Wednesday, November 30, 2011


November 30, 2011- Small Stones
 Margo Roby Prompt- 11-30-2011-the acrostic
belated  by  Teri H Hoover

Born into this heart at high noon.
Into this heart, often filled with light.
Returning each year, with a sideways path.
To remember beginnings, I would rather forget.
Healed scars push at the tension-
Directly beneath the cake and presents.
Averting collisions with forced gifts and strangled wishes.
Yearning to go beyond that yearly reminder of a childhood


Another dark response to a lovely prompt-  I am quite sure I will get over this phase soon. Another 50 years should do it.



November 30, 2011- Small Stones
late  by  Teri H Hoover

Big brown oak leaves 
skittering up the street.
Are you late for yoga class too?


Tuesday, November 29, 2011


November 27, 2011- Small Stones
tired  by  Teri H Hoover

Puffy eyelid clouds
surround the sun.
Electric wire crows feet 
underline the sleep deprived orb.

I did not get much sleep last night.


Sunday, November 27, 2011

late november

November 27, 2011- Small Stones
late November  by  Teri H Hoover

As we walk the Huckleberry Trail at dusk 
a surprising number of crickets
keep Pepper and I company.
December will be here in three days.

...and then as I finish sending my stone
I look up to see a skunk 10 feet ahead.
Back peddling onto the bridge.
Stamping my feet and scaring my dog,
the skunk wanders off the path.
We continue only after another person passes first.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011


November 22, 2011- Small Stones 
warm  by  Teri H Hoover

The workers red jacket hung carelessly in the tree.
It's a warm day for the end of November.

Monday, November 21, 2011

reckless resisting

November 21, 2011- Small Stones 
reckless resisting  by  Teri H Hoover

Dimly, dusk descended,
deliberately, drinking distance.

A laughing yellow leaf heart,
dangles, undaunted in the dampness.

Sunday, November 20, 2011


November 20, 2011- Small Stones 
loud  by  Teri H Hoover

the flat footed runner approached
wearing a blaze orange shirt


side pocket

side pocket  by  Teri H Hoover 

just a tiny bit sassy
satisfied with the way I walk
a smile falls from my hips

Side Pocket by Paul Taylor
Side Pocket (Album Version)ss


November 20, 2011- Small Stones 
clever  by  Teri H Hoover

Feigning restfulness, my dog fuses to my side.
Hoping to push me out of bed.


Saturday, November 19, 2011


November 19, 2011- Small Stones 
evening  by  Teri H Hoover

evening stands on bare branches.

darkness leans into dim shapes.

I am anchored to my dog.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

scattered connections

November 15, 2011- Small Stones 
scattered  connections  by  Teri H Hoover

Walking through drizzle, I see her.
She stands looking puzzled 

on her porch.
She waves me toward her.

She wants to pet my dog.
I approach, 

admiring the magnificent red carpet of freshly fallen leaves. 
She pets my dog, warily keeping one eye on all those leaves.

"It's never done this before."

Bewildered I look again at the tree standing in the rain.
Maybe she saw something else.

Blacksburg, Va- Nov 15 2011

I spoke with the elderly woman's daughter the next day. 
She said her mother will fret until all those leaves are picked up.

Sunday, November 13, 2011


November 13, 2011- Small Stones 
impressions  by  Teri H Hoover

The sun peered out hazily 
obscured by a cataract of clouds,
  Making little impression. 

Saturday, November 12, 2011


November 12, 2011- Small Stones 
ascent  by  Teri H Hoover
On the trail today I was sure no observations would arise to be observed~I was wrong.
Two faceless runners; back lit by the sun 
low in the autumn sky. 
Powerful strides synchronized and elegant.
Magnificent Clydesdale silhouettes-
Remembering to breath as they pass by.
I turn my head 
to follow their effortless ascent.
The sun warming shirtless brown skin.


Friday, November 11, 2011


November 11, 2011- Small Stones 
pockets  by  Teri H Hoover
My dog lays curled up on the quilt.
The curve of her back supports my ribcage.
Comfortably her chin rests on a black paw,
the tip of her tail touching her nose.
My hand between her back leg and warm belly, a fur lined pocket.


Tuesday, November 08, 2011

fogged in

He stood at the stove cooking onions and meat, and the room filled with greasy smoke.
Meanwhile my brain, overcome with exhaustion, was sucking my eyelids towards my chin.
The smoke gave the additional dimension of actual fogginess to complete my brains delirium.

The story behind this is I have a house guest who likes to cook. He was in the midst of making dinner and smoke begum to fill up the kitchen.  It  was not until he ask me where the button was for the exhaust fan was that I realized that the kitchen was full of smoke.  
That was a fun prompt- thanks Kathy!


dreaming of release

Use Edward Hopper’s Cape Cod painting as the prompt for writing today.
Dreaming of Release  by  Teri H Hoover
The breath of winter
within the dying grass of autumn
that surrounds my sisters house.

Layers of loss
echo behind the clapboard walls.
A sadness heard from far away.
Like a scars upon her heart, she holds them to herself.

 Edward Hopper- Cape Cod

Monday, November 07, 2011

over the line

November 7, 2011- Small Stones 
over the line  by  Teri H Hoover

Stark tree shadows
unravel on the  bike path.
I am crossing many lines.


Thursday, November 03, 2011

aging gracefully

November 3, 2011- Small Stones 
aging gracefully   by  Teri H Hoover
 The aging leaves embraced the sunshine with the exuberance of a small child.
second try...
The faces of the aging leaves 
lit up with the exuberance of a small child
on this sunny autumn afternoon.


Wednesday, November 02, 2011

the lime and me

November 2, 2011- -Tuesday Tryouts Prompt
Write a poem of four quatrains that contains no adjectives, no adverbs, no similes, and the word “lime”.
the lime and me  by  Teri H Hoover

Afraid (Consumed by fear) of margaritas
the lime sat on the table
wrapped in plastic.
With the teapot for company.

I needed a dictionary
or a drink.
I wanted words
but could not think.

I wanted to stop
the lime did too.
I needed my friends
What could I do?

Ready to quit
This prompt and not go on.
The lime screamed- “Stop!”
Write now.

Adjectives, adverbs, similes... 
I love them so.
I may have used one of the forbidden parts of speech-
just let me know.

Tuesday, November 01, 2011

after the fog

November 1, 2011- Small Stones
after the fog  by  Teri H Hoover
When the sun was ready it leaned into the fog 
creating a puddle of transparent shadows
beside me and my dog.