For this monthly column, my first post is an invitation, even in the midst of the world's sadness and confusion, to choose lightness. (Readers: please make note of your chocolate-related assignment.)

Friends, inviting you to read my "Poet Laura" musings this month: on celebration, mother-magic, and . . . rubber ducks. You never know where they may be hiding!

Before tackling my 2023 resolutions, before making lists of all kinds, I decided to play. Join me for some fun, sweetness, and of course, tea!

If you, like me, have ever used inception tactics to procure chocolate, let's jilt the guilt this Valentine's Day. Here's an ode to chocolate, and a permission slip for bliss!

After our boat tipped and sank, the boys expressed their reproach in a way I didn't expect: a (somewhat hyperbolic) haiku.

When your family pulls a fast one on you, try not to be in the middle of a rainforest. To hear about a trip full of surprises, read on . . . .

My mother lit an oil lamp every morning and evening. It taught me that our small acts can make an immense difference in this complicated world.

The Poet Laureate's poem is going to Jupiter -- and Poet Laura's poem is going to the moon!

When I got sick--really sick--I had only one choice: pause and surrender. I learned there's real magic in that space--and poetry, too.

Reading the Very Hungry Caterpillar to my son long ago has now come full circle. Let’s ring in the Year of the Monarch!

Sometimes absurdity finds you, and sometimes, you seek it out yourself! Here’s the tale of my adventure to Danville, Indiana, for a poetry reading . . . for chickens.

Somehow and suddenly, my year as Tweetspeak's Poet Laura has drawn to a close! I'm so grateful to L.L. Barkat for this opportunity and to my editor Will Willingham. Thank you to all who have journeyed alongside me, sampling chocolate, sipping tea, and spying rubber ducks in unexpected places. This post is my goodbye--and also my hello to the next Poet Laura, Michelle Ortega!