The response to the Guest Host  idea has been a grand success so far. And it’s not just being highlighted with the designation. Our poet/hosts have gotten a view of what goes into the inner workings at CREATIVE BLOOMINGS. It really isn’t as easy as it looks. (OK, it’s not rocket surgery either). But if anything, you’ll gain a new appreciation for the poets who populate this place. In continuing our journey around the globe, we’ve stopped to pick up poet Michelle Hed for her tour through the garden.




Michelle Hed’s love of poetry started as a teenager. There were a few gaps throughout the years but when her youngest daughter was eight and she realized her kids didn’t need her around the clock anymore she started thinking about what she should do when she grew up!

Michelle is an extremely private person and introverted. So when she came across Robert Brewer’s first Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day April Challenge in 2008, she agonized over the decision of putting herself out there. On the internet. Where anyone could find her. She decided YES and jumped in with both feet and has no regrets. Michelle has made wonderful friends she’s never physically met and the sense of community and support has kept her going. She wishes she could reciprocate on a daily basis but as we all know there are so many other things in our lives that sometimes take precedence.

Michelle is a poet, photographer and artist living in Minnesota. She is happiest when she is outside with a camera in her hand and a notebook in her pocket. Her poems have appeared in the following books, magazines and online journals Poetic Bloomings, Sprout, The Fib Review, Pay Attention: A River of Stones, Prompted: An International Collection of Poems, A Handful of Stones, Writer’s Digest, Haiga Online, and was a finalist in the Poetic Asides Poem- A- Day Challenge 2009.

Her photography has been awarded in local contests and has been published in Mouse Tales Press: Prepare for Flight, Minnesota Birding andHoliday Word Gifts. She also has a book, Natural Musings, which contains both her photography and poetry. She maintains a blog,, for all her artistic endeavors. She is married to her best friend, has two beautiful daughters and two mischievous hounds.


PROMPT #144 – “What This Place Needs…”

Think of any really good movie and you can come up with a great tag line that defines it. Think of “Casablanca” and you imagine Bogart voicing “Here’s looking at you, kid!” or “”Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Think Star Wars you hear  Sir Alec Guinness intone, “May the Force be with you.” Jerry Maguire (I know, I know, I said good movie…) you can come up with “You had me at Hello!” and “Show me the money” and “You complete me!” This is a long winded rant to get to the prompt…

Complete this thought and make that thought the title of your poem.

“Every life needs its own______________”



Precious and priceless, held in reverence,
never prideless. Each life has worth.
Our existences deserve to be praised
and raised upon pedestals, all statuesque
tributes to our very breath and purpose.
Celebrated with an elation that lifts
our station, a sacrifice burned on the altar
of the hearts that beat within us; it is in us
to do ourselves proud. It will speak out loud
being heard far and wide; every life in honor and pride.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014



Sometimes you need to unplug
from the world around you,
isolate yourself in your own cocoon
of tranquility, peace
and just exist –
no thoughts.

Placing your thoughts
upon the clouds, unplugging
them from your mind, so they only exist
to drift by… knowing you
can reach up and grab them at any time, a piece
of life’s puzzle to be examined within your cocoon.

The warmth and security of your cocoon
allows you to organize your thoughts
and gain a new perspective and peace
within your body, mind and spirit that had been drained away when plugged
into the running chaos of everyday life. You
are ready to step back and fully exist.

You were existing
but not functioning, needing the sanctuary of your cocoon
to recharge your batteries and energize yourself.
Your thoughts
kept drifting away, seeking to unplug,
seeking peace.

the essence of existing
in our charged up world, unplugging
the ear buds and breaking free of the cocoon
that is muffling your thoughts,
overpowering you.

You are recharged, you
are ready to enter the fray and fight for peace
and order within our borders and within our thoughts.
Ready to exist
side by side with chaos, knowing your haven, your cocoon,
is waiting for you should you need to unplug!

With a steady hand you are ready to exist.
You are at peace again, sanctuary is your cocoon
tucked away within your thoughts, you are not unplugged.

(C) Copyright Michelle Hed – 2014


  1. Wow! What a bar raised right at the beginning, and one of them a sestina, yet! Marvellous pieces, Michelle and Walt.


    the sweetest mouths
    say the stupidest things,
    hence the everlasting need for

    copyright 2014, William Preston

  3. Every Life needs its own Umpire

    Words were spent
    In that day…

    I take you ____to be my lawfully wedded wife/husband.

    To have and to hold…
    From this day forward…
    To love and to cherish…
    For richer, for poorer…
    For better or for worse…
    Eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.

  4. Pingback: Every Life needs its own Woods | Metaphors and Smiles

  5. Every Life needs its own Woods

    Every life needs a breath and a pause
    a patch of pine to collect one’s thoughts,
    an opening in canopy to catch sun’s rays
    and an attentive soul to the birch’s sway.

    Every life needs a favored cluster of moss,
    a familiar friend in the weathered face of fallen log,
    comfort in the caress of wind
    and enjoyment in hollow song of limbs.

    Every life needs a hill of elders,
    a space to communicate with the ancient rocks
    a place to talk with the crow and fox
    and an open heart and listening ears.

    Every life needs a breath and a pause.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014

    I’ll be back soon… happy Sunday poets! 🙂

  6. Every Life Needs its Own Souza March

    From the first trumpet notes, you know
    that you simply cannot sit still.
    You have your marching orders. Move!

    It’s your time to put on a show.
    Drumbeats, horns, and piccolo trill
    are what you need to get your groove

    and soon, before you know it – whoa! –
    you’ll bring to someone else…goodwill.
    C’mon now. Take that step, ‘cause you’ve

    ‘stars and striped’ your life. Ready? Blow!
    The feeling rises – such a thrill.
    With Souza marches, moods improve.

    It’s not just for the fourth, July.
    Don’t let the parade pass you by.


  7. Every Life Needs its Own Mary Poppins Bag

    A floral-printed carpet bag
    can open up a world within.
    Who knows what magic you’ll pull out:

    a book, a teddy bear, a flag,
    a hat rack, spoon or bobby pin,
    or something else that’s cool, no doubt.

    So, reach inside and feel for swag
    and grab a prize ‘cause then you’ll grin.
    See, magic’s what it’s all about.

    Don’t worry – you won’t hit a snag.
    Just open up the bag – begin,
    and let your fingers be your scout.

    A special bag that’s filled with dreams
    is never what the outside seems.


  8. Hey, Michelle, lookin’ good!

    Every Life Needs Its Own Rocket Booster

    Something to get it going.
    A dream, a desire, a purpose.
    A responsibility, a family, a love.
    Or, at least, hunger, thirst, warmth.
    Some sluggish rockets
    need more than one
    with a great fire lit at their tail.


    You can lay down crumbs the way Hansel did,
    Buy a bloodhound with a prize-winning snout,
    Flip a coin or toast a drink to figure out
    Which road to take: “Here’s looking at you, Kid.”

    It’s much wiser to have some kind of plan
    To mark the steps in which you place your feet.
    Why stumble in a dark desolate land
    Colliding with those lost souls whom you meet?

    Check the options, however long it takes.
    Do you seek the glitter this world offers?
    Fame and glory? What treasures will you stake?
    Bright enticing gold to fill life’s coffers?

    Do not leave it all to chance. Plan ahead.
    You fear falling? Avoid the rough terrain.
    Choose the paved overcrowded road instead
    Where sideline paper flowers need no rain.

    A sage once said, “It’s not the road at all
    But where it leads to at the very end.”
    On the smooth journey we may walk quite tall
    But on the stony trek our pains will mend.

    I choose to follow God on my life’s path.
    Where He leads me I trust and have no fear.
    He taught me how to fall but feel no wrath.
    My road map is the Bible I keep near.

    You can laugh and say, “This fool missed the boat.”
    But in a world where all things come to death,
    I take God’s offered hand and walk with hope.
    I praise and thank Him for my every breath.


  10. Every Life Needs Its Own Story

    Setting, characters, theme
    Aspirations, obstacles, subplots
    Denouement, plans for the sequel


    Most babies
    padded edges.

    (c) copyright 2014, William Preston

  12. Hey there, Michelle. (Clauds waves wildly.) It’s great to have you as co-host this week. I love your example. I’m a bit partial to sestina, you know. And Walt, yours was exemplary, as usual. I’m having fun with this one, too.

    What Every Life Needs is a Little Spin

    “Let’s take a spin around town,”
    you say and wink.
    “Why not,” I reply and smile.

    Forty years spinning around
    town, showing off your Corvette,
    waving at neighbors, friends,
    strangers on the street,
    taking pride in your
    and singing to radio oldies.
    I’ve spun clothes on washday;
    you’ve spun yarns for the kids;
    but all fades when we spin the
    wheels of your carmine
    ride from the past.

  13. Pingback: Every Life Needs Its Own Silence | Whimsygizmo's Blog

  14. Loved reading more about you, Michelle! 🙂 Great poems, both of you!
    Thanks for the great prompt.

    Every Life Needs Its Own Silence


    I shall rest here a bit, I think,
    quiet in my own slurred skin,
    drink of this day in steam and
    song, drink long of its word-
    stirred sway.


    -mazing phrase, making way
    through labyrinth line, let’s
    shine a little light on nothing
    for a change, rearrange feathers
    for future flight.


  15. Every Life needs its own Hysterical Medicine

    Until it hurts.

    Laugh until the cows come home with sunglasses and giant headphones blasting Bob Marley.

    Laugh until the fat lady crescendos and coughs horribly on the final stanza.

    Laugh until hell freezes over miraculously due to something called a polar vortex.

    Laugh until pigs fly rampant in your apartment and ask you if you could eat more chicken.

    Laugh hardy, until you find the rodent elephant scampering around your house like a zealous chipmunk.

    Laugh so uncontrollably, that your kids think you’re smoking something that they aren’t.

    Laugh so hysterically, that you lack all bodily function and are arrested for public embarrassment.

    Laugh so bad, that your closest friends will beg you if your doctor can prescribe them the same medicine.

  16. Every Life needs its own Shoulder

    A shoulder.
    To cry on.
    Lean against.
    Depend on.
    When things fly south
    Of the border
    And never return.

    A shoulder of strength.
    To help you recover
    Assist you in time of need.
    Take a bullet
    When necessary
    And even for you bleed.

    To buckle down.
    Bear the brunt.
    Furrow it’s brow.
    Wipe the sweat
    Put you on top.
    Man the day.
    Direct the parade.
    Without regret.

    Then lower the shoulder
    And be the ox.
    Bearing the burden.
    Until the course is tread.
    The day withered
    And gone.
    But there is bread.
    On the table.

    A shoulder.
    To keep.
    To put your arm around.
    When you weep.
    Make you feel the warmth
    Without a sound.
    A silent fire burns.
    Ever so brightly.
    And you know.
    Stability is here.

  17. “Every life needs its own mirror”
    (a pantoum)

    Every life needs its own burnished mirror
    to peer into the far-flung past.
    A tool to reflect our trodden paths,
    whether wise, resolute, or marred.

    To peer into the far-flung past,
    then disclose our truths and errs.
    Whether wise, resolute, or marred,
    Echo-casting of years yet unknown.

    Then, disclose our truths and errs
    so the future repeats each mended rove.
    Echo-casting of years yet unknown,
    every life needs its own burnished mirror.

  18. Every Life Needs its own Closet

    Every life needs its own closet, lined with shelves,
    to house reminders of our many selves—
    the mitts and rackets of an active life
    still good as new almost, each parcel rife
    with memories of when we were athletic,
    or someone who could make crowds sympathetic.
    And side-by-side are skills we hardly tried,
    boxes of almosts, one days, tucked inside.

    It’s true such closets, cavernous and stacked,
    can make us keenly feel talents we lacked.
    It’s true that willy-nilly here and there,
    we glimpse successes, losses we can’t bear,
    heartbreaks in tissue paper, joys so keen
    we hardly recognize these selves we’ve been.

    But every life has things too good to junk,
    moments we are not done with in a trunk,
    objects we loved so dearly over time
    that though they’re threadbare, we call them sublime
    and do not toss them to the rubbish heap
    because they clothe a memory we keep.

    Imagine all the selves we recollect—
    some naughty, hardly worthy of respect;
    some curious, courageous periscope
    from bubble wrap, their heads turbaned in hope.
    Some kind, loving, and gentle walk with shame
    that wretched, mean, and stubborn weren’t the same.

    Pictures of long ago, an Easter hat,
    an honor pin, wild flowers, smiles pressed flat,
    certificates and letters, ribbon bound,
    old worn-out jeans and journals lost, now found;
    a baby’s bonnet, toys and rubber nose,
    proof of our fear and whimsy, lives we chose.

    And yet we keep them all, make room for more
    until life clears the shelves, shows us the door.
    We think, perhaps quite rightly, we will mend
    the memories our actions helped to rend.
    We want a chance to edit and rewrite,
    a chance to change our stories, phrase life right,

    whatever that means; we feel we aren’t done
    and feel sometimes we’ve only now begun
    to understand the parcels we have saved,
    the passages to perils we have braved.
    We shuffle through, reshelve bits, wanly sigh
    for life’s closet expands until we die.

    • I think this is stunningly good. The rhymes all fit and are not forced, and the argument builds beautifully. Thanks for this.

    • Jane, you have written a poem full of truth and not a little sadness for me. When we moved last year it was necessary to give away/ junk/sell great chunks of our lives – sighing at the memories, the why did we stop doing this, that or the other? It made me feel that many doors were closing for us. A powerful poem.

      • Thanks to you all for your kind comments. Viv, I understand completely. Every time I clean closets, I’m both shamed and entertained by the totally useless (except to me) objects I consider throwing away, but always fold back into a box. Memories I’m not finished with, you know. The thing is, though, Viv, you once did do all those things and that never changes. Doors never close on what you’ve done and were, although new doors open and we shuffle on through them. Thanks for your connection.

    • This is more than excellent, Jane. It sums up each life, whether intended or not. Whether mementos remain memory only or physical items, our closets cannot be cleaned out–only rearranged as we sift through, looking for specifics from moment to moment.

      This one will stick with me for sure. Thank you, Jane.

    • You’ve covered so many of the different facets of a life fully lived, all the physical and emotional shining gem like qualities and otherwise.

      I love this phrase:

      “they clothe a memory we keep.”

      Love the idea of a memory being clothed like this…so much great sound play in this poem, too. Beautiful Jane!


    It’s like the mulligan you’re granted in golf
    The “forgiving” done when learning a game
    So often in life, things are bound to happen
    Unplanned things, that you wish you could redo
    Have another shot at, if only, you find yourself
    Thinking, if only you could have that one back
    Rewind the clock, rewind the tape…go back
    And do whatever it was that didn’t go well
    You know you would do it better, make it right.

  20. Pingback: Every Life Needs Its Own Laugh Track | echoes from the silence


    Not the kind
    that sounds fake or canned;
    but rather,
    the laughter
    of friends – the kind that reminds
    us it’s good to laugh.

  22. Every Life Needs its own Regulation

    (Every life has a definite nature, a distinct essence, and a particular form)

    Why doesn’t sloth sprint like cheetah?
    Cat bark like leaping hound?

    Mice laced with feathers fancy,
    Or with kangaroos feet abound?

    Don’t teach the cardinal it’s beauty
    Or finch the fineness of his perch.
    Bluejay his moving antics.
    Or worm to burrow beneath the earth.

    Don’t teach peaches their sweetness.
    Nor lecture bees to find their fill.
    Vultures only know their swooping.
    The ant only knows his skill.

  23. Wow, Michelle, you are off to a brilliant start!


    Every life needs its own imagination
    or stagnation will set in, ruts too tough
    to climb out of, sameness settling in
    like a virus. Stop this! You can see
    beaches brightening your day, animals
    having animated conversations,
    or mad tea parties with disappearing
    cats, and a red queen who clearly
    is bats. Close your eyes and transport
    yourself to a place of your own

  24. Every Life Needs Its Own Flavor

    Orange spice, lavender or strawberry
    Chocolate, jasmine or cherry
    Whatever that’s alluring
    That wafts in a calling
    Follow the trail
    Decipher its grail
    In a passionate quest
    Add a fresh hearted zest
    Don’t hold back its pitches
    Slowly savor in its riches—

    I reach out for chamomile
    What fancies your zeal?

  25. Every Life Needs It’s Own PPK

    With Death in his rear view mirror
    He lives every moment
    Like it just might be
    His last
    But it’s not
    Not even close

    Women adore him
    Men abhor him
    Danger surrounds him
    And he embraces it
    Beats it down
    And walks on

    © 2014 Earl Parsons

  26. Yay, Mik! It is so nice to see you here…and you do it with a sestina! I bow down to you.
    (but you’ll get no sestina out of me! nope. nuh-uh. Ain’t gonna’ do it.) 😉


    An honest man
    is boon to friend and child and wife;
    an honest man
    remains consistent as he can
    in times of calm and times of strife.
    Praised be the elixir of life:
    an honest man.

    (c) copyright 2014, William Preston


    Let Us make a self-portrait
    Humanity alone will reflect Our nature
    Humanity, but not a man nor a woman
    Every person born is a fleck of paint
    Drawn by Us in unique detail
    We’ll embody ourselves in nature so they will hear
    Our voice echoed in its rhythm and song
    We’ll imitate Our dimensions so they will see Us
    From hummingbird to Everest
    Families and sex epitomize Our love
    Like a funny house, they distort Our image
    We were the Word before we gave them minds to learn
    The words we use to represent us
    Every vision is seen through a dark mirror, broken
    Until Our light replaces the sun and we meet face to face
    Every knee bowed, Our portrait complete

    By Darlene Franklin

  29. Every Life needs its own Parade

    Heady Lions sprint through hoops, leading the pack in rumbling roars.
    Acrobatic squirrels juggle little acorns tip their hats.
    Rhinoceros in suit, bow tie and cuffs
    Spins a ball on tip of tusk.
    Spider monkeys sprawl and spring
    While maintaining their balance.
    Avid Kangaroo belly dancers quickly make a scene, draws a crowd.
    A dozen timid does travel In a pack tiptoeing on hoofs.
    Tuba shaped petunias sound their praise brightly in unison.
    Red robins well-pleasing to the eye; in tight formation, bank left, right like a red banner in flight.

    And the parade continues…

  30. Every life needs its own memory stick

    As we get older
    failing memories flounder,
    forget those useful numbers
    for cars and phones,
    and vital passwords,
    blank the names of friends.
    A flash disk would be handy
    with a body-mounted USB port
    fine and dandy for recalling
    those details that slip our minds.

  31. Every Life needs its own Lollipop

    Come and get it!

    It’s the new
    Rockin’ Raspberry
    Berry Blast Double dip
    Texas Twister!
    Limited edition!

    Yes! That’s it!
    It’s coming in style!
    And she’ll treat you right!

    Ya just can’t stop with one lick!
    Don’t be a sap try a pack!

    Come get a grip while supplies last!
    Only a sucker could pass this up!

    Don’t get caught without it!
    Approved for all ages!

    This advertisement is brought by LICKIN’ GOOD LOLLIPOPS.
    Where we serve your lips very well.

    And who said life wasn’t sweet?

  32. Only one more. I just couldn’t resist.

    Every Life Needs a Pot of Beans

    Fresh or dried, boiled or baked
    they come by the pound.
    Their fragrance wafts across
    kitchen, park and playground,
    leaving behind detractors
    or enthusiasts, according to type.
    Contests abound for their non-musical sound,
    To test the uncertain power of the bean.
    To witness a life relieved of internal strife,
    Simply follow one who leaves the crowd green.

  33. Every life needs its own balance
    A time when the day ahead can mark
    The sleepdreamtime to come
    But for now the day only sparks
    And I, sleepless dreamless
    Flounder on in search of lost and lonely

    • Aw, Megan, you put enough wistfulness in this to bring a tear to the eye. Never having suffered this malady, I cannot fully relate, though I can sympathize as one who’s pulled more all-nighters than I care to remember. Your words are certainly effective.

      I wish you a full night of rest, whether taken in the daytime or not. If all you can do is close your eyes and rest your body, do that. Allow you mind to wander where it will, dream what images it conjures up, and slide into them to experience whatever daydream appears.

  34. Every Life Need Its Own Alternate Ending

    I covet an alternate type of life—
    Flaunting pearls of glamour on a string
    Long luncheons with girlfriends
    and personal fitness sessions
    Hours soaking at the spa
    Ah! Cristal dripping on ice
    Fielding agent phone calls
    My books on the best seller list—twice

    In the real world
    I am a referee
    Breaking up fights between
    toddlers who claw and scratch
    A luncheon would be nice,
    but I need to take a bath
    And clean the kitchen; pick up toys—
    Oh boy! I think I’ll just crash

  35. Every Life Needs Some Air

    One that talks to your bones
    And sings in your ears
    That blows out dirty laundry
    That puffs in fresh views
    and fluffs up dense rues

    Every life needs some air
    That pushes dark shadows
    And pulls you to light
    That smoothens your feathers
    That opens your layers
    and spreads your wings—
    Every life, needs some air

  36. My Life Needs Theme Music

    It’s the quiet I can’t bear, left here
    alone inside my life. The company—
    it’s not so bad—I’ve made peace,
    come to terms with myself after
    all those years of wrestling ghosts.

    The music piped into the elevator,
    following me through cosmetics,
    up to the mezzanine, innocuous
    at best, at worst, gave me a thought.
    I need my own theme music,

    playing always in the background,
    following me out the door,
    through the park, something easy
    in just the right key, so I can hum
    along, imagining the words I’d sing.

    A catchy little tune that works as well
    on keyboard as on strings. Some days,
    I’d like to hear the music swell, evoking
    images of men and women, all in black,
    playing from the orchestra pit; on others,

    I might hear a single flutist, strolling
    along behind me, our own parade
    of two. At home alone, let me catch
    snatches of the tune, whistled, perhaps
    from someone crossing my lawn, someone
    about to step up to my door and knock.

    N. Posey
    (I can’t get this site to let me sign in as myself!)

  37. Every Life needs it’s own Liberty

    The garden earth, that holds perfect blossom, possesses a temporal beauty.
    Her grass withers, her flowers fall off.
    Can tulip blossom endure beyond it’s appointed season?
    Can the arresstive color of rose withstand its own wilt?
    Can it’s mother soil, which holds it’s petaled blood be free of guilt?
    The gravity of death presumes the victory, siphons every breath, and shall win the fall with valor.
    Can the seeking child be free from smiting hand?
    Can perfectionist be free of self-inflicted wound, and the unattainable bar of her high demand?
    What can free the crook from the thorn of his envy and his perpetual want?
    What can liberate a human being demonically violated by an illicit drug?
    That soon possesses the fiber of their enticed soul, dampens their spirit, and pervades the chemistry of their physical body unto ruin.
    What can free men from the iron cage of their pride? What can starve it of it’s wild hunger? Until it wanes into an impotent corpse. Then there would be no more corruption spotted on the garden earth.
    What can free men from the malicious appetite of greed?
    What else do we really need?
    What can liberate from the pain of boredom and monotony of human life?
    Shall we be saved from complaint, endless worry, trivial strives?
    Can we be freed from the brutality of aging? And the gradual wilt of awesome blossom?
    Shall we be freed from the sting of death, and the ruthless power of the grave?

    Much liberty is needed. Much freedom is craved. Where there is liberty their is freedom.

    (2 cor. 3:17)

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