denise for keeping the lights on behind the scenes!)
And I just reread the prompt with “the ask” of keeping our offering to 8-12 lines. Sorry, I’m bad at directions, lol.
Oh, and if anyone wants to learn more about the “Kit Kat Heist” last month you can find out more here.
Your humor- I’ve enjoyed it so much this month. If I lived near you, I would definitely take a KitKat,one of my favorites.
Scott,
I am going to miss your poetry and you! Love the KitKat bar as a parting or partying gift:)
Scott,
Thank you for your humor, your historical and literary tidbits—love the nod to medieval timekeepers. Thank you also for your kind words and for the kitkat. When we were kids our Dad would sometimes buy us each a candybar when he did the grocery shopping. Kitkat was always my pick. So thanks for that memory, too!
Scott, your poem is great and certainly captures the many complex emotions everyone feels, I really do thank you for your humor and ability to find some humor in this crazy world of ours. I am a dark chocolate snob, so I am going to treat myself to that and let you share the Kit Kats with others.
Scott, you are always a light in a very dark world. Your poems are a gift to us each day, ones you share willingly (much like KitKats), despite the honesty in the sometimes (or often in my case) struggles to write. Thanks for keeping the pace and writing the words.
Wonderful to write alongside you, Scott! I agree it is “wonderfully /exhausting” – just a fabulous month.
KitKat’s please. I’ve been thinking about them a lot since I’m reading The Extremely Embarrassing Life of Lottie Brooks right now. (Her love is KitKat Chunky’s which must be a UK thing? Or am I really missing out here?) I love your line here about holding these weights, bearing witness. I am always so nervous to put my words out for all to read, but then also, grateful to be pushed and for the forgiving and kind community here.
KitKats, huh? Good to know. Always wonderful to read the humor, Scott (and I love the parenthetical, too). Best of luck with your year ahead. I’m heading into a pinball machine and am ready for someone to insert quarters and bang my metal round head around for a while. I need that change of pace.
I truly appreciate your wit and intellect. I assume you are usually deflecting, which k wish I could do more. I tend to lean into my angst a little too much.
🎶 Give me a break!
Scott, always love your humor and your creative formatting that gets me thinking and looking vertically and diagonally and all ways. I’m definitely down for some Kit Kats and will look forward to seeing you in May.
Scott, humor is one way of surviving, and your poetry is often full of clever puns and wry humor that is truly uplifting. I really appreciate your stage directions in this one and to find out about the KitKat bars was illuminating. You must read weird news or something along that line, but what a fascinating story. To think the mafia might have absconded with the KitKat bars. Hope you get a good rest after today.
Haha, Scott, so fun. Your comments after your poem are always fun to read too. Love the KitKat heist you obviously pulled off. So funny. Yes, please, I would love a Formula 1 car-shaped Kit Kat. Who wouldn’t?
I love that in spite of your humor, you also bring in your heart and vulnerability in sweet and subtle ways…This made me smile.
Scott, your poems gave me a break to catch a breathe, to pause and smile, to enjoy the word plays. Thank you! No KitKat for me; I will bake for students next week 🙂
Sarah, I am very grateful for this community of educators that share drafts bravely and encourage each other graciously. I started to try to do what you did and thank those whose words made a difference, but there are too many of you and my poem of gratitude was endless. I’ll try to do some thank you notes in comments but please know your words really do matter.
After this month of poeming,
Love this new word, wanes, I am
Reminded that written words are potent,
Empowering communication tools for mortals,
Wishing we could use this approach for embracing
Writers in schools with intense, risk-free experiences,
Thankful for the encouragement to take this risk, to
All who noticed my voice and drafts as valid,
Energized by thinking as one might feel after a
Completing a great book or marathon while
Planning to return to read, learn, grow, share,
Perhaps, maybe even host a day in the future.
Thank you, Anita, for being so generous & encouraging this month. And thank you for mirroring what I’ve been feeling — the energy, the gratitude, the empowerment. In a very real way, I’ve felt this way this month because of you : )
Yes, we are reminded.
Anita,
Thank you for your terrific poetry and thoughtful comments. Your poem captures so much of what I am feeling too.. beautiful reminder of you.
I particularly enjoy the way you have structured this piece around key ideas of remembering, wishing, thinking, and planning for the future
Anita,
I feel this joy, renewal and gratitude!
Yes, please to you, hosting soon.
Thank you for “noticing[ing] my voice” and for your kind comments.
Anita, the community has been blessed to have you here in this space writing and reading and sharing your life with us. I like your chosen structure today, the I am with the list of gratitudes and inspirations. I hope you will host a day! Sarah has recently released the sign-up sheet, and there are many of us who will gladly help in any way we can – don’t hesitate to reach out! I share your feelings on the all the lines of your poem, especially feeling like it’s the marathon finish. See you in May, friend, and in Slice of Life, too!
Anita, I love your idea of using this approach with writers in school. We do need more risk-free experiences although I do think sharing here is a type of risk-taking. Love the way you have emphasized your poem’s internal message. “Wishing, Thankful, Energized” are my favorites. Thanks for sharing your poetry throughout the month. I have enjoyed reading your work:)
Anita,
I am so glad you’re here, and you absolutely should sign up to host a day next April and maybe a day another month. I am here to support and offer feedback if you want some. I’ll kit kid you, hosting is work but very gratifying.
Anita, yes, yes to hosting a day in the future. That was so fun to read. You will love it, friend. I like your use of bolded words, which highlighted for me the “I ams” of your poem. Wouldn’t that be great if all writers in schools could have these “intense, risk-free experiences”? I loved those lines.
Anita, I, too, feel like there are so many people I want to thank, and I am overfilled with gratitude. You have been such a vital, generous, kind, and supportive poet, writer, colleague, and friend in this space. I notice your thoughtful comments to not only my poems, but so many others every day. I saw your words and heard your voice. Thank you!
Anita, I do hope you will host a day in the future; you are a great inspiration and incredible encourager. I love this word “poeming” too – and yes, to what heights could writers in school rise with such an opportunity vs. what’s called “writing” in schools. I just so happened to put first graders’ poetry up in the hallway today – I’d had them choose their theme and form (they chose to write free verse, story poems, rhyming poems, and concrete poems) which I printed and pasted on leaves, to make a “poet-tree.” In a word, joy. Know that your words matter immensely, too. I admire you, your courage, your craft, and all your supportive comments. Thank you for it all!
Thank you, Sarah, for hosting today and for your beautiful poem of witnessing and connection.
Thank you, Sarah, for creating EthicalELA, providing and organizing an amazing space for teacher poets to write and connect.
Thank you to all the Verselove hosts and poets for the creative prompts, beautiful poems, and thoughtful and encouraging comments.
I began my daily poetry writing habit with EthicalELA on April 2nd, 2024. (I forgot to write on April 1st!) Writing a poem each day is a habit which has guided me through the dying and death of my mother, my grief, my retirement from teaching, daily joys and struggles.
Writing in community with EthicalELA makes me a better poet and a happier person.
When my Aunt Mary passed in the middle of this month, poetry was there for me. I was able to feel and write about my grief in ways that I don’t think I would have been able to if I did not practice writing poetry every day. And you, Verselove poets, were there for me, reading, writing, commenting, supporting, sending love.
I am so grateful for our caring community of poets.
I’m going to miss our connection of reading, writing and commenting together each day in April.
My daily poems are richer when written in community with the poets of EthicalELA.
See y’all on May 16th!
In the meantime, take care.
Love,
Sharon
Pedaling Poet
—————————————————————————————
together
together
we wrote grief
from deep love
we wrote of
unspoken
present war
yellow birds
flew across
our linked poems
Sharon, thank you for this wonderful “thank you note” that is so much better than my attempt today. You have captured so much about this community and the way it embraces each other. I really to thank you also for all the heartfelt sharing and kind messages.
yellow birds — the brightness, the motion, the natural strength of each of us. You were a big part of that for me, Sharon. Big hugs, and happy May!
Sharon,
I appreciate your astuteness, creativity, and thoughtfulness that embodies a deep care in your writing. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better through your poetry. Thank you for your encouragement and support.
Sharon, I’m so glad your poem included yellow birds…a glimpse of hope and happiness as we wrap up this month of writing together. I’ve loved reading all your poems and hope to read more and more and more.
Sharon,
So glad you joined this month. You’re my War and Peace whisperer, too. Much truth in these words: “Writing a poem each day is a habit which has guided me through the dying and death of my mother, my grief, my retirement from teaching, daily joys and struggles.”
Keep peddling and poeming!
Sharon, wow, this is such a stunning poem. I love the focus on love, war, grief and then those yellow birds linking our poems. Thank you for sharing your wonderful craft here.
Sharon, your tricube is lovely. “wrote grief / from deep love” What a beautiful image. I also love the surprise of the yellow birds.
Sharon, I am just getting to your poem after a ling work day. I appreciate your words, love your images (yellow birds across the poems), and am grateful for your generous comments. Love and peace to you! Take care of yourself and keep pedalling ❤️
Sharon, I emailed you my poem to your gmail address 🙂
After Eight Poems
Though I did not write as much as others
I have appreciated this journey
I have felt my writing getting better.
Answering prompts that resided within me
Voicing my experiences and my thoughts.
Facing this journey head-on
I will remember these poems
As I continue this journey of life.
Kasidy,
This is so beautiful and moving.
Voicing my experiences and my thoughts.
My favorite lines that tells me you will keep writing and sharing.
Thanks so much for joining us this month, Kasidy! So glad you found the journey fruitful!
Kasidy,
Reading your poem, I feel a sense of shared pride bubbling up. Thank you for capturing our shared writing experience so well.
Lovely!
kasidy, I fell like every day someone talks about this experience as a journey and our poems as drafts. In this community, it seems to me, your responses are just as valid and your words equally important. Wonderful reflection. I’m going to remember this poem too.
Kasidy, peace and joy to you as you continue this “journey of life.” I love that poetry is part of it with you. I like “Answering prompts that resided within me.” I feel like that sometimes when I see the prompt, an idea comes so quickly, like the prompts did already reside within.
After twenty-eight poems I shared with you
though there were about forty written,
a dozen still resides secretly within my soul.
Ahead of this journey
I wondered
did I have thirty ideas
floating in my head?
I decided to be brave.
April showers brought
Cleansing, understanding,
Deeper love.
Maraming salamat!
Hi Cayteana, thank you for sharing this poem with us. I agree that when I started this journey, I didn’t know if I would be able to complete the prompts needed. I didn’t think I would have good ideas. Thank you for sharing your poems with us!
Thank you for sharing your poems all month. I am with you in that I had to bring forth my own bravery to begin this challenge. This line “April showers brought cleansing, understanding and deeper love” rings true for this poetry journey.
Caytena,
I have enjoyed your poems and slices of your teaching life. I love the last line
as it embodies your culture and spirit. Thank you.
Cayetana, thank you for sharing this amazing journey. I appreciate the always thoughtful nature of your poems and your always kind comments.
Thank you for sharing your poetry! I agree that April showers blessed us this month-what a wonderful idea…April showers of poems!
You spoke it true- Bravery is what we need to write our words and especially to share them. Thank you for yours.
Cayetona,
I’m so glad you
I’ve so enjoyed your poems this month and appreciated your comments.
Hope to see you here in May!
Cayetana,
This is wonderful. I’m so glad you came and wrote forty poems! Wow. I love the line “I decided to be brave.” That last stanza is a magical interpretation of April showers. Perfect.
Walang anuman!
Friends,
I am 7 hours ahead on open seas where cell and wifi (too expensive) will prevent me from reading-responding until we get closer to land. Enjoy the day.
Peace,
Sarah
I’ll remember April
as a long stretch of road,
new growth emerging in the concrete cracks
a seesaw on the playground, where
I run back and forth
stacking words that add just enough weight
a flat tire to remind me
I have enough hot air to get me wherever I need to go
a compost heap in the town square,
the community bringing a shovel, a bucket, or a bin’s worth of material
a living room window, halfway open
enough to breathe in the exhales
and let it all out
Love this half open phrase to make space for what is still to come. Wonderful.
Rachel, the imagery you’ve chosen is perfect to capture the variety of emotions this month has brought. I love your ending.
Thank you for sharing. Love this image you created- “a seesaw on the playground, where I run back and forth stacking words that add just enough weight.” So true that we think about the power of each and every word as we add it to our poems.
Rachel,
The imagery and details lay it all out. So fun and beautiful.
Rachel,
I will carry this metaphor with me:
So reassuring! Thank you!
Rachel, this is a great concrete image of the energy and drive one needs to do this with all the other :stuff” that must happen as we navigate life. The image of this community with our shovels and buckets is powerful!
I love the opening lines…well, the whole thing really but there is something about growth emerging in concrete and stacking words that just resonates with me. The images are striking…compost heap, bucket, bin, living room window. The combination is just lovely.
Rachel, this is so fun. I love the title, and this image made me smile and think extra time: “stacking words that add just enough weight” Beautiful!
The most heartfelt thing for me to say is thank you. Thank you to all the hosts who inspired us. Thanks you to everyone who wrote a poem. Thank you to everyone who wrote comments. Thank you to everyone who read a poem.
I wrote a cento, gathering only a few lines –
there were so many more lines that touched me. Often, throughout this month, I was overwhelmed by the poetry. I felt it very deeply.
Poems Break the Silence
We say we are fine,
as if silence can keep us safe. (Leila)
Tell the truth from the dark. (Kim)
Say in a whisper,
The hurt inside me has floated away. (Lori)
I, myself,
groan for all things remade. (Gavriel)
Our world is a sideways place…
Look where the poems bloom. (Glenda)
So many wonderful words of renewal and growth in float, remade, blooms. Congratulations on a beautiful month.
Diane, your poem has a haunting quality, but you’ve somehow turned it into something hopeful. Well done!
Diane,
I love what you’ve created here with so much truth. I admire your deftness and preciseness in your poetry. Thanks for writing and commenting all month.
Diane,
Your cento is so strong.
Thank you for bringing these words back to us, making something more, by bringing them together.
What a beautiful reflection of our time together and how we have helped each other to heal and grow.
Diane, your words today, and always, capture so much that swirls in my head and does not always make it out. I am very thankful for your wonderful stewardship and always thoughtful comments this month. I really consider you one of my mentor poets,
Diane, your poems bring strength and grace to this community, and I’m so glad y ou have been here with us this month, writing and reading and sharing. I like the way you used lines of others and incorporated them into your own poem. Yes, the hurt inside floats away, and we can look where the poems bloom. I like that last line as a picture book collection of children’s poems with magnificent watercolor illustrations popping with fun.
Diane, it has been a joy to read your poetry this month. Tears sprang to my eyes when I read this one. Thank you.
Diane, this is a beautiful collection from several voices that all seem a collective. Like Anna’s fingers in a single glove. Poems Break the Silence is a fitting and powerful title.
Diane, thank you so much for a shout out in your cento poem today. I enjoyed reading your poems throughout the month. Thank you for your kind comments and consistent presence in this space. hope to read more of your poems.
Thank all of you for this month. This month has changed me for the better through your prompts, poems, comments and insightful thoughts. You are a very special group of people and I am thankful to have been a part of this. I looked back through the 17 poems I was able to write this month and noticed what was the topic of each response. Some topics and poems totally surprised me and led me to places I didn’t expect. I had taken a break from writing poetry and decided to step back in with this challenge. I am so glad I did. It allowed me to see how much poetry impacts my life in all that brings me.
Bared and Beautiful in Ink
A monthly odyssey
began with tentative steps
plus a reminder to give myself grace
if I stumbled along the way.
Each word-packed step
led me deeper into the exposed landscape of self-
traipsing through spacious backyards of childhood memories defining me to my core,
plodding through shadowed, bleak forests grown through grief, pain and loss,
requiring rest upon the scar-covered boulder of cancer,
revived by the compassionate comments and support,
persevering through the unknown forms around each bend,
marching my passionate protest voiced in rhythm and power,
jaunting through wildflower fields filling my senses, recording beauty surrounding me
returning to peace in my current place.
Gazing over a vista
of words that
relived me,
found me,
drive me,
expose me,
bared
and
beautiful.
Oh, what a lovely reflection of and in poetry. I will hold onto this bouquet of wildflowers.
Hi! This was a beautiful poem. Reflecting on this month of poetry. Thank you for sharing your poems with us.
Your poem feels cathartic and emblematic of your poetic journey. Thank you for sharing your perseverance, compassion, and wildflowers. You brighten us.
THIS, is an amazing image of this month of writing. “gazing over a vista of words” is a phrase I have jotted into my book of quotes, which my son is my most nerdy corner of my life, and I say gives me hope for tomorrow. Your words are powerful
CM,
I’m so glad you returned to the land of poetry this month. I’ve enjoyed your poems and appreciated your comments.
These lines of yours resonate with me:
I love the structure of your poem, moving from a density of feelings and memories to a lighter, more spacious core of essence
Cathy, wow. This is so gorgeous. I love how your tentative steps “Each word-packed step” led you to such wonderful verbs! So much growth and wonder. That last stanza is beautiful too.
Well, we couldn’t end on an easy prompt, could we? The beauty of this month has been in the unexpected joy of discovery, the connection found in lines that resonate so deeply that they feel as though they settle in your bones or your soul, the ones that make you feel like you have a new best friend or a new wise aunt/uncle…this community and the absolutely amazing poems have been such a site of healing and celebration this month.
Trying to figure out how to phrase that was hard. I found that I had collected two different sets of lines–ones about grief and loss and ones that celebrate writing. So, I thought for the final writing, I would choose something focused on celebrating writing. I pulled a stanza from one of Ann’s poems because it was one that inspired me to write/journal that day.
Inspiration:
Ann says,
“I love that when April comes, there’s a place
where pews and benches,
roads and bridges
are built by poets
who welcome me into personal sanctuaries
of hope and healing. “
After Twenty-Six Poems, I Feel It in My Bones
the vibrant hum of voices not my own, now mine.
We built something here—
not walls, but roads,
leading outward into places I didn’t know I needed.
Bridges stretched between lines and lives,
carrying me toward ideas I had not yet named.
We sat together—on pews and benches we made ourselves,
in unexpected sanctuaries shaped from breath and listening—
and named what hurt without turning away.
Connection held us long enough to believe again—
that hope could be spoken
and healing might follow.
I love this exchange of ownership, belonging, borrowing, embracing, bridging. I could go on. I feel it all and am so grateful to learn new dimensions of you and your life this month.
Ok Melanie…this poem made me cry…like I sent a bottle with a note inside out to sea and it bounced back with glistening shells inside.
Melanie,
I appreciate how connected this poem feels– from the title onwards… I especially love the themes and words you’ve bolded. They deserve a special place literally and figuratively. Thank you.
Melanie, the “vibrant hum of voices” is an image that certainly conveys this community’s vast flow of words from so many diverse perspectives. I applaud your imagery of roads and bridges to the sanctuaries where we share and I too feel more hope for mankind than I did a month ago. I am glad you are here.
Melanie! I just got goose bumps! These are words to hold close and remember. Thank you! I’ve so enjoyed reading and knowing your poems this month.
Oh, Melanie, I love the inspiration you got from Ann, and your compelling poem is just beautiful and honoring of her inspiration. Those last three lines just made me get goose bumps and cry a little. The belief that “hope could be spoken / and healing might follow” is just so beautiful!
Melanie, I am reading about your “unexpected sanctuaries” (sanctuary being a favorite word of mine) after Luke’s and Wendy’s poem mentioning grace and Susan A.’s mentioning a rare and sacred place…yes, VerseLove is all of these, and the voices do sink into our bones. How powerfully you rode the wings of Ann’s poem to bring us even more inspiration! It is just beautiful. Thank you for being here and for all the word-offerings you’ve given in poem and in comments here in this special and healing place.
So many thanks to everyone who makes this community possible. I can’t believe April is ending already!
a poetic gift
means so much more than written
words- our hearts are full
This is beautiful. The idea of “a poetic gift” is lovely and that it ends with our hearts being full so completely sums up the month of writing/feels.
Lovely, Mo. You are a gift.
Hi Mo! “Poetic gift” is beautiful and a great way for us to end this month of poetry feeling so full in the heart.
Poetry is a gift, isn’t it? Your haiku is perfect.
Mo,
This hits a sweet spot! Thank you for your poetry and all the brightness you’ve shared this month.
Mo, thank you for all you do for this community and for your ability, to day, and most days, to succinctly say the most intense thoughts that expand upon reading them. Your posts and comments and leadership are gifts.
Yes, Mo,
Thank you for your lovely poems and enthusiastic comments this month.
See you in May!
Mo, “a poetic gift” is exactly what your poetry brings to my own heart. Thank you for sharing your craft and being so kind when responding to my work. I appreciate you! Hugs!
Mo, thank you for all your poetic gifts this month. They are a special gift. “our hearts are full” Amen! It is always good to be here with you.
Mo, this is exactly what I feel today – a heart filled with words, gratitude, love. Thank you!
I cannot thank you all enough. I didn’t know how much I needed you all, and I don’t know that my comments each day captured how grateful, how in awe I am of this community of writers. Big hugs, and if any of you are in Dallas hit me up (JoelRGarza @ gmail). As always, I post things here. Enjoy the Artemis II NASA image from April 6, 2026.
Full circle
We began on a full moon,
each craft choice bright, round, revealed.
We fought the darkness each day,
the muse shadowed by ourselves
alone. Then G-d’s fingernail
appeared just before the night
at its darkest. Day by day,
we know now, waxing, waning,
the circle is unbroken.
Trust me—unbroken, always.
Now, once again, the full moon
to light our path, step by step.
We have a 98% full moon here in Norway today/night. Love how we are back there and reflecting the beginning in the first line of your poem. I am grateful fpr the “we” repeated in your lines. The collective path and steps weve taken that are fuller because we are also each and I choosing to be here.
This is lovely Joel…the muse shadowed by ourselves…is a line to onto…
Joel,
I love the moon and all the phases along with what’s happening within this poem.
Trust me—unbroken, always.
favorite lines as it mirrors our community.
Appreciate your attention to details and deep reading of poems. It’s been wonderful connecting through your writing.
Joel, what a beautiful connection to share with us–the waxing and waning reflecting our own journey over 30 days. Circles hold much within their edges and offer much in return. Knowing we were held together within this lunar circle feels spiritual and powerful. I’m glad to have gotten to know you through your poetry here this month. Thank you for the connections you made and the holdings/offerings you shared.
Joel, your words are mesmerizing! This poem, like the moon, shines. Thank you!
I am very glad you area here and sharing words and images of hope and encouragement. See you soon, but not likely in Texas
Joel, this makes me think of the Grand Ole Opry song May the Circle Be Unbroken – – just like all of us, and that stage where all the greats once stood was taken to the new Opry when they built it (as a circle) – – it makes me smile to think that we are engaging in verse today as living poets where those poetry ancestors have once written, right on the page. Your lunar cycle brings a joy of the circle of belonging.
Joel, this image of the moon in your poem is such a beautiful and generous metaphor for what happened here this month. “the circle is unbroken.” Lovely!
Sarah, the poems I wrote this month seem to feature the joys of teaching and teaming, so that’s the “theme” of my poem this closing day of yet another month with you and our colleagues. I got to play with a couple of words, making this another interesting adventure!
Teaming into a Glove
Writing about teaching
Seems like an act of pride
Well, in fact it is!
I’m proud to be reaching
While with you, I’m writing
Yes, my heart is beaming
VerseLove is seaming
Us together while teaming.
Though somewhat of a chore
It’s really not the score
It’s the love, sent from above
Through our poems
Each day, along the way
Like fingers in a single glove.
I love the celebratory feel of this poem. The joy in the lines, the joy in the teaching, the joy in the writing! The rhyming adds a layer to the poem that gives it a beat and a rhythm that feels like a heartbeat. Thank you for this!
Thank you, Anna. Many fingers have been at work this month, indeed.
like fingers in a single glove…what a beautiful line!
Anna,
Appreciate the positivity that you radiate, this poem has the rhythm and love. Thank you.
Anna, your focus on teaching and teaming is commendable. Your first line suggest to me you are a master teacher: “Writing about teaching seems like an act of pride.” I am still shocked by those who merely follow the given plan and leave with the bell.
Anna,
I’ve enjoyed your rhymes focused on teamwork and teaching all month.
I’ve appreciated your positivity in both your poems and your comments.
Anna!
I ❤️❤️❤️ this! Like you, U am proud to be a teacher and proud to write and teach about that. “I’m proud to be reaching” with you! You are fierce!
Working together, teaming up, “Like fingers in a single glove.”
Anna, I admire your enthusiasm, joy, and positivity throughout this month and this celebration of teaming. This is a golden line, and I might quote it once or more:
“Like fingers in a single glove.”
Thank you!
Ahhh, how perfect! I love this. And is it just me or is it flowing like a spoken word piece?
👏🏽 👏🏽 👏🏽
a bombastic silence
a glorious whisper
hidden clarities
beautiful pain
brave vulnerabilities
strangers/family
dark days and bright nights
plain words with ambiguous meaning
emphemeral permanance
amorphous words with pinpoint purpose
such empathy, encouraging embraces from the horde
the screen emits blue light and caring grace
at the same time
daily devotion
genius from so many
carefully carrying the lightless, heavy weight
of all strangers/friends
individual value, collective strength
holding tight to things that can never be held
in our minds, tangible words that can never be erased
#verselove 2026
What I appreciate are the unexpected pairings you put here–ephemeral permanence, blue light/caring grace, lightness/heavy weight, individual value/collective strength. This word play drives home the community nature of the writing here and celebrates both your ability to notice it and to write about it in such a way that it recreates the magic for us as the readers.
Yes, Great last line in the way we carry the words and memories with us. A permanence is a lovely word for this.
As one of those strangers/friends, Luke, I want to thank you for bringing value, for giving me strength, for bringing permanence to these artful words all month long : )
Some really great lines to carry with me, Luke…ephemeral permanence,..blue light and caring grace…holding tight to things that can never be held…I agree with alll you wrote!
Luke,
Your poems and comments have delighted my senses and sensibility. So many gorgeous and perfect words filled with imagery and action. It’s been wonderful to get to know your poetry within this community. Thank you.
Luke, your poem filled with contradictions bounces through my mind creating images of words and poems I have read from you and others that linger, like the “tangible words that can never be erased” Thank you for your fabulous voice.
Luke, your word choices provide such rich description and make me stop and think about the varied ways these April poems have made an imprint on my heart. I’ve loved reading your thoughtful words, so eloquently shared, throughout this month. “Individual value, collective strength” – yes! Thank you!
Luke,
I love this:
I continue to be amazed by the depth of our connections here as
Thank you for your beautiful poems. and supportive comments this month..
Hope to see you in May!
Luke, what images here…”brave vulnerabilities”, “the screen emits blue light and caring grace” and “carefully carrying the lightless, heavy weight / of all strangers/friends” and those last three lines. (I keep wanting to cut and paste all my favorites, but there are too many.) Such beautiful imagery and truth about Verselove. Thank you!
Thank you for writing, reading, and responding this month, Luke! This is what resonates today the most: “carefully carrying the lightless, heavy weight.”
Luke, how magnificently you pair these paradoxical words to accurately summarize the VerseLove experience! For the record, ephemera is is one of my favorite words; I cannot even say why, other than it feel like a poem all by itself. The pairing here that struck me most is “beautiful pain.” The image of the screen causing harm and offering grace continues it. Thank you for sharing your amazing craft and also for the uplifting comments. I am grateful for all of it.
Melaine, Sarah, Joel, Ann, Darshna, Anita, Lori, Sharon, Denise, Leilya, Fran and every single one of you that has read, written, contributed in any way at all this poetry month. Thank you and bless you
Thanks for another great April to Sarah and to everyone who participated in VerseLove!
After 27 poems,
OCD tendencies
whisper, “Finish
them ALL.”
And the fact
that I didn’t
respond to ALL
the poems on
“my day”
(and, sometimes,
to nobody’s)
nags my brain,
while the Angel
on my shoulder
(sounds suspiciously
like Sarah)
urges me to
take a
breath
and
give
myself
grace.
Oh, this poem made me feel so seen. I, too, struggled with not writing every day, not finishing every prompt. I love the structure of your poem and how you pulled in both your feelings and the different ideas raised.
Yes, grace. And even power in that permission. A practice. Love the 27 and maybe love those 3 resting somewhere more. Hugs.
Wendy, “[T]ake a breath / and / give / [yourself] / grace.” Yes, I agree 100%: you deserve it! [And I love the idea that “the Angel / on [your] shoulder / (sounds suspiciously / like Sarah),” lol.]
Wendy, I missed a few too and felt a nagging in my brain that I didn’t respond more when my heart was moved but my brain tired. Thanks for capturing the moment.
Wendy.
Love this poetic genius that captures the truth, the heart, the nags, and more importantly grace. We need that reminder, sigh. Thanks for writing and sharing.
Wendy, I can hear Sarah reminding us all to give ourselves grace. Forgive all the things peppering your conscience and listen to that voice – – as Sarah would also say, this group is here to meet us where we are. Some days are just easier than others to write and comment, while life and emotion overtakes the others. I’m so glad you are in this community and always encouraging others with beautiful poems and comments.
Wendy, I share your frustration with not getting to read or comment on them all as well as missing publishing a few day, myself. I appreciate the grace of this community. Thanks for the reminder today.
I love hearing your voice right through the screen with this poem. Yes, give yourself grace! We’d all be wise to listen to that angel. Your poems have been such a blessing to read this month. Thank you!
Wendy, I appreciate your honest reflection of this month. I think grace is the best gift. You’re not the only host that didn’t respond to my poems so don’t be too hard on yourself. At least you were able to comment on the early bird poems rather than none at all.
Wendy,
Yes, each person deserves grace from others and from themselves, but I do have a caveat: grace we give ourselves should never become a way to rationalize. Nine hosts did not comment on my poem on their day. Nine. Nearly a third. My knee-jerk response was to skip them, which I did not, I do acknowledge a struggle w/ the drop and run poets (looking at Kevin who commented on only one poem all month) and with those who post early when the lion’s share of commenting happens only to wait to return many hours later. But I’m not the queen, and I must focus on the many gifts I get from this community, including poems like yours today that touch my heart deeply. Peace and Love to you, friend.
Wendy, I love the angel on your shoulder instead of the nagging. “give myself grace” Yes, please. Such a great reflection for you on your oh-so-busy month with your trip to California wedged in there.
Wendy, take a break! Love you ❤️
Wendy, I was just reading others’ poems about grace – we offer it to others so much more than to ourselves. I am laughing aloud at that parenthetical reference to Sarah as the Angel tapping on your shoulder but I have reason to believe you might be right! Thank you for this gem of a poem – I know they don’t always feel polished but your poems are so often a wonder and a salve. Really and truly. This is a trying season for me but I want you to know how very much I appreciate you and your words!
Sarah, thank you for creating and sustaining this space. Thank you for allowing me to host and step out of my comfort zone. Fellow poets, thank you for traveling with me on my grief journey and encouraging me with your compassionate comments. While I didn’t complete 30 poems, I will return to the ones I missed and work on them later. I wrote about “What this month left in me.”
April
Began with excitement
apprehension
Could I do it?
Midway with realization
resignation
I could only do
what I could do.
Ending with gratitude,
new perspective,
the support of a wonderful
community of poets,
new poetic formats,
words of encouragement,
and a full heart.
I am proud of what I did.
Yes. Grace for what you’ve made and for what you’ve let rest. We love both and all without judgment. Let poetry serve you never burden. So grateful for you and your poetry this morning th and always.
Thank you for your poems and this one today. It has lifted me up and feel gratitude and love.
Rita, you are an amazing contributor who writes in spite of so much on her heart and plate. I am today and always impressed with your strength and poems. I find the grace of this community to do what you can do a gift in and of itself. Thank you for all you kind words and the model poet you are for me.
Rita, your poetry has inspired me so much this month! Thank you for sharing, for your vulnerability, for all the beautiful, meaningful words you have been gracious enough to share. I look forward to reading more from you in the future.
Rita,
I feel this:
Thank you for your poems and comments this month.
Rita, I have enjoyed reading your poetry this month. Yes, sometimes we can only do so much, but you’re here today with a full heart and that’s truly marvelous.
Rita, I’m so glad you were here, even when you couldn’t be here every day. “a full heart” — What a great gift! And that ending, “I am proud of what I did.” is priceless.
To Sarah, Denise, and all those who provided prompts and made this experience possible: Thank you! Your words inspired and encouraged me. To all those who wrote poems: Thank you! Your words are imprinted on my heart. To all who commented and read: What would I have done without you? You kept me going. To Glenda and Kim J.: Thank you for leading me to this space.
In April,
you helped me find in my heart and in my mind
30 poems, two floods, a paper boat, and a homemade costume.
You walked with me, skipping over sidewalk cracks,
comforting a weeping willow,
laughing at a giver pushing a cart with a loose wheel.
You led me to one green apple, one lone pine,
three kindred spirits, and a garden of books.
You showed me the beauty of three pearly teeth
and encouraged me to visit a yellow house (memory’s home).
We made meatballs and forgiveness
and clapped along with a substitute teacher.
We watched a heron’s eye, took dance lessons,
and flew on tender petal-wings.
You waved good-bye with me to a lost chair, a hidden doll,
and a car that ran on love.
During April, you helped me ride a bicycle along the bay.
You reminded me of a feather, and together
we sipped scalding tea.
You smiled as my son left Porcelain Elvis behind.
During April, you bore witness
to a stolen bouquet, given then forgiven.
You welcomed an outsider, standing outside a dinner party,
a girl from Hazard (one Z only), her Papaw’s artist in residence,
a mother hurt by shattered glass…
You watched her walk toward a natural spring,
hands cupped.
Once there, you helped her
set a goldfish free – sunrise in water.
Okay, I’m blubbering now with this whole poem, but that last line locks in the full-on cry of gratitude, real tears here, fanning the face and wiping the nose. Do you know what a gift of poetry you offer? The magnitude is real – – and felt – – and while it’s gentle and touching, it is absolutely the power and warmth of that sunrise in water. What a month of poetry with you, and I’m so glad you are here writing in this community. You change hearts for the better.
sunrise in water? More like, tears in water! So beautiful. I am crying as I read this and feel the emotions you are sharing.
What a beautiful and thorough reflection of your month of writing. I definitely feel like I have met a kindred spirit through our poetry. We seem to have common experiences and similar hearts.
Thank you for sharing so much of yourself with us!
Wow. Thank you!
Lori,
What an emotional poem filled with so much heart and imagery. Your metaphors are spot on. Delighting and tearing me up at the same time.
Gorgeous image.
Thank you.
Lori,
I’m thrilled you took on this challenge and hope to see you in May! Your poem takes us on a journey, as though each line is a stepping stone. Many made me smile! Peace!
Lori, the actions throughout your poem are captivating and full of sensory appeal. You’ve shared a myriad of stories full of emotion and interesting turns. Your ending though is truly magical. Love the sunrise in water close as it is full of hope and beauty! I’m glad you found this community and look forward to reading your poetry in the future.
Oh, Lori, what a sweet, sweet summary of your poems. It brought many of these images to mind from your poems, like Porcelain Elvis and the green apple. I’m so glad you joined us here this month!
Wow! I feel like I’ve delved back into the entire month. What a beautiful way to honor the writing done here. So many images and sensory detail, layer upon layer throughout. I absolutely love that last line – it feels both intentional and natural and provides the perfect image of new beginnings (as well as that of the goldfish). Truly lovely.
Mic drop!!!!!!! 🎤
Ditto what all the others said! I am so glad you joined us and I look forward to your return for Open Write!
Every year I feel like I can’t possibly write 30 poems. Every year I give up then start again. Thanks to all the poets that offered such support. Thanks for all the prompts. Thanks, Sarah, for your found poem, a community poem. Thanks, Denise, for dedicating your time to making each post happen. I am ready to let go of April, but I will miss all of my new and old friends here. Open Writes are a gift that will keep us going.
Verselove is like Yoga
On the mat,
I find the stretch,
hold,
focus,
release,
breathe,
move deeper into my body,
challenged,
but ready,
inadequate
but welcomed,
tired
but refreshed.
Yes, perfect, Margaret. Poetry like yoga is a practice of so many holds and forms and slight adjustments that sometimes only breathing can help. And you’ve captured the paradoxes as well, that this month and writing can be at once exhausting amd refreshing. Love this.
I love the implication of “on the mat.” Wonderful to see that end word be, ‘refreshed.’
Margaret, I have enjoyed reading your poems this month! This poem captures the stretching of heart and mind that Verselove allows. Thank you for sharing.
Margaret, I’m there with you on that yoga mat, and even though I can’t bend like I used to, I’m there in spirit, agreeing with every part of the refreshment in the stretch. I also feel like my head was barely above water this month, but the push is a daily victory that I can celebrate, and it gets me through…..in the absence of the yoga mat :). I also loved the Progressive Poem and how that turned out! You are doing great things bringing board books to babies, poetry a line at a time, and writing across the miles…..and winning dance competitions for smooth moves while you do it all. Yes!!!! Victory cheers!!!
Oh. Oh. Oh. I love this. This comparison is so perfect for Verselove, for writing. I love the “I find the stretch, hold, focus, release, breathe” lines so much.
What a perfect comparison!!
Well, if that’s not the truth… I am about to meet with my yoga class today. There are moments of tension and release, movements that I’m ready to let go of before even entering, but at the end, I’m always grateful and feel as if I’ve let as much go as possible. Your comparison with 30 days of writing poetry reflects this so perfectly. Thank you for being a shining presence here this month!
Margaret,
Love this mestphor. I love yoga but can’t even do crow pose. Oh well. Poetry and prose stretch me.
Margaret,
Nice comparison. I love the way the last half reads with the construction: _____but______. It’s so effective and relatable. Thank you too for the shoutout. I have been happy to help Sarah with the monthly Open Writes this year. Verselove was all Sarah’s work this month. She is a traveling troubadour with limited wifi, still blessing us with this space.
Margaret, I think you have hit on the perfect analogy! I definitely did not think I was up to the writing this year. I’ve stepped back from the blog and everything, just coping with circumstances, reserving time. But we need the poeming more than we know, do we not? As tired as we are – yes, we find ourselves refreshed. I am always grateful for your wise words, your insights, your incredible artistry, your sincerity, your grace. You’re a blessing.
Perfect analogy, Margaret. I agree that it seems impossible to write 30 poems in the month, but look at us now!! Hugs!
Sarah,
I cannot thank you enough for what you have created and sustained. It has given us so much. Your closing poem is so wonderful and took great effort. I love the concept of things sill humming. That’s exactly what it does. It’s like a great book or movie . . . i carry these ideas and people with me and their hum exploded into full-blown sound numerous times.
Loving VerseLove
I close the door
on 30 more
bits and pieces of me
in a folder inside a folder inside a folder
for family to read when I am gone
and see the me that they don’t see.
I share me with you before
friends and family.
I close the door
on thousands more
bits and pieces of each of you
put out into the our world
intimate and inspiring
moving my heart and brain
to new depths and heights.
We have grown
We have cried
We have laughed
We have sighed
This place is sacred and rare
We have whispered
in soft sounds
We have yelled
at what surrounds.
This place is sacred and rare.
No matter where we live
No matter who we are
We are grateful
We are bonded
We are changed
~Susan Ahlbrand
30 April 2026
Oh, to see the mechanisms that they don’t see. Really. This is so true, the way we know each other after these 30 days (and years) through poems that our relatives may never see or grasp. Only a poet gets it sometimes. And you close this gorgeous poem with a word I hadn’t quite used yet: bonded. Yes, that is exactly right. And it can’t be counted or qualified this accumulation of words. But bonded. Yep. Love that. And changed. Yes. Every poem I read shapes my understanding of humanity.
I agree. I cannot say thank you enough for this space of opportunity. It has changed me for sure. I love writing next to you all. Thank you for a poem of gratitude.
Susan, this is such a beautiful poem of gratitude for this writing space and also such a powerful reflection on the sharing of one’s thoughts and feelings through poetry.
Susan, I commented earlier, but I see now it’s not appearing. What I said earlier and will say again is that when I read your poems, I feel seen and not alone. I tell folks about my writing groups all the time that a virtual community is often more real than the people real and in the flesh sitting 20 feet away in their offices – and besides the fact that poets are so genuine and say things others don’t often know how to say, we are so open and honest because we know we are in it together, this sacred and rare place. Those words to describe this place are spot on. And your sharing with community brings a sense of privacy and trust here that you know is guarded without risk of judgment. I’m so thankful that we are here together as poets and friends.
Susan, I am struck by the truth of your opening lines. Those who know me so well in the daily real world really know nothing of me in the ethicalela world. What a trust and vulnerability we have with one another. Such a rarity. Thank you for uplifting us with your poems and your responses.You are always especially kind when reading my work.
Susan,
Your poems and images are so authentic and make me feel connected in ways that I treasure. Thank you for your poetry and contributions throughout the monthe,
Susan, amen and amen. This is so beautiful. You’ve certainly captured that idea that I so often think–that some of my poetry friends know me better than the family of my blood. I was just trying to organize my poems because they are not as organized as yours…”bits and pieces of me / in a folder inside a folder inside a folder”
Susan, each line, each stanza resonate with me because I, too, am filled with the overflow of emotions.
“We are grateful
We are bonded
We are changed”
Thank you for your words, your comments, your kind and caring soul!
“This place is sacred and rare” – well-said, Susan. It takes incredible guts to bare one’s soul on the page/screen for others to read…only to discover we are not strangers because we see ourselves reflected in each other, exactly as your last stanza says. Thank you for your word offerings in poem and in responses – so very meaningful.
Susan, I am in love with these opening lines. I never thought about poetry as bits and pieces of myself but it is exactly that!
Even more profoundly true is that this space gets to know more than those we see and love everyday! Such bold and honest statements. I’m grateful we have you and this space.
Susan,
Indeed.
Isn’t it amazing how well we’ve come to know one another through our poetry and our comments?
See you in May!
sarah—thank you for starting this fertile group of teacher/poets. They have enriched my life for years now. Here is my apology for all the assignments I didn’t turn in. Now I know how my students felt!
30 Days
I only wrote a few poems,
this 30 days.
I started many poems
read many poems,
admired many poems,
but finished few poems of my own.
I cannot explain
where my muse was hiding
this April-of-30-days.
Maybe they were taking a break from me.
I can’t blame them.
Sometimes I get tired of me, too.
See you next month, fellow poets!
GJSands
Gayle, no judgment here. This place needs to serve you in ways that work for you, which mean all the ways you name here without shame or guilt. This year, for me, has been about finding rhythms and noticing what I can step into, over, through, or around. Love that a poem arrived for you and us today.
Gayle, one thing I love about Verselove is the acceptance. Your voice is heard when you are here. Don’t lose your muse. Rest. There is always another poem waiting for you to write it.
Oh, goodness. I get tired of myself! That line would have made me giggle except for the truth of it. You got a wry smirk outta me here. We done, Gayle. We made it!
Gayle, I chuckle because I am that one too, where the muses gang up and all decide to fly elsewhere. I’m with Sarah: no nead to apologize for what didn’t fit into the plan those days; sometimes, the universe has other plans and shows up in ways we didn’t expect. You were here. You wrote. We fellowshipped in poetry. And we are all blessed because we need each other. We need each other. We need each other. We need each other…..and our poetry tells the story.
I love the humor of
Gayle, whether you are writing or you are reading or admiring, we feel your presence here. I feel as if we are a malleable group, constantly shifting in steadiness so that parts of us move back and forth as needed. Love your self-deprecation here in those last lines. See you soon!
Gayle, this made me smile! Your muse found you today, and I’m so glad.
Gayle, love your springy tone here, not judgmental, just matter-of-fact. We missed you, and I’m glad we’ll see you next month. My muse hides a lot lately too!
This is making me smile, thank you for composing.
Gayle, “see you next month” is a promising final line. Thank you for coming here, reading, and writing.
Gayle, I wasn’t here every day either…and it doesn’t matter, for the poems will come after us when they are ready (!). The most marvelous thing about stepping out of the challenge and back in is that it seems you haven’t ever been away. Never mind that hiding muse…mine gave up on me, ha…but my poeming community did not, and that makes all the difference.Your poem here resonates deeply with me – I am thankful for it and for you.
Gayle, you made me laugh. Lately, I have been saying that I need to be on timeout. I am not myself. But we also recognize that we are not always able to meet the expectations of others or even those we place on ourselves. I have enjoyed your poems and appreciate you!
Sarah, you always have a way of weaving community together like a cherished tapestry so that each voice and thought has a place, each poet shines. And I am in awe – of you, of your poem, of every voice in this community that sustains us and brings joy to all our broken places. Thank you for all that you give us – you know, BREATH, LIFE, BELONGING, A PLACE TO CALL HOME – so freely, with such hope for these days that are dark and uncertain. I can’t yet write or think or feel from yesterday, when I had to hold my beloved Fitz for his last breath and release him…..but please know that I am ever appreciative of everyone here, my poetry family, my human family.
Celebrating Through The Tears: A Tribute to This Community (YOU)
my fingers won’t write
but one thing I know: poets
write hope in the grief
my heart won’t yet beat
but this I know: poets find
pulse in lifelessness
my breath won’t calm down
but what I know: poet friends
reach in, hold hands, sit
my eyes can’t see straight
but I know this: poet friends
jump in the tear pool
my soul has a hole
and this I know: poet friends
share theirs to fill mine
Oh, Kim. I am so sorry. Sending you loving thoughts and gratitude for the times you have filled the holes in our souls…
Oh, no, Kim, I’m so sorry. “[M]y soul has a hole / and this I know: poet friends / share theirs to fill mine.” Yes, yes, yes. This is such a lovely poem. Sending hugs. You and your family are in my thoughts.
Oh, Kim. I hope writing was a comfort or mild balm. I hope the hugs coming your way in condolence make you feel cared for. We are grateful for anyone who has loved you and that you have loved, to have witnessed Fritz through you and in this poem. Hugs.
“Poets find pulse in lifelessness” speaks to me in my current grief. I wish I could be there to bring you flowers and hold your hand. Losing a beloved pet is one of the deepest griefs because it is one of the deepest loves. Albert is on my lap sending you licks.
Oh, my…the lovely paradoxes here. ‘write hope in the grief,’ yes, please. I learn so much from you, Kim. Thank you for being a shining light.
What a thoughtful tribute. A beautiful summary.
thank you
Kim, I am so sorry! You have become my poet friend, and I am so grateful for that and that I’ve had a chance to read your words. Please know I am praying for comfort for you.
I love the structure you created so much . . . starting the stanza with a different sense that you can’t use adequately right now through your grief and then ending on how this community compensates for what you don’t feel you can do. Brilliant!
You are such a valued member of this community. Not only are your poems always wonderful food for thought, but your gentle and specific commenting is always so spot on. I learn so much from reading the comments you add to all of the poems!
Kim, I am so sorry. I know this grief firsthand – poor precious Fitz, who knew, KNEW, he was loved, despite this world and this life being hard. This may not be a comfort to you but: Well-done, good steward of God’s creatures. Recently in church a well-meaning man said “As a Christian, death is our friend…” I called him out. I’m a believer but I know death is not our friend. It’s the last enemy to be defeated. Your word fits: Release. From all evils, sorrow, pain. I know theologians who would argue another point, that animals do not go to heaven, but, as none of these folks have been there to see it, ahem, how can they know? And, are animals not in the prophetic visions of the time when “all is made new”? Dogs especially are imbued with a love that is otherworldly…it’s there in their eyes, plain and pure…no wonder we love them so; no wonder the loss is so great. I am holding you as close as I can in this grief, dear friend. Thank you for sharing your (shattered) heart so beautifully and palpably that my tears, too, fall in the tear pool with yours.
Oh Kim,
You have such a way with words! You know exactly what to say… this poem is everything that you embody and continue to gift within this community. Thanks for offering so much of yourself in poetry, person, and being. Much gratitude.
Kim, I am in tears with reading this. When we lost Shadow this summer, I wasn’t sure we’d recover – she was the best dog ever. I still feel her loss and she is brought to mind here, in your grief. I’m glad this community is a healing one, as much as it is a writing one or a listening one or a friendship one… The structure of your poem sets the sadness and friendship alongside one another, as this place does. Thank you for being such a positive energy for everyone here. I hope we are able to return that to you. Hugs.
Kim, thank you for leading? nudging? me last year to this incredible community where I have found respect for all levels of writing and prompts that push me to dig may way out of that long tunnel where I spent much too long. To be honest, this has been better for my self esteem that years of therapy. I owe you a huge thank you.
Kim, “my soul has a hole”….I can feel this pain through and through. I am so sorry about Fritz. Dang. Thanks for sharing your whole heart here. I can understand your opening line because sometimes even writing about the grief is painful. I’ve jumped into the “tear pool” with you. Hugs, dear friend. Hugs!
Kim,
This gorgeous tribute to Fitz and our poetry community simply shows how big and expansive the human heart is. Love you friend. I’ll miss Fitz wrapped around your neck. I’ll give you a big Fitz hug in Portland.Its true:
“my soul has a hole
and this I know: poet friends
share theirs to fill mine”
Oh, Kim, my condolences on the loss of Fitz. He will be with you forever, but I’m so sorry he had to go now. I know you will write more when you can, and in the meantime, we will hold that hole for you. Peace.
(From Kim’s Lose, Loss, Lost poem.)
Kim, hugs and much love your way, friend! Your poem brought me to tears, especially the final stanza. The hole in your soul will take time to fill, but hope writing and sharing gives you some comfort. ❤️
Continuing to keep you in my prayers, Kim. I love that you know the value of writing during grief. I honestly believe humanity is collectively grieving on multiple levels too. So many hard and awful experiences surround us. But, we write. We fill each other’s cups. We gather. We pray. We love. We love YOU!
Kim,
Sorry to hear about Fritz. That’s hard.
Take care of yourself!
Thanks for all your poems and supportive comments!
See on Tuesdays slices and her in May!
Sarah, as always, thank you for starting this space a decade ago. Your poem today brings us all even closer together in digital verse–lovely♡. I took a line from a poem I drafted earlier to start something today.
poeming through life together
gratitude for a space
welcoming a witness to who
we are at in that moment
during that breath, appreciation
knowing this last line isn’t the end
a beginning to hope, joy, a new day
Love how a line has found a poem today. It has served as a metaphor for this last-not-last-new day. The way the poems will live on through readers, carrying your line into their lives. Hugs.
Thanks for “knowing this last line isn’t the end.” I have joyful tears today as I wave a longing goodbye. I know we will “see” each other again.
Yes! Poeming through life together! Let’s do that.
Stefani, I echo every sentiment here. Those last lines resonate and fill me with my One Little Word for this year: onward…..we have more to go, it’s not the end of the journey. I came to VerseLove right after my mother died, and it was the saving grace for my grief – a way to move forward in all the pain, writing and reading with those who would stare pain straight in the face with me and walk those treacherous miles with hope. I love these, friend, and thank you for your sweet text this morning. Hugs, Stefani.
knowing this last line isn’t the end
a beginning to hope, joy, a new day
{{{smiles, sniffles, hugs and love}}}
Thank you for being witness to
and
is definitely an apt description!
Stefani, I’m living with the word poeming today. It’s exactly what we do. And this reminder of “knowing this last line isn’t the end/a beginning to hope, joy, a new day” holds both ends of the month and ties them so neatly. Thank you for sharing your writing gifts with us this month!
Poeming for your vision of joy and possibilities is a beautiful curation of this space.
Thank you.
I love how the last line of your poem is “a beginning…” I’ve really enjoyed reading and writing with you this month.
Yes, Stefani, thank you for being here, for all the innovation and heart you add to this space. Love, love those last two lines, just as April 30 isn’t the end.
Oh, Stefanie, “poeming” is such a great word for this space. And “knowing this last line isn’t the end” holds so much promise. Thank you!
I am finger-snapping to every line, Stefani, for its utter truth. Thank you for your creative and beautiful offerings, always.
Love, love, love! Stef, you have a way with words that I admire. I think if you taught a poetry class, I would be in the front row, ready to learn. Thank you for bringing all of your poetic gifts this month. The Connections prompt was OUTSTANDING!
Dear Sarah and VerseLove Poets…
Thank you all. I came to VerseLove (as my poem will tell you) halfway through, feeling empty. I come away filled. My lines run over the recommended count (sorry) because my cup runneth over…
For the record: Not crazy about my title here but it was fun making the anagrams.
And: There is never a “last day” of poeming. We are the poems.
Love y’all <3
Lose Verve? Love. Serve. = VerseLove
I came to the poeming
when it was halfway through
having so little left of me
to give to you
holding my candle-stump
here in the valley
of deepening shadows
where my beloved is deciding
which treacherous path
he’ll take
one’s heart can only be
patched and burned
so much
before it says
no more
I came to the poeming
when it was halfway begun
in the darkness
before the sun
when I wake, exhausted
wondering
if I’m able
to navigate
one more workday
on these whitewater rapids
in their stinging spray
yet
I came to the poeming
not broken,
not exactly,
but emptied
by all I carried in*
called by your voices
echoing here in the valley
under the waterfall
and I knew
I would not
be consumed
so I came to the poeming
the outpouring, the mooring
because I needed you
to remind me
I’m not even
halfway through
—-
*lines borrowed from Sarah’s poem, “Before She Enters the Room”:
not broken,
not exactly,
but emptied
of whatever it was
she carried in
Fran, the imagery of nature and the art of poeming is beautiful. The spacing works so well too. Thank you for sharing and joining.
Fran, I did not read your poem before I wrote mine, but once again we are sharing the emptiness we are feeling, knowing that our poetry family holds the light into the caverns of human hearts and doesn’t turn a blind eye to the pain, but sits with it. I am grateful for your courage, your journey as caregiver, your strong value and sentiment for family and those you love and hold so dearly. I’ve watched your strength through the years as your husband has struggled with health issues, and he is blessed to have you there by his side through this time. I love the way you used Sarah’s lines today in your own. Simply beautiful ,and a wonderful example of the way we borrow not just lines but strength from each other.
Fran— just as I wrote to our poet friend, Kim—you have filled my cup so many times. Thank you!
Fran. I am glad you came to poem in a way that felt right for you this month. That we could be here to read what you were ready to write or let what remained in the white spaces. Over years we are seeing rhythms of each other’s lives that I never imagined for this space but am so grateful for the care you show us and the care you allow us to offer as you readers and friends. Hugs.
“Whitewater rapids in their stinging spray” is such a vivid image that captures so much of how we feel in the world today and in our individual lives. I’m so happy you showed up and wrote in the morning beside me. I am grateful for your presence and your poeming. (Which auto-correct made into the word opening 😉
Stunning. Your getting filled has, in turn, also filled me. Beautiful poem, Fran.
So many beautiful images, Fran. And, you came when you needed to. You filled yourself and us with your thoughts and words!
Fran, firstly, I hope you feel the hug I’m giving you and from the community which does so much to wrap its arms around everyone here. I’m reminded of the cups that British tribes passed to one another and the emptying and filling that must have occurred in their sharing. When one cup runs over, another is there to catch it and fill, just as you have filled others with your poems and your responses. Know that we are here for and with you.
Fran, thank your for you brave words and your ability to share from your heart. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your beloved.
Fran, I can hear your whole heart in this poem. I am so sorry you are having to navigate your husband’s difficult health issues. I do love the way you’ve created a poem through words taken from Sarah’s poem today. What a wonderful tribute to her. “Poeming” is magical. Sending you healing and peaceful vibes. Hugs!
Oh, Fran, I’m so glad you came, when halfway begun, halfway through then your last thought of not even / halfway through.
This is so beautiful. So true for me too.
Peace to you and your love in this difficult time. Thank you for sharing here.
Fran,
Your poems have been so intense and beautiful at the same time. The form, the craft, the pacing speaks to your poetic prowess. Love the title and everything about this parting poem.Thanks for sharing and writing.
Fran, I love your poems, and I/we need you as much as you need us–leaning on each other and sharing helps us connect, be seen and heard. Love the repetition of “I came to poeming,” which turns poetry into action. Sarah’s words blended with yours beautifully. Thank you for being such a generous responder to other poets and me.
Fran, you are a filler of cups, a warm hug, and a poet I admire. I am grateful for what you offered us here, and I hope you always know you are loved.
This is (as always) a lovely idea, Sarah. Thank you, and thank you all for your poems and comments and more.
Kevin
The long gap lingers
as ghost — eight
days of poetic break —
I am nothing if not
sequential, but even I
know when experience
in the world becomes
fodder for future writing;
So, I let it go, and know
I can always circle back
to write again
I missed a bunch of days mid-month because my wife and I went off on a wonderful vacation retreat, and I told myself, it’s OK not to write poems while you’re away this time. Still, I kept hearing that little voice in my head: I wonder what the prompt is today? I might yet circle back to the ones I missed.
Kevin
The mind is always composing even when the fingers cannot – thank you for your words which never miss the mark, Kevin.
Kevin, I too, missed days and felt a pull. I did read the prompts and wrote in my head, we will see if anything makes it beyond there. I like how your poem helps break out of your routine. Thank you for sharing.
Yes, Kevin. This space always has to serve you, not a burden. Not a counting or measure. Come and go without judgment. Still, we do know when a poet is quiet or elsewhere or resting. We wonder about wellness. Hope we didnt offend or do harm. At least that is how I feel. But we have learned over the past decade that the rhythms of our life guide is toward and away and hopefully toward again. Because…vacations. Yes. They are indeed fodder.
Your dedication to daily writing is admirable. That ghost that lingers. I’ll be circling back, too. I left blank pages in my notebook.
Yes, it’s OK to be in what I call ‘gathering mode.’ But, still I miss the writing. It’s wonderful to circle back. Love that line!
Your inputs have been so impactful, and I am certain you will indeed circle back to ones you didn’t tap into because you were prioritizing your wife and recharging!
Kevin,
Do write about PR. Some of my best poems this month grew out of my travels in Cambodia and Vietnam. When time was short, meaning little time for commenting, I posted late because a community depends on reciprocity, and that is a core belief and commitment for me. Today I waited to post until after my surgery for fear I wouldn’t be well enough to comment.
So true, Kevin. I enjoyed reading your reflection on your eight-day break. Yes, indeed, experience becomes “fodder for future writing.”
Kevin,
I can appreciate this because more times than not, I have poetry ideas in my head and as soon as I sit down to write, BLANK PAGE! But yes to the final lines:
Sarah, what a beautiful way to finish the month. Your poem honors the gathered poets. I read it much like I would sifting through photos from a trip upon returning – each one tugging a memory forward. I borrowed a line from your note and let it find its own way. Thank you, thank you, for the gift of you.
It’s in my Fingers Now
What was once
(words and letters)
And now is
(whirled into existence)
Will forever be
(a part of me)
Pieces of writers
(Their fingerprints left behind)
The shapes of them
(ridges rising along)
Their sounds enfolded
(a canyon of echoes)
Into each of us.
Thank you, Jennifer, for the gift of YOU. Every poem from your magical fingers and beautiful brain does leave its fingerprints on my heart. Fascinating, isn’t it, that what is created here becomes a part of us forever. Pieces of writers, the shapes and sounds of their (our) words… love this… reminds me of a quote I will now have to look up again, about riding the contours of poetry. Know that your always-thoughtful comments have buoyed me more than you know. You’re a jewel. <3
Jennifer, I read your poem multiple times, with and without the parenthetical lines. I am really drawn to the fingerprints left behind while thinking about holding pictures–which is not as common anymore. Thank you for sharing this month.
I love this title. And the parentheses. And to read this poem with and without. Two poems woven with hands on either end nudged them together “into each of us.” Such a lovely folding of the echoes that we carry with us.
The parentheses are perfect. I love them.
I love your metaphor of fingerprints left behind. I want to carry everyone’s fingerprints on my heart. I’ve enjoyed being a morning writer alongside you this month.
Jennifer, this canyon of echoes just beckons my soul back to the pages of poetry. It makes me want to take all of these poems and put them in a book of canyon echoes from this month – – the poetry has come at a time when it was so needed, and here you are with the perfect metaphor of trip photos bringing all the memories back. Love, love the title. Thank you for sharing the joy and the journey.
The way you mingle fingerprint termininology into your lines is magic! Our fingers transfer our ideas and in turn they absorb other people’s. Such a perfect comparison! I value your poems–and your comments–so much.
This is a lovely braiding of words, “a canyon of echoes,” celebrating a month of poems that now live in my heart. I have enjoyed reading your poems and have been awed by your creative formats. Thank you for all you have shared!
Brilliant poem, Jennifer. I love how you’ve crafted this one with some of the lines place in parentheses. The fingerprint imagery is phenomenal, and I can hear that canyon of echoes.
Jennifer, you are such a poet. I love the song of this poem, the breadth and smiles it brings to me. I love the “Pieces of writers (Their fingerprints left behind)” and “Their sounds enfolded (a canyon of echoes)” So true! So honoring and lovely. Thank you.
Jennifer, I wake up most of the mornings to the prompt and your poem, one of the first posted. Every time I am amazed at your poetic voice–rich, unique, thoughtful. Your use of parenthesis creates a poem within a poem: each one can hold on its own, so, it is three in one–so creative. Love the sound of “(a canyon of echoes)”. Thank you for being you, for your words, wisdom, craft, comments!
Jennifer,
Yours is one of the first poems that I wake up to. How do you write with such charm and creativity in an expeditious manner? You are a gifted poet. I have truly enjoyed your poems and keen comments with such attention to language. Thank you.
Jennifer,
I’m entranced by how you have crafted a poem in a poem. Both offer unique reading experiences, a universal playing off a specific. It’s re add on a well crafted poem and one I began my day w/ but got sidetracked from when I had to leave for my surgery. I love the embodied line: “It’s in my fingers.” Even when we don’t realize its impact, poetry is here saying, I’ve got you and you’ve got this.
Absolutely love this!! YOU are a gift and so is your poetry! 💙
The enfolding is bliss!