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Robyn Hood Black - children's author, poet, artist

Life on the Deckle Edge

Poetry Friday - C'était moi. Happy Halloween!

October 30, 2025
Tags: -Poetry Friday, Robyn Hood Black, Robyn Hood Black poems, dog poem, dog
photo - Robyn Hood Black

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers! HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I hope you have just the right amount of spooky fun this weekend. 

 

I found myself heavy with the weight of the real horrors in the news this week - a huge hurricane bearing down on Caribbean islands, threats to the cease-fire in the Middle East and continued killings in Ukraine, the threat of food assistance disappearing for needy folks here against a backdrop of a future golden ballroom (and a demolished White House wing) - and though I had much to do after traveling, I decided to have some fun with my dog, Rookie, a two-year-old Keeshond.  Mainly because I needed a humor break myself.  

 

And though it appears the détectives français might be closing in on the real thieves, for Halloween, I conjured up a poem to go with the picture I took a couple of days ago. 

 

  C'était moi

 

by Robyn Hood Black

 

I could not help myself, you know - 

I smelled the wealth.  I heard the jangle.

 

I saw the glinty, sparkly glow - 

from royal crown to baubled bangle.

 

With floofy fluff and padded paws,

I shadowed into the Louvre 

 

to add those gaudy, gleaming gems

to my stash, my cache, my oeuvre. 

 

(My breed is Dutch - counts not for much; I can parlez-vous.)

 

Humans made a ladder clatter - who saw a gray chien?

You might call me a wicked boy,

but my stealth is très bien.

 

 

Make your getaway over to the marvelous world of multi-talented Jone Rush MacCulloch for this week's mwah-ha-haa Poetry Friday Roundup.  Thanks, Jone!

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Poetry Friday - Dog Days of Summer

July 10, 2025
Tags: -Poetry Friday, dog poem, antique poem

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  Mid-July, just about... how did that happen? 

 

Summer adventures with a grandbaby and grand-toddler have literally taken me out of the news cycles for some welcome child-centered outdoor escapes.  With the visiting wee ones this week, we set up a little portable pool in the back yard.  (A perfect next activity after trucks in the sandbox, by the way.) I'd ordered the pool with the baby grands in mind, and also, for our Keeshond, Rookie, who just turned two.  He loves the water and will immediately stick his whole snout below the surface and blow bubbles - as well as dig and splash.  Hence, the small water bowl in our kitchen which I refill a zillion times a day, but I digress. 

 

Our oldest grand-dog, Maggie, is a lab - so water-love is in her genes.  She and her just-turned-three-year-old boy have already been splashing in a little plastic pool in their back yard this summer. 

 

Dogs and summer just go together. Here is a poem I found in one of my antique magazines, by a P. C. Fossett.  I didn't discover anything about that name online.  But this poet knew kids and dogs!

 

From the August 13, 1892 edition of GOLDEN DAYS....

 

 

My Chum, Jack

 

by P. C. Fossett

 

I have a chum that sticks by me,

   In fair or cloudy weather,

And when from books and tasks I'm free

   We're always seen together.

When my playmates give me the shake

   I don't sit down and grumble;

I call for Jack, and we two make

   A game at rough-and-tumble.

 

Jack is not now, and never was,

   For beauty celebrated.

But "Handsome is as handsome does,"

   My copy-book once stated;

And though some folks may criticise

   My chum in form and feature,

One look into his honest eyes

   Proclaims a faithful creature.

 

No slave could my commands attend,

   Were I a sovereign royal,

As does this staunch and honest friend --

   This subject true and loyal;

And when we're rambling wood and field

   I fear no hostile stranger,

For Jack would die before he'd yield,

   Defending me from danger.

 

In pond and stream we swim and wade,

   Until my anxious mother

Frowns and declares that she's afraid

  Some day we'll drown each other. 

And when my trowsers' legs are wet,

   And Jack's coat saturated,

My father says, when home we get,

   "Two vagabonds well mated!"

 

Now, do you want to see my chum?

   Just wait a half a second;

I'll whistle for him, and he'll come

   Almost before you've reckoned --

See! here he is with wagging tail

   And bark of salutation.

Of all the chums that never fail

   A dog beats all creation!

 

Hard to argue with that. 

 

One of my poetry-art-beautiful-life chums who never fails is our amazingly talented Tabatha, hosting the Roundup this week at The Opposite of Indifference.  Thanks, Tabatha!

(Note - I'll be in and out of town this month - and next - so it might be a couple-few weeks between my splashes in the Poetry Friday pool.  I hope you are having a lovely summer!) 

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Poetry Friday - Holiday Puproar

November 30, 2023
Tags: - poetry, -Poetry Friday, Robyn Hood Black, dog poem, dog training poem
Our Keeshond pup, Rookie, in the Christmas spirit. ©Robyn Hood Black 

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  Can you believe it's December already?  I can't, though we were fortunate to have our family together for a wonderful Thanksgiving visit.

 

My days have been starting way too early and all running together lately with pup-wrangling.  We've had our new wee beastie, a Keeshond, for about four weeks now, and he just turned five months old on Thursday.  We already love him to pieces, and he loves chewing things into pieces.  ;0)  He's getting the hang of things (house training, short walks seeing other doggies, etc., car trips...), and I've got him in a puppy class at PetCo.  My daughter Morgan, who is home with 17-month-old Sawyer, and I have been comparing days!

 

Though we're taking this fella out in the back yard for house training, the process reminded me of a silly poem I wrote a gazillion years ago. (Maybe not quite that long, but it's been a while.)

 

 

I Paper-trained my Puppy

 

I paper-trained my puppy -
he reads The New York Times.
He starts at the beginning:
the news, the views, the crimes.

 

Then he reads the comics,
while rolling on the floor.
He moves on to the book reviews,
the fashion, arts, and more.

 

After that he grabs a pen
and holds it with his muzzle.
He won't get up until he's done
the daily crossword puzzle.

 

I paper-trained my puppy.
I made one small mistake.
The puddle in the corner
is looking like a lake.

 

©Robyn Hood Black. All rights reserved.

 

Usually at this time of year I'm up to my ears in Etsy orders. This year has been a little different, as with moving several months ago, traveling this fall, the new pup, and my general taking-a-while-to-get-my-act-together-in-a-new-place, I haven't done my customary making of a bunch of new things and marketing!  I've had to accept that some years I'm more together than others. 

 

I'm still happily shipping out orders, but I'm expecting to be up and running from my new studio full swing after the holidays instead of before.  Lots of new artsyletters items will be coming in the New Year! In the meantime, if you need any "regular" items from my shop, please feel free to use Coupon Code JINGLE10 for 10 percent off this month.  :0)

 

Anastasia Suen is rounding us all up this week at Small Poems - Thank you, Anastasia!  Join her on a snowy walk down Memory Lane as she recounts the sale of her first poem years ago. 

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Poetry Friday - Haiku in Remembrance of a Dog

September 14, 2023
Tags: - poetry, -haiku, </br>Poetry Friday, Robyn Hood Black, dog poem, Grief, dog haiku
Victorian Trading Card, The Graphics Fairy. thegraphicsfairy.com

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  Missed you last week as I was visiting my folks in Florida.  It was strange taking walks around their neighborhood without my tiny walking buddy of the past 10 years.  As I write this post on the 14th, it's six months since I had to have our precious 3 1/2-pound rescued Chihuahua, Rita, put down the afternoon before I moved from coastal Beaufort, SC, to join my husband here at our new address in the Upstate. It was a shock to spend much of my last week there in the emergency vet hospital instead of just packing boxes.

 

We still miss her naps in our laps, her tail-chasing spins of excitment, and the teeny tapping of the tiniest toenails across the floor.  Three friends of mine lost long-time dog companions this summer, and another lost a favored alpaca.  I've seen online that a Poetry Friday friend just lost a treasured family pup, too.  It never gets easier for any of us, does it?

 

Haiku always offers me a safe and sometimes surprising place to park my grief, explore our connection with the world, and spark memory or wonder.  Here's a haiku I wrote after Rita died, and which was chosen by this year's Haiku Society of America's Members Anthology editor Allyson Whipple for the upcoming 2023 edition.

 

 

first day of spring
my dog's ashes
in the mailbox 

 

©Robyn Hood Black.  All rights reserved. 

 

 

The lovely and talented Rose has our Roundup this week at Imagine the Possibilities.  Thanks for hosting, Rose!

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