All posts by Shari Smothers

About Shari Smothers

Welcome to Telling Stories, my creative writing space. My name is Shari Smothers. Poems help me to understand the world and to explain my world to others. They're my premier story telling tools. There's more to come, so please share with me through reading, commenting, emailing. Learn more about Shari here. And do come again!


Asking, prodding, pushing,
piling on more and more,
all as if to see
just how much I can bear
headed toward some huge goal.

It all becomes noise
unclear, indistinguishable
as I pull away to work away
and then regroup
at my own pace.

These days, I accept the usual
recurrence of noise readily.
It is now my herald that
a deadline is almost reached,
and subsequent vacation time is upon me.

© 2014 Shari Lynne Smothers

A Long Way from Home

It seems I’ve forgot
the science of poetry,
fallen out of step with it’s
rhythms and sundry metrics.
Ever more frequently I’m become
clingy to dictionaries and thesauri
convinced I’m bereft of even
minor right words for even
the lesser lines.

Time has lied regularly lately
saying he’s on his way.
Write when I get there, he says.
I’ll give you plenty space
to record your powerful thoughts.

Somewhere along my way,
has taken over my home
denying and permitting my
residency at his discretion.
Like anybody else seduced by
the lie that there would one day come
Time Enough, I stayed my return
and allowed my busyness to keep me
from pen and pad to rest my
‘powerful thoughts’ that used to be
my primary home, no matter what.

Back here, today, though
after so long
so far away,
I slip easily into the welcome
remembered familiarity
and something more…
I understand,
my poetry has missed me too.

© 2013 by Shari Lynne Smothers

A Monday Haiku

Spring Time’s Power to Incite is nothing new to me. Every year, nature’s clock ticks into this season that inspires me to contemplate being on the cusp of all possibility.


Spring lights soft
whispers to sleeping
dreams wake, make life new.


Temperatures rise
thawing, clearing winter’s frosts
summoning blossoms.


Comes boldly raining
dreamed of hopes flowering into
vivid reality.

©2013 Shari Lynne Smothers

What Will Come

August breeze blows into me,
delivering first respite
from sweltering deep south heat
that kept my skin cooking
even standing still.

    A short step
into newly temperate air
inspires quiet ideas
brimming with potential
    tugging at my attentions.
Brings forth a soft smile
in anticipation of
nothing concrete
only tangible
    as possibility can be.
Causes just the slightest
quiver in my stomach —
imagination tinged with a promise
that what will come —
    it’s gonna be good.

    I welcome the
    august breeze blowing in to me.

© Shari Lynne Smothers 9/12/12


In preparing for my time off from work, I am going back in my journals to pull poems I like. Rather than wait until Day 1 of my Christmas holiday vacation, I’m kicking things off a week early.

Summer to Fall in New Orleans is a great time, and very special for me. The first break from the 90s to 100s is a magical renewing gift. This poem is one that blew off the branch to land on my page.

The Field Trip

One day I brought my nephew
to see the ducks that soothed me
when I was able to break up
my work days with them.
A precocious boy of three or four,
he declared during his energetic effort to
keep up with them, running happily
as the ducks swam deftly, indifferently,
“Is this all, because
this really isn’t that fun.”

I smiled to hear the words
contradicted by his racing back and forth
belting out Oh’s and Look!s
at the slightest indication they were
interacting with him.
He was appreciating my field trip
through his gleeful activity, even though
his words made me know he didn’t yet
recognize the power nature
has to enthrall him.

I had done a good thing after all.

© 2012 Shari Lynne Smothers