As evidenced by the chatter accompanying this week’s poetry, tooting our own horn is uncomfortable for most of us.  Walt is grand at stretching our minds and pulling us out of our comfort zone, and the results are always amazing.

This is an appropriate week to celebrate accomplishments, as we are in the midst of the Games of the XXX Olympiad.  We are not all Olympic Gold Medal winners, but, as Walt says, “In this world, the little things are as celebrated (or should be) as the big ones.”  Hear, hear.


As always, I had a difficult time choosing only one poem to highlight. I finally settled in on Pamela Smyk Cleary’s untitled piece.  This was before knowing that it would be a nice little birthday gift for her today.  Honest.  😉  Happy Birthday, PSC!

Of course it is well written, but I must admit that it is the heart sentiment of Pamela’s poem that I find so captivating.  The words of Claudette express my own feelings best:  “… it is within those moments of selfless kindness that much more is accomplished than is ever recorded in our lives or our minds, for those are times when our hands are guided by other forces for the betterment of ourselves and those around us.”  With that, I offer my Bloom to one who personifies these selfless kindnesses.

UNTITLED (by Pamela Smyk Cleary)

“Who me?” she said,
“I’ve done nothing
with my life;
no heroics,
or kudos I recall
with pride
(due or un-)

Pleased instead
by little gifts, un-
anticipated, not
expected or requested,
(nor bestowed near often enough)
only given in joy and love
(and ofttimes anonymity)

Elderly walks cleared of snow,
gardens weeded,
poems, novels to read,
puzzles built in tandem,
treasures of time
to fill lonely afternoons;
smiles left behind
when I am


Walt has family commitments this weekend, but made certain to let me know his Bloom choice:  Elizabeth Johnson’s “I Go On.”   Elizabeth’s poem addresses her continuing battle with an incurable illness, Wegener’s Granulomatosis.  As Elizabeth pointed out, “…perhaps my greatest accomplishment (albeit only by Another’s strength):  that I have continued to fight, to live, to find my normal.”  Elizabeth expresses her story beautifully and completely in few words … an accomplishment in itself.

I Go On. (by Elizabeth Johnson)

Could be fatal, they said.
And there I lay, diseased and
missing half my blood – it had
disintegrated, gone away,
lifeblood no longer life.

Could be treated, they said.
And there I prayed; and took
one pill, one prayer, one day
by itself – baby steps when
I could barely walk at all.

Could improve, they said.
And there I leapt, yet leaning
on another and Another;
his arms, his legs – working for mine;
His strength working for mine.

Could recur, they said.
And there I wept, afraid to
live for fear that fears would live.

And there I paused.

But then, so tired of the waiting,
the not living–

Could go on! I said.
And there I grew, aware
that life was made to live,
and thrive – and I was made
to fight, and go on living.

 Congratulations to our Bloom recipients … just two from our garden of accomplished poets.