That sudden soft midnight footfall outside my room? I’m hoping it was you.
The Weekend Writing Prompt is to write a poem in 13 words.
That sudden soft midnight footfall outside my room? I’m hoping it was you.
The Weekend Writing Prompt is to write a poem in 13 words.
I am trying to escape the menagerie—
all those selves I hold in front of me
as well as the ones I have let escape.
Those that run ahead—
the ones that are my future selves—
are here, hidden in the portrait that you see.
Domineering, perhaps. But seasoned with
an awareness of what might have created
all of the parts of myself I try to reign in.
This has produced a certain slowness to connect.
The natural is seasoned with a desire to honor dreams
of what I hope to be. When I look in the mirror,
I see them all: my mother and my grandmother
and my sisters. We demand, are stubborn.
Sometime we are martyrs, stifling tears.
Then suddenly, I pass them by like memories
of nightmares: all the anxiety attacks,
illnesses and heartbreak.
We are all wonderful performers,
using bad luck to fuel good.
The belles of our own ball,
we push back the grim news
of what we fear we really are.
Headstrong, we reach for what we can be.
Utterly addicted to change,
Tony or no Tony,
we are the stars of our own lives.
The SOCS prompt is Portrait
For Fibbing Friday, the assignment is: What do you make of these?
1. What is a skiff? A very poor ranking for a ski jump.
2. What is a liner? Art Linkletter’s half brother.
3. What is a ferry? The means by which a tiny mythical winged. creature is conveyed from shore to an island.
4. What is a destroyer? A puppy, up to the age of 1.
5. What is a cruiser? A party given for the employees of a cruise ship line.
6. What is a galleon? 4 quartes.
7. What is a pedlow? A trike for a very tiny child.
8. What is a kayak? A negative response to my middle name.
9. What is a schooner? A botched sneeze.
10. What is a coracle? The center part of a carbuncle.
A Culinary Confession
My kitchen is my “killer kit,” or so my husband thinks,
as warily he eyes his meal––main course, dessert and drinks.
He says he doesn’t blame me for my culinary lack,
because he didn’t marry me because I have the knack
to fry and broil and grill and roast
or even fail to burn the toast.
Yet I see him eye the knishes,
turkeys, pies and other dishes
served up by the other wives
who, wielding pans and spoons and knives
create dishes edible
as well as being bedable.
While I, though skillful in the sack,
their kitchen talents sadly lack.
So for years, we’ve had to make out
mainly on phone-in or take out!
Prompt words for the Three Things Challenge 375 are: killer, kit, kitchen. (Image created with help from AI)
Although I published a link of this review to Derrick’s blog two days ago, My Facebook won’t link to his blog, so I’m duplicating his entire post here on my blog. If you want to see it on his blog, please go to Monday’s post for a link. Again, I want to thank Derrick for the lovely review of both The China Bulldog and Prairies Moths. I posted that review earlier.
The China Bulldog
Judy Dykstra-Brown dedicates ‘The China Bulldog And Other Tales of a small-Town Girl’ to her parents and sisters with special thanks to Patti Jo, who took most of the photos in the book, some of which I have scanned and included in this review. This is in fact a heart warming tribute, especially to her parents, from each of whom she has claimed emotional and creative elements of herself.
This is a story of infancy, childhood, adolescence, and family life in an age when hard work, people’s own imaginations and creativity provided their entertainment, and relationships were all important. Growing up in vast open spaces, gave the author a desire to escape to a wider world, which she did, and in the process valued her origins once more. “Ours was little ecological system all it own. Mice feasted on grain spilled from burst seams in the garage. The cat feasted on the mice and we feasted on the steaks of Black Angus cattle who had eaten the ensilage from wheat stripped of its grains.”
‘Sweet Clover’ speaks of the land thus: “On these dry lands, what flowers there were/ tended to be cash crops or cattle feed./ Sweet clover or alfalfa.”
Our author chooses the tense of her sections with care, in particular when using the vivid or literary present to enhance immediacy.
Those of us who, like me, have followed Judy’s blog for more than a decade have marvelled of the fluidity of her poetry, sometimes of free verse as in ‘Blank Page’ in which she uses words as a powerful metaphor, sometimes including well-wrought, smoothly natural, rhyme.
We all know the challenge of ‘Blank Page’. Judy sees it as an opportunity.
“It stretches forever in front of me,/ There, no future happens until I create it./ And that is the power of words/ that rub like pieces of gravel between my toes./ I become less of a child in bearing them, grow to adolescence as I empty them from my shoe./ In storing them on the page, I become my own creator – / writing a new world with each decision of word./ On the page, I can, if I so choose,/ grow up again and again./ Each page filled, or every edit of the pages that came before it/ becomes another part of me that tells the same story:/ that growing enough to fill the space inside of me/ never happened.”

‘Church Purse’ is an example of Judy’s narrative rhyming poetry which continues in a similar vein for two more pages, relating a three year old’s thoughts, feelings, and actions. Here, in ‘The Upstairs Room’ we have “The windows in the upstairs hall streamed down shafts of light/ sliced open by the balusters that overlooked the flight.”
She engages all the senses: “I am from sounds in the prairie night. That sudden popping noise and choruses of mice families in the walls, my oldest sister in late from the dance, trying to sneak quietly up the wooden stairs to our all-girls loft where my middle sister lay sleeping and I lay listening for the opening of the door that led to her room whose windows opened up to a front porch roof where we sunbathed far above pesky neighbourhood boys with water pistols and inquisitive eyes.” The prose is as equally poetic as the verses. “…. the scramble of dog toenails on the wooden aisle….” brought laughter to the congregation. “My father’s forehead was ringed like an old tree” is actually a line from the poem ‘Shelter’; “Thus were the flickers of my disdain for boys fanned to a higher flame!” from the prose piece ‘Crushed’.
‘Temporary Rivers’ speaks of children’s response to rain coming in hot summer. “… in hot July, we streamed unfettered out into the rain. Bare-footed, bare-legged, we raised naked arms up to greet rivers pouring down like a waterfall from the sky. Rain soaked into the gravel of the small prairie town streets, down to the rich black gumbo soil that fostered out to be washed down the gutters and through the culverts under roads by rainwater rushing with such force that it rose back into the air in a liquid rainbow with pressure enough to wash the black from beneath our toes.” ‘Summer Evenings Turn to Fall’ opens with “Back when we drank summer through paper soda straws,”
‘Zippy’ was a treasured family pet. “All animal stories end more quickly than we would wish them to. With their shorter life span, it is inevitable. Some stories end with a shoebox lined with dandelion chains, some with a dead goldfish flushed down a toilet, others by watching a grown cottontail disappear into an alfalfa field, but Zippy’s story just faded away without an ending. Like the stories of people we lose touch with. Like the stories of people who move on in life. Like the stories of people who pass from being friends into being just another story in our lives.” This is one example of Judy’s philosophical insights.
‘She’ is a piece in tribute to Judy’s mother, as is this poem in Scrabble tiles.
It was her mother in particular whose writing contributed to her style of poetry. Judy earned her Masters degree in creative writing from the University of Wyoming, but before that came her mother, “like a beautiful uncut gem.”
Dykstra-Brown acknowledges that she carries both parents inside her, and ‘Near’ pays the same tribute to her father.
(Please note that the pages shown in this review are just excerpts and not the entire poems.) This book is available HERE on Amazon
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Published 9 March 2026By derrickjknight
Categorised as BooksTagged Judy Dykstra-Brown
60 comments
Thanks for the review, Derrick.
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Much appreciated, Rosaliene
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Judy is a talented poet and storyteller. I can relate to her statement, “I wished I’d asked more questions.”
I lived with both my parents, yet I know so very little about my father’s family and his life before us.
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Thank you so much, Sue
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It looks like a beautiful book, Derrick!
Thanks for this great review
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Much appreciated, Luisa
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You are truly welcome
It was a pleasure
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A lovely and well-written review, Derrick. Judy should be very pleased.
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Thank you very much, Merril
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I am, Merril. Just read his review and I am actually in tears. Must be my age, huh? ;o)
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Thank you both very much
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She uses word very lovingly, Nice.
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Thank you very much, Pat
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Thanks from me, too, Pat. Derrick’s review reads like poetry as well.
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Great to see a ‘poet’ receiving such a wonderful review. A very enjoyable read, derrick
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Thank you very much, Ivor
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I love the old photos. We need this kind of heartwarming, down to earth simplicity in our lives… like your blog.
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Thank you so much, JoAnna
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If you want to read more, the book is available on Amazon in print and ebook, Joanna. Thanks for your comment.
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Thanks. I’ll check it out.
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Very inspiring in all sorts of shapes and forms
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Thank you very much, Sylvie
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A book after my own heart. It sounds like a delightful read
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Yes. Thanks very much, Anne
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It is available on Amazon, Anne.
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A heartwarming review, Derrick, of a heart-touching book…reading what you shared here engaged all of my senses and ignited my emotions. I love when a writer/author has a gift in doing all of that. This brought back memories from my own childhood.
Thank you and (((HUGS)))) to you and Jackie!!
Thank you and (((HUGS))) to Judy!
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Thank you very much from each of us, Carolyn XX
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Hugs to you, Carolyn. As I’ve mentioned above, the book is available on Amazon. If you read it, I’d love to hear your comments as well.
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Derrick, thank you for this beautiful and thoughtful introduction to Judy’s unique and inspiring book. The writing is wonderful, I love the inclusion of the photos and what a special tribute to her parents and life!
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Thank you so much, Annika
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Thanks, Annika. https://judydykstrabrown.com
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Nice review Derrick.
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Oh, lovely! And how different was the landscape of her childhood compared with the landscape of my childhood was. Same country. Very different environments.
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Thank you very much, Laurie
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Thanks for your response. Where did you grow up, Laurie? You can answer at https://judydykstrabrown.com
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Judy should be pleased with your review, Derrick. Well done.
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Thank you very much, Eugi
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You’re welcome, Derrick.
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The poem tiles are nicely played.
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Thanks very much, Crystal
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The gentle, conversational tone of your overview mirrors the intimacy of the memoir it discusses. One cannot help but feel the emotional weight of the poetic stories, which linger like shared memories. The vivid reflections of a three-year-old in The Church Purse could easily have been my own while visiting a temple in the early years of my childhood.
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Thank you so much, Uma
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So happy that you identified with the poem, Uma. Read your comment on Derrick’s blog. Here, if you are interested, is a link to my daily blog: https://judydykstrabrown.com
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I look forward to visiting your blog and following your posts.
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Pleased to have you aboard. You can also read about all my books on Amazon if you are interested..And I’m just revamping my pages on the blog to give links to all that info, interviews and reviews. A big job and not my favorite writing activity. A friend is helping.
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A wonderful review for an interesting book!
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Thank you very much, Riba
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An excellent review, Derrick, and thank you for the introduction to Judy Dykstra-Brown.
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Thank you very much, Lavinia. Judy is an excellent blogger
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Hi Lavinia. Read your comment on Derrick’s blog. Here, if you are interested, is a link to my daily blog: https://judydykstrabrown.com
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Thank you, Judy!
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A wonderful and comprehensive review of a delightful sounding book. Derrick
Thank you very much, Robbie
How lovely!
Thank you very much, Sheree
Unbelievably my parents had a similar dog like that on the mantelpiece.
Amazing. Thank you very much, Gary
Really? And did the head come off and the tongue was a handle of the spoon? Do you know where they got it? I’ve never seen another one but I still have this one…It is one of the few things I brought with me to Mexico. https://judydykstrabrown.com
I’m very grateful to Derrick for taking the time to read my memoirs. Thanks to you for reading his comments.

Breaking Her Diet
I measure her cat food with care from the vat,
but she has such an aptitude, my little cat,
for flushing out lizards and others like that.
With delicate paw thrusts, she gives them a bat
’til they barely know where it is that they’re at,
then unleashes her claws for a more severe pat.
Be it lizard or bird or scorpion or rat,
she defeats it as though it were merely a gnat
and lays it out nicely on my front door mat:
one scorpion sting less or a feather for my hat,
then returns to the stool where she formerly sat,
licking her chops, and that’s why she’s so fat!!!
Esther’s Writing Prompt this week is “Break.” Nope, I’m not condoning such behavior…especially in regards to birds. Breaks my heart. The scorpions I can put up with, so long as she’s careful and doesn’t get stung.
Here is a link to Derrick J. Knight’s review of my book, The China Bulldog. His review is personal and touching and I thank him for the time he spent both reading and reflecting on the book. He includes a good many long excerpts of my what turned out to be my own favorite poems and passages, as well. If you want to read the entire book, it is available Here on Amazon.
You can see the entire review on his blog by clicking on the link below:
Cheerleaders
Once I did a project with a friend where we each wrote down what we wanted to accomplish. I believe I had eight things. Since we illustrated our resolutions, my quotes of what I wanted were scattered throughout my illustrations. Shortly after we did this, she moved back to the states and in time I forgot my little artwork.
A few years later, I found it when I was cleaning and reorganizing my studio. I looked at my page, turning it this way and that to read the resolutions that twisted around and through the colored sketches. I was surprised to find I’d accomplished every one, including losing weight, getting a book published (actually by the time I found it, I’d self-published three books) and finding a partner (now a friend, but nonetheless, I managed to reenter the dating scene after years of still feeling married to my deceased husband.)
I don’t remember what the rest of my resolutions were and a new search of my studio didn’t result in finding it. Perhaps it requires actually cleaning and reordering the studio to warrant this reward; but this exercise taught me what I’d learned long before and forgot. Writing resolutions down has a sort of magic. I think it moves them to a different, more active part of our brain. Even though that part of the brain might still be in the subconscious regions, somehow our written-down resolutions sit there as little telepathic cheerleaders, urging us onward to action.
Lest I grow too listless again, I think perhaps it is time to make another list!!!
Today’s Word of the Day is “Cheerleader.”
Tunneling
Deep is neither
party conversation
nor the subject of Valentines.
It seeps into the
crevices
under
fingernails
and
the
caverns
of
ears.
Internal
and
curvaceous,
it is hard to get
right to the point of.
Deep does not put down roots––it is roots.
Betrayal, breaking glass
and tunnels leading to
dark wombs that bear us anew
to rock us harshly
and swaddle us in pain.
Deep, I am
sometimes deep,
at other times
swift cold water
with surface
swirlings
or mist
rising
through
sunlight
clarified
by
deep
shadows.
For Weekly Prompts, the prompt is “Tunnel.”