My words found sound today, day 5 of my new left knee replacement adventure. Ouch! The first thing I saw when I was rolled into the operating room was a full set of hand drills. Wowza, to say the least. That’s for another day of story.  Today I’m joining in with the Friday Writings fun hosted by Poets and Storytellers United. The prompt is all about repetition. I’m trying my hand with a Blitz poem format created by Robert Keim. Enjoy! Roll for Many by Su-sieee! Mac Rock of ages Rock and roll Roll on by Roll with me Me fa so la doe Me no go Go lightly Go gently Gently be mine Gently live Live lively Live sweetly Sweetly go I Sweetly go you You my sweet dude You my always Always and forever Always will be you and I I laugh at ants I fly in joy Joy joy joy Joy we sang Sang sung and sing Sang over hills and hills Hills of joy and love Hills so very green Green lands of green Green lands of joy Joy joy joy Joy I sing for you You I love You inside my heart Heart to heart Heart of the Earth

Prompt: Red, Friday Writings , hosted by Poets and Storytellers United I don’t remember whether I gave the funeral home’s makeup artist a tube of Mama’s favorite lipstick. That was six years ago. I hope I did. Lipstick completes a woman, so I think Mama believed. Mama’s Lips Red, true red, was the color Mama traced precisely filled in carefully pursing lips lightly blotting away red. A final look, deep breath. Ready. -30- Head to Friday Writings to read what other participants are writing this week.

Love Cat  purring, kneading on my lap. Husband  cleaning, bandaging my cut foot. Love, unconditional love, giving and given. ©️Susan Echaore-McDavid

   I want to create things that make me feel like I'm lying on a bed of vibrantly colored flowers. That's what came to mind when I saw an illustration from the animated film Story of Flowers. It also inspired the haiku. Please, take a look at the short animation . It may inspire you, too.

Be safe and well, One and All!

   

1. The Husband and I successfully fulfilled our monthly date for vacuuming, dusting, and mopping the house. Three months in a row. Definitely a whoop-de-doo! for us. The carpet feels so good beneath our bare feet. 2. Here's another thing I'm proud about doing today. I successfully pulled a curly dock weed, more than 60 inches tall, from the middle of a young butterfly bush. Poor guy. The two plants' roots were stuck together, but not entwined, so I was able to pry them apart. Hopefully the young butterfly bush was not too traumatized. 3. I need to go out and check the seeds I planted last week. They may need a drink of water. 4. But, first I need to go cook our main meal for us. I do miss not cooking. 5. Here I am again. The seeds got their sips of water. I saw two sunflower sprouts. Yippieeee. 6. After marinating locally produced grass-fed beef stew in a concoction of spices, vinegar, oil, and whatever else for a few hours, I sliced the meat thinly a

i, ii, iii, iv Evolution of Love.  That's what has been happening with the mystery craft project I'm working on for the county fair. I have to use at least four items from this list: bandana, feather,  pillar candle holder, magnet, cake pan, sea shells, wooden spoon, domino, yarn, rocks, paper party hat, and plastic liter bottle. So far, I have rocks, dominoes, and a cake pan in the mix. Yarn, sea shells, and/or a party hat are in consideration. Can you tell what the dominoes spell? v, vi Iago the Iguana is one of my ABC Creatures that I created for Round 22 of ABC Wednesday . The imaginary iguana was named for my dad, Santiago, who was sometimes called Ago (pronounced like Iago). This handsome dude, Iago, is in love with an egret named Edwina. Imagine that. If you want to read his story, click this link: Iago the Iguana and the Invitation . vii "And, love is all that I can give to you," sang Nat King Cole . viii, ix I drew this illustration

Today is Our World Tuesday , where I'm participating. Here's the link . Thank you, OWT administrators.

Back in March , I mentioned that a poem of mine was accepted for an anthology of hay(na)ku. "Bad News" is the poem. Now that the anthology is released, I am sharing the poem with you.  Hay(na)ku poems are composed of six words in three lines. What cracks me up is that my brief bio in the book is 10 times longer. Over 100 poets from around the world are featured in HAY(NA)KU 15:A Commemorative 15th Year Anniversary Anthology . Published by Paloma Press, it's edited by Eileen R. Tabios , the creator of the hay(na)ku form.

My six-word poem is called a hay(na)ku, a poetic form created by Eileen R. Tabios. The basic format is this: First line = one word. Second line = two words. Third line = Three words.  If you'd like to learn more, check out Eileen's webpage .  In February I submitted three poems for the upcoming anthology, HAY(NA)KU 15 (working title). One of them was accepted. Whooo-hooo! The last time I had a poem published by someone other than me was. . .hmmmm. . .about 40 years ago.

The memory of the best lemon meringue pie I ever ate Still makes me smile. Still gets me goofy with a sugar high. Still makes me feel weak at the knees. A sigh of deliciousness. That slice of the best lemon meringue pie is very long-time gone. Back in 1984. In a red building in a small shopping center in the middle of cowboy country. On The Big Island of Hawaii. A sigh of deliciousness.

My Alphabe Thursday theme—Places I've Been I visited Hawaii for the first time in Fall 1984. A girlfriend and I had plans to backpack the trail in Kauai, but she dropped out a few weeks before our departure. My vacation days were already set, so, I took the plunge and went to Hawaii by myself. The moment I stepped off the plane in Honolulu, I felt like I'd come home. The warm breeze, swaying palms, the sultry air, the local people. They all spoke to my being. Unlike the Philippines that I'd visited 10 years earlier. Unlike Hollister where I was born and raised. Unlike San Francisco where I was then living. The first time I drove into a sugar cane field, I wondered if the Daddy may have worked there long ago. The Daddy lived in Hawaii from his early 20s to his early 40s. I asked him once, "Where did you live?" "All over," he said. "Maui. Hilo. Kauai. Oahu. All over." He signed a three-year contract to work in the Hawaiian sug

The Mama, as some of you dear readers know, is in her nineties. The tiny, fragile, slow-stepping Mama is doing well, thank you very much for asking. She's as fit and magnificent as the flowers and vegetables that she grows. The only medication she takes is for her thyroid. I can only hope that I haven't screwed up the genes she gave me too awful much. This morning, I found a poem that I wrote about the Mama two years ago when she was rushed to the hospital. The Mama is amazing. The Sleeping Mama Slipped into her ER room. She was fast asleep, Hooked up to the IV, heart monitor, and oxygen. In one moment, she could not move no matter how hard she tried. And, she tried, and kept trying, to stand up. "Walking pneumonia," the doctor said. "Dehydration." What did she say?  "This is going to cost me a lot." © 2014 Su-sieee! Mac I'm participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this month. To check out other participants, c

This is dedicated to the Husband's and my friends—the Young Old Fogeys. We Do It! We're too old to do this. We're too old to do that. We're too old so some think. But, we do it. I'm not a young man. I'm not a young miss. Ah. But, we have much bliss For we do it. We hike up the hills. We zip through the trees. We pedal against the breeze. We like to do it. We're too old to do this. We're too old to do that. We're too old so some think. Ha! We do it. © Su- sieee ! Mac. All rights reserved.