Fog Tonight

Oooh, I’m ready for “fog”—-literal, and poetry.  Mark is our super-knowledgeable friend for seasons of the year, and seasons in poetry…and pretty much Anything, so click his link, visit his blog and be inspired!

Bay Bridge and Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco in fog-Photo Credit: Brocken Inaglory

Fog is thick heavy

Tonight you’re weight on my heart

Cannot be banished

©Leyde Ryan, 2022 ~ All rights reserved.

Yesterday’s Embers

Summer’s intense heat

Perhaps it might rekindle

Yesterday’s embers

She languished ‘mid memories

His face in twilight hour…Then

Reminded herself

He was truly her gone-love

Ever debonair…

Strange mystery, growing old

How it contradicts the heart…

©Leyde Ryan, 2022 ~ All rights reserved.

Stutter-Stepping Heart (2011)

This prompt from Oloriel at MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie grabbed me.  I knew immediately which of my poems, from 2011, I would share with readers who didn’t know me at my very first blog.  Click the link above to join in!

Stutter-Stepping Heart

Sometimes, the wind chimes
Play memory-songs of your
Blue-steel eyes on me.
I’m without rhythm, lyrics–
Dancing mute, stutter-stepping.

©Leslie Rene, 2011 ~ All rights reserved.

By the End of It…

By the end of it

She had no preferences

No choices or tastes

Left to her by he who ruled

Nightmare she’d walked right into…

His chain of linked lies

Had once sounded credulous

When she believed in

Romantic songs, fairy myths

Before years replete with tears…

Now nothing was left

Tears, dried water spots on glass

Time and miles mingling

Blurred, yet sharp-shard memories

Fake-gem fragments…not diamonds

©Leyde Ryan, 2022 ~ All rights reserved.  Prompt words: preference, choice, taste

Heart’s Duckling (3TC)

Prompt words: feather, down, tufted

Born with duckling down

 Babe’s ‘feathered’ head, hands caressed

Cooing woke his smile

Oh to keep them small and close

Old heart’s tufted…young duck’s hair

©Leyde Ryan, 2022 ~ All rights reserved.

Stitching Heart

(photo, author’s collection)


I stitch this worn heart

With a fine fiery-flame floss

Cauterize old wound

That reopens, suppurates

When poison mem’ries surface—

Biding my brief Time

Toxins will take me one day

Burn up bad-sad dreams

Cruelties blood recollects

Lord God, vindicate Your child

©Leyde Ryan, 2022 ~ All rights reserved.

Remembering Quokka

For a-letter-a-week, “Q”, I’m using the host’s drawing and her 5 prompt words:  quagmire, queasy, quick, qualify, quokka.  This challenge is FUN, so click the link above to join in.

Quick as she saw the word

She felt queasy…one of those

Flash-back gut punches…until

A memory surfaced which thrilled.

What weirdo or clique of weirdos

Could think the college newspaper

Would sparkle under the name


Forever ago that’s where she’d

Headed—place of learning so new

There were no permanent buildings

Mere mobile units plopped into

Damp brown mucky not-yet

Grass-sodded quagmire.

Little was required to qualify

For enrollment—pay tuition

Fees…Boom, you’re a college

Student wondering...why?

Then one day, trekking to

English Lit she nearly slipped

‘Mid the ‘quag’, and was rescued

By strong gentle hands:


He wasn’t the “big man on campus”

Every newbie female hopes to

Connect with (star athlete, whatever)

He was so much more.

Suddenly she felt blessed

To have muddy sludge

Ruining her shoes.

Quokka’s kind dark eyes told

Her she was beautiful, brilliant

A Somebody among nobodies…


©Leyde Ryan, 2022 ~ All rights reserved.