Between a Doze and a Daydream

I came out to my studio to write this afternoon. I started off writing a quadrille poem (44 words long) that would include the word spark or sparkle for dVerse Poetry’s weekly quadrille challenge. I wrote as the breeze wafted through my open door and the sun slowly shifted to highlight the artwork on the wall opposite me. The air was not too hot and not too cold, but just exactly perfect. Missy Cat came inside and found a comfy place to snooze and suddenly I realized I had been staring off into space, halfway caught between a doze and a daydream. What a perfect afternoon and a perfect feeling of peace. I realized I was more relaxed than I’ve been in ages. Did I get a lot of writing done? No. Did I get a lot of plotting and planning done for the 50,000 word novel I’m writing for NaNoWriMo? I have to say I did. Isn’t it amazing how much one can accomplish when we simply take the time to get halfway caught between a doze and a daydream? Happy Monday everybody!    Elaine

My daydream wall…

Missy Cat’s place to doze…

Uptight, skinny white girl,
just 23 years old,
I thought I had it all figured out,
and told my co-worker so.

“I’d never do that, or that,
and heaven knows, never that!”
I said, with a self-righteous look,
and right then, I think,
my path was set to run,
not straight, but with
many bends and crooks.

Sure enough, a few years later,
my marriage ended,
my heart was broken,
and that was just the beginning,
of the furies I’d awoken.

Love affairs, I had a few,
some were simply convenient,
but one I thought was really true.
However, he was young,
and wild and free.
I was a single mom,
so he wasn’t right for me.
Again, my heart was broken,
I gave up and said,
“No more men,
I’m through!”

Then came the biggest challenges,
I fell in love again,
and Lord have mercy,
then the trials began!
This man had some problems,
my kids were in their teens,
my mother was dying slowly,
and then my father did the same.
I helped to care for them,
all while working in between.

With God’s help and steady hand,
He lead me safely through,
and as I made it to the other side,
I learned a thing or three or two.

I wondered where and why I erred,
and called myself the very worst of fools,
but then my dad he told me,
a few days before he died,
“I always thought you crazy,
you let your heart lead all the way,
but now I’m really grateful,
because you cared for your Mother
and me, every single day.
If you had lead your life with your head,
as I always wanted you to do,
where would I be now,
without your heart leading you?”

So, yes, I’ve made mistakes,
had my heart ache many times,
I’m not rich or famous,
but what I have is mine.
I have a loving, healthy family now,
and sweet memories to hold near,
I wouldn’t change a thing,
for the lessons I hold dear.

© D. Elaine Wood-Lane
6/3/16


This poem came about from a prompt made by Grace at the dVerse blog:

For this prompt, think of a mistake you’ve made. Think of what you learned from it or maybe how you thought it was the end of the world and it surprised you by turning out okay or bringing something exquisite into existence. Or, think of how it stretched you beyond your wildest imagination or how you would now say, with the benefit of hindsight, you’d actually regret not having made that ‘mistake’ in your life. Share something serious or funny….make us cry or laugh or teach us something from your own experience of mistake-making.

Go here to read more from dVerse! They’re awesome!

https://dversepoets.com

Everything changes: people, places, seasons, addresses, and sometimes even names, phone numbers, and hair color!

I like change. I like to keep things new, fresh, and exciting. I like to learn, be inspired, grow, and share what I’ve learned and been inspired by so others can maybe learn, be inspired, and grow too. So, I’ve made some changes on my blog to reflect the changes I’ve made over the last year. I changed the design and I imported another blog of mine into this one, too, for simplicity. Finally, today I changed the name of the blog from Pocket Full of Words to Pocket Full of Sun because I use more than words to try and inspire others.

I use art, photos, and crafts to inspire and encourage others. I have a fully voluntary life coaching ministry where I listen to, encourage, and pray for others.

I know that many times people assume that the older we get, the less we like change. Not every “older” person hates change or resists it. Some of us embrace it! I hope that the many changes I’ve made don’t scare you, the reader, away. Keep coming back! My favorite part of having a blog is all of the people I’ve “met” from all over the world. I hope I don’t lose touch with any of you!

SAMSUNG DIGIMAX A503

Pencil Scratching

  

I read a story the other day about a woman who wrote novels.

She always wrote her first drafts in pencil because she loved the 

feel and sound of the pencil lead being scratched across the page.

I laughed to myself as I thought of how smudged up her pages must be,

at least if written in a typical journal like mine with facing pages.

On further reflection, however, wouldn’t a pencil be apt?

Life isn’t sterile and perfect.

It can get quite smudgey.

We rarely, if ever, get things totally right the first time ’round.

We have erasures, edits, and rewrites all our lives–nothing is perfect.

Writing with this old-fashioned pencil with its wooden smell and

sensuous feel of the the tip scratching across the page,

at least makes the journey tactilely fun.

It makes it so much fun, in fact,

I don’t want to end this poem.

I won’t hold you hostage with my pencil

 any longer, 

          for now. 
© D. Elaine Wood-Lane

1-14-16

Dear Poems|NaPoWriMo Day 15

Tulips 2015

Dear Poems,

Here are some flowers
of spring for you, to
say thank you for putting
up with me.

Why do I write you?

Why do I think that
words I put together
join forces to
describe my chaotic, quixotic
thoughts and feelings?

I’m a 53 year old
who has always overthought things,
analyzing everything I’ve said,
or done, or will be
saying or doing tomorrow.

You see, everyone thinks I’m
this wild and crazy free spirit,
but I’m not, really.

I think about every single word I
say, even the tone in how I say it.

I’ve always kept those thoughts
and worries secret,
except when I write you,
dear poems, then all kinds
of things just bubble right out.

Sometimes when I write you, poems,
the words that express my thoughts
and emotions flow just right.

Sometimes, when I write,
the weirdest, funniest things come
out in a stilted, awkward,
sing-songy way that sounds like
a first grader who has had too
much red Koolaid!

So, dear poems, have I improved at all?
Should I cease this ridiculous idea
that what tumbles out of my mind onto the page
could actually make someone’s day
happier, lighter, more gentle and kind?

Please let me know, dear poems,
should I stop or should I go?
Waiting anxiously to hear from you!

Sincerely yours,

The writer of your verse,
Elaine Wood-Lane
© 4/15/15

Today’s prompt was: Today, I challenge you to write a poem that addresses itself or some aspect of its self (i.e. “Dear Poem,” or “what are my quatrains up to?”; “Couplet, come with me . . .”) This might seem a little meta at first, or even kind of cheesy. But it can be a great way of interrogating (or at least, asking polite questions) of your own writing process and the motivations you have for writing, and the motivations you ascribe to your readers.

I’m not sure I was that sophisticated, but this did allow me to express some of my thoughts, doubts, and quixotic thoughts!