Grand Prize   A liberal and a vegan jump off a cliff to see who will hit the ground fastest. You wanna know who wins? SOCIETY!   (A tanka is a five line poem with a syllable count of 5/7/5/7/7. I can’t take true credit for…

Her favorite jacket is stained beet red, The same crimson that is running down between her fingers As everyone around her stares in tremor. At this point, the color is enough to stain a bayou, flowing down to her elbows as she runs to find…

Athena the Bischon was a wild dog. We bought her partly to keep our old dog Cappy From growing old too quickly And the way she played with him did keep him young for a long time..     She would chase and run through his…

We left the carport Headed to the bayou Your elbow leaning out the car window Looking so cool in that jacket My heart tremors at the sight of you Watch out for that elk We have to make it safe to the bayou We’ll have…

An elk is the loudest of all deer, Glass lightbulbs contain gas and are fragile. Buckets are biblically old in design and sometimes leaky, Carports offer protection from the weather. Elbows facilitate surreptitious nudging. All carry characteristics of grannies.     Author: ©️Jane Eckford 2nd…

Back to the outdoors. Leave technology behind. Enjoying the night sky. Stars shining brightly. A vast universe. So many destinations. Places to go. People and things to see. Oh, the great outdoors.

The cinnamon broom above my door Deep in the Bayou where only crickets can hear Boats tremor in the swampland Insects who look like they are wearing beet colored jackets The solitude creates my peace  

But let’s go back a step to ask why the earth had to be flat. and that leads me to a deeper question that some people wonder about.  “If God is Love, why does he let all these terrible things happen.” I have the solution…

The stars so bright Shimmering like they know my inner dreams Waiting to burst open and explode for the world to see  

Barefoot and sun kissed Swinging with the sunflowers Hair blowing and birds chirping Is where my heart belongs