"Christmas Tree Goes on a Diet" Published

My blog's featured post this month was the first draft of a poem recently revised and published in the December Your Country Neighbor. Both the blog and publication include before and after photos of our Christmas tree. This far into the holiday season, with all of its sweet temptations, I'm already planning my next diet, too.

Christmas Tree Goes on a Diet

by Janet Sobczyk, 2018

Dressed in green

bedecked in red bling

white lights, white angel

carols in the air

eggnog for sweet sipping

multicolored presents

invited children to shake and peek.

Years passed

angel perch broke

children grew

long legs needed space

a tree so full and fat

hardly fit the room

time to buy a new one.

Brought it home

dressed it the same

stood back, admired

new tree was much thinner

seems over the summer

dear old tree

went on a diet!

Missing Him

Missing Him

A memorial poem

by Janet Sobczyk, 2018

She wandered the house, looking

for him, lost, alone.

He’s gone, she didn’t understand

why, why was he taken?

She laid down, weary

with grief, sleeping the day away.

His scent lingered, drawn to it

at night, waiting for him to return.

She knew he was ill, fading

into a skeleton, barely able to eat.

Everyone thought, she’d go

first from the stroke, but she rebounded.

 He succumbed, nothing

could be done, it was over.

Lacey mourned her constant

companion, her litter mate, Tanner.

Lacey and Tanner holding paws.

Lacey alone.

Postscript... Lacey mourned Tanner less than 2 months before joining him. 
It's hard to lose two beloved dogs in such a short time.

"Trespassing" and "De-Feathering My Nest" Published

In July,YCN reprinted my poem, "Trespassing" and also published, "De-Feathering My Nest." Thanks for allowing me so much space, Editor Stephen Hassler!

Please check out the complete issue online at: 
http://www.yourcountryneighbor.com/YCN/July2018.pdf.

2 Short Poems published in YCN, June 2018

The June issue of Your Country Neighbor contains 2 of my poems:

This is a syllabic poem (3 per line.) When I tapped it out upon completion, it reminded me of the hoof beats of a galloping horse. I'd like to say that was intentional, but it wasn't. I just like to write that way sometimes. But for this poem it's appropriate!

They Feel Like Summer

by Janet Sobczyk, ©2017

Buff leather

two-inch heels

finger loops

pointy toes

bring to mind

days of youth.

Sweet sixteen

cut-off jeans

halter tops

no sunscreen

wind in hair

horse-back rides.

Middle age

walking tall

with tan dog

slower now

wearing new

cowboy boots.

The next poem, in couplets, was written after a drive to the store recently. It was a windy day and when I stopped for a red light I noticed this scene. It stuck with me, so I had to write it down. 

Wind on the Wire

by Janet Sobczyk, ©2018

Three brown birds

perch on an electric wire

two snuggle close

one stays inches away

all cling fast, feet clasp

holding on

facing the wind

wings firmly folded

gray tail feathers dip

enduring the gusts

weathering the storm

riding like bronco busters.

I wonder, Why stay?

Why don’t they find shelter?

Maybe they enjoy the thrill-ride

of wind on the wire.

2 Poems published in YCN, May 2018

These 2 poems appear in the May issue of Your Country Neighbor. I love the spider and flag photos that accompany them, as well as all the other poetry.  Check it out!

The Irony of Spider Webs
by Janet Sobczyk, ©2011

Sometimes I stand in wonder
at the spider web
woven overnight
between car and bush. 
I stop to examine it, 
sturdy and sticky enough
to catch the largest insects,
but dainty and sparkly, 
beautiful, symmetrical.
Could easily be ruined
by the swipe of a mean broom.

Sometimes I simply marvel
at the swift acrobatics
and skill of the small spider
who crafted this masterpiece,
and rests at the far edge
waiting for food to be snared,
then springs into action
like a small cowboy roping,
wrapping the victim in silk.
I ponder the poor fly’s plight…
it is the circle of life.


Sometimes I don’t see the web,
and walk right through it! 
It stretches beyond limits,
instantly adheres to skin.
I cringe from the shock of it,
dance around peeling strands
in sheer disgust.
The invisible silk sticks
in hair, on fingers.
Recoil in fear, just think… 
the spider might be on me!


At a Veteran’s Graveside Service 
By Janet Sobczyk ©2017 
In memory of Tom Otto of Norfolk, NE.

We step amid headstones, through parallel rows
a motorcycle honor guard in Harley vests
holds stars and stripes on long poles.

Mourners gather under a green canvas tent
with bowed heads we listen to a final blessing
carried away by the wind.

With focus downward, I notice shoes:
brown penny loafers
white shiny flats

black stilettos digging divots
blue sandals with matching toenails
tan boots with camo pants tucked in.

A yellow butterfly weaves on the breeze
amidst legs, alights on flowers
cascading over the casket.

“Taps” begins to play
but the bugle sounds tinny
I turn to see a seasoned vet in dress blues.

Holding horn to lips with white-gloved hand
he isn’t playing
it’s a recording.

When done he lowers the bugle
discreetly turns off device in its bell
and salutes.

A son of the vet takes roses off the casket
hands them to women with hugs and tears
the crowd disperses.

Car doors slam
tires crunch on gravel
as the line snakes through the gate.


At home, my red rose
stands silently in a simple vase
and wilts.

"Black Jelly Beans" and "Holes" Published

These 2 springtime poems, as well as an abbreviated version of "Pops of Red," appear in Your Country Neighbor, April 2018. 

Black Jelly Beans
by Janet Sobczyk ©️2018

No black jelly beans.
And by the day after Easter, no chocolate.

Grocery shopping
colorful Easter display
bag of black jelly beans.

Pick it up
sorrowful smile
clutching memories.

Used to buy these
only for Mom
no one else liked them.

Now she’s gone
still tempted to buy them
set the bag down.

Slowly walk away
Easter’s not the same
without black jelly beans.

Holes

by Janet Sobczyk ©️2016

It’s hard to enjoy

tromping through

fresh fallen snow

on a brisk winter’s day

when there’s a hole in your boot.

It’s impossible to enjoy

the pitter patter of raindrops

or the melting snows

of springtime

when there’s a hole in your roof.

It’s difficult to enjoy

the journey to

a long-planned vacation

or family reunion

when there’s a hole in your tire.

It’s bittersweet to enjoy

daily blessings

joyful happenings

and tender moments

when there’s a hole in your heart.

"A Silent Retreat in Winter" Published

This was published in the March 2018 issue of Your Country Neighbor,

a rural Nebraska newspaper that I enjoy reading. Check it out online!

Peaceful reading room at St. Benedict Retreat Center in Schuyler, NE

A Silent Retreat in Winter 

by Janet Sobczyk, 2018

“An oasis of silence”

pamphlets proclaim 

nestled into a Nebraska plain 

quiet beckons 

I answer the call 

to a weekend of introspection.

Brick walls secure amid 

brown native grasses 

whispering secrets into the wind 

tell of burdens unloaded 

by troubled humans seeking 

rest, and answers.

Martin houses stand empty 

trees shiver naked 

evergreens form an honor guard 

flagpole ropes clap a rhythm 

an azure sky longs for 

the return of birds.

Inside, silence reigns 

voices turn to lowest volume 

carpeting hushes footsteps 

windows encourage day dreaming 

artwork begs a long look 

chapel awaits with magnetic pull.

At meals, utensils clink 

self-consciously against plates 

conversation in the kitchen 

intrudes through opening door 

ears perk at the sudden sound 

napkins dab satisfied mouths.

People arise 

smiling their goodbyes 

walk wordlessly to solitary nooks 

or meander pathways 

around a half-frozen pond 

created for reflection.

Time tells me to leave 

but heart wants to stay 

reading, writing, praying, listening 

heals the stress 

clears the head 

sends me on my way.

I wrote this while attending the January 2018 women’s silent guided retreat at St. Benedictine Retreat Center in Schuyler, Nebraska. The photo is a sunny, quiet spot where I enjoyed writing.

Pops of Red

During January and February, I yearn for spring, which seems so far away. The flower show at the Cathedral remedied my blues this weekend. I especially enjoyed the accents of red florals and berries, placed in stark contrast to the white lily and hydrangeas in this photo.

Gradually other pops of red entered my thoughts, and a list of couplets resulted. Some are commonplace and others fanciful.  My mind’s eye revels in the reds!

Can you think of more?

Pops of Red

By Janet Sobczyk, 2018©

Like a magnet, my eye is drawn to a pop of red,

regardless of emotion, that’s where it’s led. 

A male cardinal

on a snow-blanketed branch

A Flexible Flyer sled

at the crest of a hill

A first-to-show tulip

in a spring flowerbed

A poppy umbrella

on a gray rainy day

A freshly-painted barn

in acres of green

A cluster of bright balloons

in an azure sky

A spray of fragrant roses

on a polished casket

A potted geranium

on a wooden porch

A maroon door

on a white house

A meandering ladybug

on an open window sill

A cherished Valentine

on a crowded nightstand

A queen of hearts

in a handful of spades

A splash of burgundy

on a lace tablecloth

A Jonathan apple

in a basket of bananas

A red M&M

in a bowl of peanuts

A long-stemmed cherry

on a hot fudge sundae

A wedge of watermelon

on a flimsy paper plate

A garnish of berries

on sliced angel food

A splotch of ketchup

on a satin blouse

A set of manicured nails

around a steaming mug

A deep coral lipstick

on winter-paled skin.

A crimson wool coat

in a crowded church

An auburn ponytail

in a group of blondes

A single red carnation

on a black lapel

A ruby pendant

on a strand of pearls

A pair of scarlet stilettos

below a skinny black dress

A candy apple Corvette

in a row of silver sedans

"Natural Order" a poem in five parts

                                 

This NE Writers Guild anthology was released in late December. I feel honored to have been included in it.

The  four-page poem, "Natural Order," is about my five children. 

Birth order and it's impact on personalities is the basis for the subtitles of the five parts. The "natural" part of it refers to things found in nature (a dandelion, a fawn, a cheetah, a dolphin, and a caterpillar) that are metaphors for each of my unique children. 

The book is available on Amazon.