Slow Dance–dVerse Poetics

Image: Dancing Tree by Taye-Drya DeviantArt

Image: Dancing Tree by Taye-Drya

Slow Dance


Last night I slow-danced with an ash tree—

the roughness of his arms stroking my bare skin

and leafy kisses covering my breasts.


With branches strong he bore me high above the stars

where rainbows melted into gold.


I fell asleep, but wakened to the sound of angel lyres,

drank, without fear, the nectar of the gods

till satisfied they rained me back to earth.


I stretched on dewy grass, delighted in earth’s loamy scent,

then spent my days in dreams of a last dance.


Anthony Desmond is inviting to take a psychedelic trip today. I’ll leave it to you figure out how to do that–I needed to use my imagination…not going there at my age. :0)  Join us for this fun prompt Tuesday 12:00 EDT over at dVerse.

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto


Dog Daze of Summer

For Open Link Night at dVerse on Saturday, my post was titled “The Dog Days of Summer.”  Today, because I’m feeling lazy, here’s a photo variation on the theme:   The dogs We’ve loved:

Photo: David Slotto

Photo: David Slotto

Ascot, our first (and the only dog we got from a breeder, rather than a rescue, a Jack Russell Terrier (1993-2009) This photo was taken when he was quite old. David’s canine soul-mate.

Photo: David Slotto

Photo: David Slotto

Blondie, a Golden Retriever Mix rescued from the Humane Society in 1993 at about age 1 1/2. We got her because she was calm and thought she would be am asset in influencing our wild little JRT–wrong. She had heartworms; we had her treated and they became an inseparable wild, though well-trained pair.. We lost her in 2004. She was my soul mate in the dog kingdom.

Photo: David Slotto

Photo: David Slotto

Dolli, an American Eskimo, rescued from a local rescue in 2004, found wandering the streets of Reno, scavenging.  The rescue said she was between 3-5 years old, but we only had her 5 years and the vet said she was likely about 15 when she died. She was a sweet friend to us and Ascot, and died only a couple of months after him. You may recognize the breed with its long hair–she felt the heat.

Photo: David Slotto

Photo: David Slotto

Zoe–a Jack Russell/Doxie Mix (a guess). We rescued Zoe through from a Northern California rescue. She is almost completely deaf and has had spinal cord degenerative problems such as are common with Dachshunds. Early this year she required surgery for a disc that had intruded on her cervical spine.


Photo: David Slotto

Photo: David Slotto


Sparky–Zoe’s hearing-ear dog, rescued only a week after Zoe. He is a Papillion mix. I was down in the desert when I had to have Dolli put down, so we found him, also on  and picked him up in SoCal on the way home. They are inseparable.

Underlying this post is my goal of promoting animal rescue. And, if you are able, consider adopting a special needs dog or cat. It is so rewarding.

In the near future, I will be announcing a new effort. I am an avid (addicted?) jewelry-maker, in the process of setting up an ESTY shop under the name VictoriaCreates. There I will be offering my jewelry for sale at very affordable prices. I will keep only the cost of supplies and donate the balance to the SPCA of Northern Nevada, a no-kill shelter.

Have a wonderful week and, those of you who do have pets, give them an extra treat, walk or cuddle for me.


Photo: David Slotto

Photo: David Slotto


bare back–dVerse Open Link Night

Photo: (Pinterest)

Photo: (Pinterest)

bare back

in my dream I ride bare back on a white stallion
in frothy surf as it kisses sand, teases seahorses

there is freedom in the scent of salty air and sacred power
in aloneness of sandstone cliffs—protection from intrusion

the solstice sun leaps off the edge of ocean’s rim
leaving behind gold-washed clouds and gilded whitecaps

undulating muscles of the steed, undulating roll of waves,
the crash of breakers on the shore enclose blissful somnolence

too bad it’s but a dream too bad aloneness gives way
to loneliness and darkness overtakes the earth

too bad the horse is but a chimera
that gallops into the void




Linked to dVerse Open Link Night where you can write about anything you like. The Pub opens at 3:00 PM EDT and I will be your hostess, serving up poetry and mojitos to combat the heat.

Calando–Writer’s 4th Wednesday

I’ve chosen a previously published poem from 2012 in response to my prompt for Writer’s 4th Wednesday over at The Bardo Group. Music lends itself to allegory.

Image: Wikipedia

Image: Wikipedia


Life lived in a minor key
(not empty)
waiting for the final chord.

You walked alone
and yet the song you sang
(gentle, haunting)

Dolce, my sweet friend
dolente, largo,
until alone, as you lived,



Using musical notation, this brief poem is about a loved one who suffered from agoraphobia. She died a few years back  from cancer. Many have commented on her life as wasted. I chose to believe she had her own symphony to compose, and it was full of a gentle, generous beauty.

Calando-dying away

Agoraphobia is literally translated as fear of crowds. It is a type of social anxiety disorder.

Calando–published in my poetry collection, Jacaranda Rain.

Excuse Me, Sir–Do You Have the Time? dVerse Poetics

Photo: Kyle Therrian

Photo: Kyle Therrian

Excuse me, Sir–do you have the time?

It’s time to watch the bees that ravish stems of lavender,
to listen to the cluck of quail, the song of wrens.

It’s time to hold our world, her pain, in caring arms,
to see great beauty in an aged face.

But can you tell me, sir, what time it is?

It’s time to feel your heart that beats within your chest,
to watch the setting sun slip out of view,

to touch the velvet smoothness of a rose,
or roughest skin upon acacia’s trunk.

Forgive now, for it’s time to heal the past,
to mend the wounds of rancor and of hate.

My watch has stopped, dear friend—
just let me know the time.

The time is now. It’s always, only now.




Written for dVerse Poetics where Mary has us reflecting on and writing about TIME. I suspect that, when I edit this, it will take on a few additional stanzas! Please take the time to stop by and enjoy. The doors open Tuesday, 3:00 PM EDT 

Of Hand-Holding and Hugs–Monday Meanderings




Today, David and I had a couple of errands to run—one of which took us to Target to get some dog-care items that we can only find there. As we exited the store, David took my hand. I don’t think I would have noticed because it’s just what we do but then I spotted a middle-aged couple ahead of us, hand-in-hand. And headed in our direction, a young couple, his arm around her. I couldn’t but smile and feel grateful. Here we were: young, 40’ish and older (that’s us), still reaching for one another, still loving and caring for each other.

This brought to mind that today would have been my parents whose 62nd Wedding Anniversary. Both of them had lost their first spouse at an early age and remarried in their 30’s. Right up into their 80’s people would stop them to comment on their obvious affection for each other. And that affection extended beyond us, their family, to many, many fellow travelers on the road of life. One time when I was visiting them, years ago, noted author and lecturer Leo Buscalia made his way through several tables at a Denny’s restaurant in Pasadena to comment on the obvious joy they still found in one another. He said something to the effect that—this is just what I’m trying to communicate in my books.

Mom is still alive at 93, living with a slowly progressive dementia. I called her today but decided not to bring up the date—she remembers my Dad every day and misses him so much. I was afraid I would trigger a bout of unnecessary grief.

Each day I learn more about the fact that, if a marriage or committed relationship is to be for the long haul, both partners have to be willing to put in a lot of work. I learned that first hand growing up, watching my parents deal with the huge challenges of a blended family from very different backgrounds—one that included two daughters the exact same age. (I won’t go into detail about that!)

bestinshowdailySo this week—for those of us who are blessed to still have our partners, let’s focus on being present, expressing love and acceptance, going out of our way for the other. For those of you who have lost a loved one, nurture a loving memory with gratitude—even if that relationship did not have a happily ever after ending. It’s possible to learn something from everyone who is or has been a part of our lives, isn’t it? And for those who are still waiting—may you be open to both the wonders and the work aspect of a relationship.

Sorry that this sounds a bit preachy but when someone has lived a long while, has failed, gotten up and kept on going, when someone keeps trying to love and accept—maybe you will forgive them for thinking they have something to share. God knows, our poor world needs a bit more hand-holding and a lot more hugging.

Have a love-filled week.


Find Leo Buscalia’s books at 

Titles include:

Love: What Life is All About;

Living, Loving and Learning;

Loving Each Other and more.

The link will take you there.

After Closing–a Haibun



I sneak into the Pub after closing. The air still zings with the echoes of poets and their words. Energy pulsates. I touch words leftover, discarded in favor of others. I can’t let them lay there, rejected, so I scoop them up and slip them into my pocket, bulging now with promise.

It’s time to clean up, I know, but I’m in no hurry, so I slip into a booth in the back, light the candle and spread the words on the table, ignoring the scent of ale that still pervades the room. I realize I won’t be able to use them all tonight, but promise them I’ll keep them for another time.

Someone slips a key in the lock of the front door that I’d secured just minutes earlier, and flings it wide. Before I know it I hear a couple of voices, then three, then another until a low buzz builds into a cacophonous roar. They’re back, these poetry addicts, and it won’t be long before they notice me.

I hide the words in a couple of napkins—one with those I’m using and the others for next time.

I know they were here, a familiar voice says. Who could have taken them?

Before they notice me, I slip out the back. The rest of the work will wait.

Word addicts we are.
We cannot not consume them.
Drink of them deeply.


We are closing up a week of celebration for our third anniversary over at dVerse. Please join us.

Image: Michael Michalko

Image: Michael Michalko