Not Quite Leaping Puddles, is available in both paperback and as an eBook, at

Also available at Amazon
& other on-line retailers.

Available directly from me.$10 plus $3 postage, payable via my Paypal,, or even easier:
You don't need a Paypal account to send payment.

From the Back Cover:
This collection of award winning poems captures the extremes, in-betweens, and sunbeams people experience—past and present, humorous and serious.

Obviously life is neither all good nor all bad—all we can do is splash from puddle to puddle. Sometimes landing in puddles is fun. Sometimes they hide sinkholes. It’s always our choice how we deal with them. Still, while we’re in mid-leap—oh, the possibilities!

From Eve winning the battle of the sexes, to Elvis resting his pelvis; from a civil war post office to social media, from survival to recovery, Barbara Blanks believes “grief is no place to linger or dwell.” She also refuses to have a “rendezvous with death” because she has more puddles to not quite leap.

Barb “tastes poetry, crunching it like popcorn.” and pretends she knows the words to “the sound of Moses.”
What an odd assortment of poems.
What an odd person.

Yellow Umbrella

I want to pack joy in a tote bag,
carry it with me, to access it
any time—open its canopy of light
even when problems
beat like hail against
dark umbrellas popping up
like toadstools,
even when grief batters
against my internal shelter.

Let my feet be wet from
not quite
over puddles.

Let me twirl like a lawn sprinkler,
my hair frizzing into dandelion fluff,
nose dripping like a faucet.

Let me navigate like a pinball,
bouncing from one bobbing bumbershoot
to another, for sunless days
cannot be avoided—

but I can carry my own sunshine.


Had to let you know. I finished the book yesterday at breakfast, reading a few of my favorites to Andrea. Both sections, Then and Now, come together as an enjoyable collection of poetry. I am glad I purchased it and thankful that I took time from a busy schedule to read it, more than delightful by any measure.

Patrick Lee Marshall, Keller, TX