Catherine DeWolf was raised in Libertyville,IL, and moved West because of a “feeling” she had. From there it was UCLA plus guitar in Rock n’ Roll bands. After graduation, Catherine traveled, then moved to Boston, Dallas, back to L.A., and finally the great Northwest. She writes poetry, short stories and is working on several novels. She is also a photographer, musician, and jewelry designer.
Queen Mab’s Way
In between the waking
and the dreams
lies Queen Mab’s
labyrinth
of vagaries.
Blind, unbalanced
by breaking day
random shades
point, whispering.
You listen.
Their persistence
in tossing variables
confuses your pathways.
Dreaming or awake
the netherworlds
drift.
Horror shows,
gleefully dance –
playing unhinged
passions drawn of
nonsense,
as dreams go.
Dawn flickers its
delicate touch,
Mab seeks shadows
away from nascent light.
Still she maintains
shades of control
over mortal minds
and drifting fools.
Broken Omelet
Scrambled eggs, common rubbery, wet
or near perfection.
Broken omelets spare no one.
Studying at the Cordon Bleu – failure profound?
Pomme frittes, Bon voyage mon petite –
Paris now a passing dream.
Back to regret, where aptitude is in a diner.
Peasant tastes coffee, hashbrowns, eggs, ham, bacon.
Smiling now you reminisce an omelet tastes like
flat scrambled eggs.
Grilled burgers with American Cheese,
double-fries, strong coffee,
a soda or brew.
That’s the road: blending folk,
creating meals of their choice,
while chattering, munching; living fully
their scrumptious, scrambled lives.
All Things Considered
It’s not bad to have ivory piano keys in your skull,
Or one ear chopped off by their deafening roar.
It seems that lyres do not soothe the oft-ragged soul,
And the dance to find booze is the fowl’s way of saying …
“Well I told you the sky was falling!”
Still, one has the need to achingly please.
But in doing so, it robs you… it has no surcease.
Finding what you love the most is,
Almost certainly taken away
Another time, another place, still no ease:
The aching pleasure of being led astray.
So cringe, moan, and flail in dear agony …
As epileptics do by nature – they seize.
The Galway Review 
Cathy — Three delightful poems, and congratulations on their immediate acceptance at Galway! That simply does not happen . . . I’m struck by the power of the imagery and the trust you afford your readers, inviting them to become participants in the flow, providing their own bridges from one image to the next. You paint vivid worlds in each poem, “Mab” being the strongest, “Considered” the weakest.
A few points: why do you begin each line of “Considered” in Caps? The practice is archaic and seriously impedes enjambment. The power of your phrasing would increase dramatically if you edited ruthlessly, culling FUNCTION words mercilessly. Chop unneeded prepositions, articles, pronouns. Try to minimize ALL forms of the blah verbs “to be” and “to have” . So this ” Still, one has the need to achingly please.” . . .becomes this: “Still, one yearns to please”. And this, “But in doing so, it robs you… it has no surcease” becomes this: “protect your fragile soul from never-ending surrender” [note: I am not suggesting the two preceding edits are even ‘good’; rather, I’m suggesting that KIND of writing (POWER writing) serves the poem better than wordiness).
Quibbles aside, Cathy, these poems are insightful and evocative. Well done.
Thanks Clark. Great edit ideas and much appreciated thoughts. Glad you like them.