Evening Wordplay

Evening Wordplay

It’s been a while since I blogged. Busy, busy week. Book website is moving along wonderfully and book should get uploaded by the weekend. So much good stuff to be revealed very soon. Can’t wait to share with you!


We are on the homestretch to becoming published, my supportive friends. And I couldn’t be more excited and happy that you’re along with me on the journey.


Tomorrow is another fantastic guest blogger and I’m so very excited about this one, because I happen to be highlighting a book blogger who interacts with many readers and authors, some of my favorites. I look forward to sharing her thoughts tomorrow on the genre I’m about to embark on, so you won’t want to miss that.


From time to time, I mess around with words. If you follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that it’s not unusual for me to tweet little droplets of prose, quirky phrases and bits of storyline – many not linked to any particular plot or future book – just to give my imagination a chance to…dance around a bit. Good for the creativity to take a swirl on the dance floor sometime. For no apparent reason other than to feel your hair swish about and the wind soar around your head.


Recently, I’ve played around with this from straight-up copy to poetry to limericks and even haiku for Pete’s sake! Thought you might get a kick out of these. Some are inspired by my book to come, The Muse Unlocked, still slated for a summer 2013 release. Others may be inspired by specific events, memories or thoughts crowding my ever-churning mind. I hope you enjoy.


Happy reading! ck








A happy accident? She pondered. Could this be more than happenstance? She believed in naught yet her heart danced. Dragging desire from its dungeon, forcing a second look, She found her faith, re-wrote her own ‘good book.’


A heart restored? She wondered. Would there be another series of incidents? Or was this shred of hope mere coincidence? Opening the past, thwarting residual tears, She invited serendipity inside and released all fears.






Each time they touched, a rip current rushed to greet them. Lying beneath the surface, an intricate net of broken vows, ignored dreams and buried secrets threatened to suffocate and pull them under. Bobbing among the waves, they struggled to stay afloat until their burdens were too heavy and their weight settled to the sea floor, dragging along the shore and impeding their path, like seaweed caught in the toes of a forward step.






There was an old chick with a pen Gave her scribbles a plain-spoken spin When she wrote the truth down Greater things were abound And she’d never be silent again.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HAIKUS


The screenwriter tills. The actor seeds and harvests A storyline grows.


Hearts no longer open, Another beams light and heat. A woman must trust.


Lies and pasts stripped bare, Intimacy redefined Without fear or doubt.


One heart unfastens. Tenderness reawakens. Story rewritten.


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