Rhymes, Rants & Accolades from North Central BC

April 21st Poem


A poem encapsulates the moment.
An idea niggles its way
from your subconscious
growing bigger
more insistent
as it slithers past
everyday bits and pieces
of paranoia.
The poem doesn’t care that
the neighbor’s dog woke you
up last night or that the phone
rang once again urging you
to vote Liberal or NDP.
It doesn’t even care
that Trump no longer likes
The poem demands
to be written.
Not tomorrow
nor the next day.
Right now!
It may be something
totally inane.
A white moose
A sandhill crane…
Just get on with it!

April 20th Poem

Virginia’s writing prompt for a poem: Find a favorite recipe. Now write a poem inspired or in the style of that recipe about a family secret—yours or someone else’s.

Broccoli Salad

Broccoli is good for you
Cut in tiny curly cues
Celery sliced so very thin
Green onions add and then begin:
Toast your slivered almond wisps
Fry some bacon ‘til it’s crisp
Add to veggies when it’s crumbled
Stir some grapes into this jumble
One cup red and one cup green
Looks like a Merry Christmas scene
Before you add the mayo, sugar
Contemplate this secret riddle:
If we eat your broccoli
Sliced onions and the celery
Will that not balance on the side
The extra bacon that you fried?

April 19th Poem

What a fabulous day!

I’m so happy and gay

This morn broke my heart

Cause my car wouldn’t start

But a battery was bought

And the ignition caught

The wheels went around

With barely a sound

What a fabulous day!

I was happy and gay

But then later on

My key-rings were gone

Two sets of keys

I prayed “Oh no please!”

But things just got worse

I searched through my purse

I scurried and browsed

All through the house

In depths of despair

I knew they weren’t there

But my purse had a lining

With key-rings reclining

I felt for the lumps

Tore at fabric in clumps

My keys were so shiny

So pretty and tiny

What a fabulous day!

I’m so happy and gay

April poems from the Cariboo

Chimney smoke clots the nostrils
I can feel the beginnings of a sneeze, a snort
A wheeze.
Air is heavily laden with moisture
Black smoke sifting down
To the ground

An Old Log House

Old log house built
In 1927
Still habitable
My brother’s friend
Lives there along with his dogs
Carl and Tessie
And a black cat
With an attitude.
We visit the resident human
My brother and his dog
Named Rusty
And the dogs visit too.
So many old buildings
In the Cariboo
Abandoned for decades
Still valiantly upright
Roof shakes missing
Floor boards rotting
Logs lustrous with age
Nice to see an old log house
Still occupied

Log House in the Bushes

Built after the First World War
When hope enveloped the world
No more wars
No more epidemics
Time to reach out toward the wilderness
Leave the city. Take the train.
Wife, children, parents
Walk, ride horseback
Into the great unknown.

When Siblings Converse

We talk and we differ
In thought and perspective
Based on experience
Suppositions reflective
We walk through our childhood
Adolescence and youth
I married young and he was not couth
Now we are old in a state of decline
We chat and we chat
Until it’s past nine

Easter Sunday

For Easter Sunday dinner
We had salmon and creamed corn
A store bought pie and Cool Whip
And some coffee left from morn

Jack sang a song about Jesus
‘Twas fitting for the day
We launched into our repast
Listening to old tapes he played.

April 8th and 9th poetry challenge:

I just returned from the Cenotaph where a small group was commemorating The Battle of Vimy Ridge, a hundred-year-old Canadian triumph in war history. People spoke and it was enlightening and a positive experience for me. On the other hand The Battle of Verdun in 1916, the previous year, had been a lesson in abject futility.

The Battle of Verdun- 1916

On August 21, 1914, my great-uncle
Charles Holland Haynes
Left Vancouver on a troop train
For military training
In Valcartier, Quebec
Brittania Ruled the Waves
Was the catch-phrase
Of the times
Those upstart Germans
And their allies
Daring to compete against
The British Empire and France
Taking over lucrative
World trading markets with
Cheaper inferior wares.
The first fatal shot
Had been fired
And every good Colonial boy
Was preparing to fight
For the Mother Country
Two years later on June 3,1916
My great-uncle Charles
Was reported “Missing in Action”
From The Battle of Verdun.
He was officially presumed
To have been “Killed in action”
In March of 1917

Historians refer to
The Battle of Verdun
As the “Greatest and lengthiest
Battle in world history”
Nine months of bloody
More than
Seven hundred thousand
Dead, wounded, missing
The battlefield less than
Ten square kilometers.
No place to hide.
The devastation carrying on
Long past
Any reasonable conclusion
Ultimately degenerating
Into “A matter of prestige
Two nations fighting
For the sake of fighting…”

The school gym packed to capacity.

An entire town guffawing, snorting,

giggling helplessly,

with barely enough time to breathe

before convulsing into another

throat muscle spasm.

Hilarious performances

pertaining to

people we know

and places to go

in our “Still Standing”



April 6 Poem:


An Ordinary Man
That’s what he was
Just an ordinary man
Never got no medals
For doing what he can…
He excelled at many things
I admired him for that
He also had some issues
That were wrong and that’s a fact.
But an ordinary man
Can be better than the best
Once addiction and compulsion
Have been faced and passed the test.
Just an ordinary man
Never asked for credit
For the good advice he’d shown
Enjoyed it when the children
Embraced life when they left home
If they encountered trouble
He’d say “Hold your head up high,
For sure you will get through it
When circumstances go awry.”
Just an ordinary man….
Musician pals were precious
Pleasant melodies in mind
Friends and family playing tunes
Guitar strumming in behind
Unpretentious, unassuming
For himself he’d do without
He’d prefer to be out hunting
Or fishing for a trout
And if you were out there with him
He’d be happier than you
If you were to catch “the big one”
And he only caught a few.

An ordinary man who was
Married to an ordinary woman.

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