Today is the last day of NaPoWriMo 2026! I hope you enjoy my final poem for this month.
Little Ants
By Candace Shultz
Why do you lay siege to my home?
You march in single formation,
Ready to plunder my forgotten treasures.
You would take everything from me,
Picking each crumb off one by one
Until I have nothing left.
I will fight for what's mine
Even if my skin crawls with
The shadows of your soldiers
As they haunt me from a hidden realm,
Little ghost ants plotting my demise.
For today's poem, I followed the NaPoWriMo prompt to "compare your everyday present life with
your past self, using specific details to conjure aspects of your past
and present in the reader’s mind."
The Joy of Youth
By Candace Shultz
I watch my daughter laugh
with her friends, so carefree
and full of the joy of youth.
They drink Ramune from glass bottles
and eat KonpeitÅ candies we bought
at the Japanese grocery store.
I look at my daughter,
and I see myself at her age,
sleeping over at my best friend's house,
giggling with our friends as we talked
about a boy one of us liked,
snacking on Doritos and drinking Pepsi,
playing Truth or Dare,
trying to be the last one to fall asleep.
I blink and time shifts into my older body.
The laughter of the past fades
into the laughter of today,
and I smile wistfully,
wishing I could be that girl again.
But time is fleeting,
and the past won't stay.
We can only live for the laughter of today.
For NaPoWriMo Day 28, the prompt challenged us to write a poem that follows the same beat as Victoria Chang’s poem, “The Lovers” by using three sentences with six lines in a statement, question, conclusion format.
Survival
By Candace Shultz
There is a cactus
growing in the desert.
How can it survive
without life-giving rain?
In harsh conditions,
we adapt or we die.
I followed today's NaPoWriMo prompt to write a poem "in which all the verses contain the same number of lines and in which you give the reader instructions of some kind."
Look in the Mirror
By Candace Shultz
Stand there naked in all your glory.
Let your body tell a story.
Look into your eyes.
See that they are brown.
Smile to show your teeth.
Then close your lips in a frown.
Laugh. Let your eyes sparkle.
Watch your cheeks and how they crease.
Count the freckles on your face.
Take a deep breath and then release.
Feel the hairs along your arms.
Count your moles. Evaluate.
Cup your breasts
And feel their weight.
Then trace the stretch marks on your belly.
Remember the babies you held in there.
Touch the lines along your thighs.
Then touch your bare toes, but beware
You don't fall over. Then stand up tall.
Look at your body and its story.
You've carried each other through it all.
Remember your body. Remember your glory.
Look in the mirror. It is indisputable.
Know in your heart that YOU are beautiful.
I write poetry
because words are the rhythm
and song of my soul.
NaPoWriMo prompt: "Today, we challenge you to write your own ars poetica, giving the reader some insight into what keeps you writing poetry, or what you think poetry should do."
For Day 25 of NaPoWriMo, this is the prompt I followed: "to write your own poem in which you use at least three metaphors for a single thing, include an exclamation, ruminate on the definition of a word, and come back in the closing line to the image or idea with which you opened the poem."
Lost in Motherhood
By Candace Shultz
She lost herself in a pile of clothes,
Under dirty socks and wrinkled slacks.
Not lost in thought or deeply engrossed,
But lost as in no longer visible,
Unappreciated, unable to find her way
In a world that left her behind
When she chose to cherish
Her children instead of a career.
She lost herself slowly,
Like walking into a large city,
Taking twists and turns,
Trying not to step on others' toes,
Walking in circles
Until getting turned around.
She can't remember where she started
Or where she should go.
She lost herself completely
As though she was hiking in the woods,
And she left the well-worn path
To take a detour in the trees
Until the branches entwined together,
Making a canopy of their leaves
So even the sun couldn't see her
As she made her way alone.
She lost herself in a pile of laundry,
In unending dishes, in dinners
And driving and school dances
And school assignments
And wiping noses and singing songs
And breaking up disagreements
And hugs and kisses and sticky hands
And love. So much love!
But who is she without her children?
She is on the side of the mountain
Trying to climb up to the top
To see herself with clarity,
To remember who she was,
To find out who she will be,
But she slips on a pair of dirty socks
And becomes buried by an avalanche,
Losing herself in a pile of clothes.
Today's poem follows the NaPoWriMo prompt to describe something magical or strange that takes place at night while no one is awake. I describe snow falling at night, but I try to make it seem more magical with my descriptions and the use of the wind god as a character. I hope you enjoy it.
The Snow Is Bittersweet
By Candace Shultz
The sun sinks below the horizon
And sleepy heads sink into beds.
A hush falls over the city
As stars wink from overhead.
The wind god whistles lightly, slowly blowing
The clouds as they ripple across the sky.
The air outside dips into the freeze
And a single snowflake lets out a sigh.
As it begins to dance down to the ground,
A ballerina in the gentle breeze,
Diamond dust soon falls after,
Joining the first flake with ease.
The wind god laughs out a gust
And the snowflakes begin to hurry.
They twist and turn and twirl about.
They fall down in a flurry.
And when they can dance no more,
They settle in the street.
Like glitter, their crystals shimmer.
The snow is bittersweet.
For Day 23 of NaPoWriMo, I followed the prompt to write a villanelle that ends with a question.
There Is Silence in the Waiting
By Candace Shultz
There is silence
In the waiting.
Please be well.
She worries quietly,
Waiting for news.
There is silence.
She prays for his recovery
And for the surgeon's steady hands.
Please be well.
Air hums in the vent above her,
Cooling her skin, yet still
There is silence.
She looks at her phone screen,
Checking the time again and again.
Please be well.
Finally, the doctor appears and
Walks into the waiting room.
There is silence.
"Is he well?"
For today's prompt, I was challenged to write a poem reflecting on my name and nicknames. If you do a quick Google search on my name's meaning, you'll see that my name means "queen," "glowing," and "pure," and it is associated with clarity, strength, and royal authority. I tried to use most of those meanings in my poem. As for nicknames, I've had a few throughout my life, but I chose to use only one in this poem. Candy is a common nickname for Candace, but it never stuck to me. I never really liked it as a nickname, so I never let it stay with me. I hope you enjoy my poem!
I Am Candace
By Candace Shultz
Who am I?
I am Candace.
I am named after a queen.
I claim my name with pride.
My name is pure,
Given to me with love.
It surrounded me at birth
And settled in to stay.
My name has power.
It defines me. It holds fast
Even when nicknames fade,
Like Candy who just melted away.
My name has strength.
It walks with me every day
As I journey through my life,
A constant companion in an
Ever changing and confusing world.
My name is ethereal.
It will carry on in the wind
When my body is no more,
Touching the lips of those
Who speak its rhythm,
Tumbling in their laughter
As they remember me,
Sliding down their tears
As they mourn.
This poem was inspired by the NaPoWriMo prompt to muse on a flower's name and its meanings.
Tiger Lily
By Candace Shultz
Oh, tiger lily!
The passion that flows
through your petals
entices the heart to love!
Your subtle scent sweetens
the air around you.
Is it no wonder a man dares
to pluck you from the earth
to give you to his heart's desire?
Your strength becomes
the endurance of their love,
thriving in this harsh world.
You bring good fortune
to all who know you,
imbuing them with
your fiery soul.
I attempted to follow the NaPoWriMo prompt today to write a small section of a long, narrative poem in which I use rhymes and unlikely dramatic scenes. I tried to channel the feel of a drama opera. My poem gives a glimpse of a story between a female cyclops and a male human who somehow fell in love and must navigate the hardships of such a relationship.
Drowning in Love
By Candace Shultz
He looked lovingly into her hazel eye
As he sat atop her bulging chest,
And when she let out a heartfelt sigh
His tiny body fell off her breast.
She sat up suddenly, her large body looming
Over his tiny form sprawled on the ground.
To his human ears, her voice was booming
As she bawled that death had come around.
He tried to shout so she could hear,
But he couldn't quite catch his breath.
So he watched with dread as her tears
Fell forth, forming a wave of impending death.
In response to today's NaPoWriMo prompt, I wrote a poem responding to "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.
Two roads diverged in
a wood, and I took neither.
I paved my own path.
The NaPoWriMo prompt for today is to write "a poem in which you describe something that cannot speak, and what it has taught or told you." I love to crochet, so I decided to write about yarn and how it has dreams to be created into something new.
Crocheting Dreams
By Candace Shultz
Yarn speaks to me
Every color
Every texture
Every size
Has a story to tell
Has a longing to be
Something
Something special
Something wanted
Something loved
A blanket for a newborn baby
Who will outgrow it but still
Take it everywhere with them
When they become a toddler
Warm socks for a grandma
To keep her feet warm
When she walks on the
Cold floorboards of her home
Mittens for children
To keep their hands
From freezing in the cold
As they throw snowballs
And make snowmen
On their day off from school
A cute cat plush
For a little girl or boy
To hold close to their heart
Or a daring dinosaur
To play with every day
Yarn tells me
It wants to be created
Into something new,
To be held and cherished too.
It's just waiting for me
To make its dreams come true.
For Day 15 of NaPoWriMo, today's poem is a love poem, but not a traditional one. I dedicate this poem to that first cup of coffee in the morning that helps me face the day.
Love in a Cup of Coffee
By Candace Shultz
I love you truly,
my morning coffee.
You fill my cup
when I am empty.
You wake me up
when my mind is numb.
You give me energy
when I have none.
You make me happy
when I smell your scent.
You make me feel alive
with just one taste.
You jump-start my heart
when the fatigue is erased.
My grumpiness fades
and I am carefree
because I found love
in my morning cup of coffee.
For Day 14 of NaPoWriMo, I was challenged to write a poem involving technological advances. My poem is inspired by how people use artificial intelligence to create fake videos and images of themselves and others.
Facade
By Candace Shultz
Are you real?
Or are you just pixels
of a face rearranged
on the screen to look
like someone else?
Do I even know you?
What is truth anymore
when everything
can be turned to lies?
I don't want a facsimile,
a false truth, an illusion,
an artificial face hiding
behind a computer screen.
Give me authenticity.
Be genuine. Be real
in your words and actions,
in the face you present
to me and the world.
Give me your truth,
and I will give you mine.
For today's NaPoWriMo prompt, I included a "remembered, cherished landscape" in my poem. I chose the front yard of the apartment complex where my daughter learned to take her first steps.
Your First Steps
By Candace Shultz
In the front of our apartment,
I chose a little patch of grass,
Cut short and pristine,
The most beautiful color green.
The sun warmed our faces.
The wind rustled leaves
From a nearby oak tree.
It was the perfect place
To take your first steps.
I placed your feet down
On the lawn, and suddenly
Your smile became a frown.
You clenched your fists
And released an awful sound.
You cried at my betrayal for
Putting you on that wretched grass,
But I praised you as I watched
You walk towards me with sass.
One step, two steps, and then a third.
You toddled towards me undeterred.
Your first steps! Oh, what a sight!
You are my star, my joy, my delight!
You left behind that grassy green.
You reached my arms, and then you leaned
Into my embrace before I lifted you high
Into the bluest sky, showering you with praise
And looking at you with love in my gaze.
In today's poem, I tried to follow a prompt to describe a memory of a family member I love in which my thoughts echo today. I chose a memory with my Grandma.
Love of Reading
By Candace Shultz
Grandma sits in her rocker,
A book open in her lap,
The lamp lit on the table beside her.
I borrow a book from her shelves
Upon shelves of Harlequin novels,
And I feel a little risque
At reading romance as a young teen,
But Grandma doesn't mind.
She just loves that I love to read.
More than twenty years later
Down the road of life,
I have lived all kinds of lives
In so many different, wonderful worlds,
The Harlequin romance just one
Of the many genres of books that I open
In my lap as I sit in my own rocker.
Thank you, my dear Grandma,
For all those stories that you let me read.
Today's poem is a blackout poem! I love blackout poetry. I followed the prompt from this NaPoWriMo site.
In Pursuit of Love
By Candace Shultz
An enthusiastic flower
Feelings of exultation
Oh joy!
The lover seen
A purpose new
Both eyes intent
In pursuit to nothing else.
To make my blackout poem, I used page 21 in the book Our Bird Comrades by Leander Keyser found on this website.
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For today's poem, I followed the prompt posted on the NaPoWriMo site to write about grief using Geoffrey Brock's poem, “Goodbye,” as inspiration. Here is my poem.
Tears of Regret
By Candace Shultz
You were sick,
And I didn't know.
Death knocked on your door,
And you followed him home.
Were you alone? I don't know.
I wasn't there to say goodbye.
Were you alone? I hope love
Surrounded you in the end.
You were a whisper in the wind
That I tried so hard to hear, but now
A heavy silence weighs on my heart,
And I drown in a pool of tears.
I Love You
By Candace Shultz
I love you.
Look into the mirror
Of my heart. It reflects a
Vision of you as seen through my
Eyes - my heart's desire, my better half.
You are my world, and no
Other person could complete me
Until I met you. With you, I am whole.
For today's poem, I followed the challenge to use a phrase repeatedly while contradicting or inverting that phrase.
It isn't an Empty Page
By Candace Shultz
It isn't an empty page.
It's a white glare in my face
Mocking me for having no words
To form into a resemblance of a poem.
It isn't an empty page.
It's a blank slate ready for new ideas,
No longer a void, but a place
To express thoughts and find meaning.
It isn't an empty page.
It's a cat sharpening its claws,
Getting ready for the hunt
To bring home the prize.
It isn't an empty page.
It's a person stretching their legs,
Getting ready to run a mile,
Knowing they will reach the finish line.
It isn't an empty page.
It was a beginning not yet begun,
Now an ending finally achieved.
It's a poem written by me.
For Day 7 of NaPoWriMo, I followed a prompt to write a poem similar to a song from a clapping game. My poem is inspired by the song "Miss Mary Mack," which I used to clap to with friends when I was a kid.
I Saw a Cat
By Candace Shultz
I saw a cat, cat, cat
That was all black, black, black
With a tiny spider, spider, spider
Crawling on her back, back, back.
She felt a tickle, tickle, tickle
Within her fur, fur, fur
So she licked the spider, spider, spider
And began to purr, purr, purr.
The spider was scared, scared, scared
When it was snared, snared, snared
Inside the mouth of the cat, cat, cat.
The spider had erred, erred, erred.
Today's poem is inspired by a prompt to use a casual, conversational tone with at least one thing that would happen in a dream. A cat speaking in human words counts as something that would happen in a dream, right?
Cat Greetings
By Candace Shultz
I open the door
and the first thing I see
is my cat sitting on the stairs
greeting me. "Welcome home!"
she says to me. "Hello kitty.
Were you waiting for me?"
I scratch her on the ears
and she trails behind me
like a shadow attached to my feet,
talking to me the entire time
while I set down my purse,
my water bottle, my phone.
I walk towards the bathroom,
and I close the door behind me,
and she reaches under the door
with her little paws, crying out
"Mom!" like a toddler child
who can't bear to be apart
from her mom for even a moment.
When I leave the bathroom,
she runs around me excitedly
until I finally settle in the rocker
in the living room, and then she
curls in a ball in my lap, cuddling me
as I rock us gently back and forth,
and the house becomes quiet
as we both close our eyes,
letting the gentle sway of the rocker
lead us into a slumber of dreams.
For Day 5 of NaPoWriMo, I followed a prompt to write about something I dislike, and to be over dramatic if I want. So I decided to write about canned spinach, which I really dislike. Seriously, why change a perfectly good fresh spinach leaf into a canned, stringy, slimy, unrecognizable leaf? Here is my poem:
Canned Spinach
By Candace Shultz
I hate canned spinach.
It has ruined the color green
With its slimy taste and texture
And unappealing appearance.
I believe it is an unknown substance,
So bitter and gross that it makes
Me want to vomit in my mouth,
Which makes it that much worse to eat.
If you put some slimy spinach on my plate,
My blood will boil and the spinach will fly,
And I will watch as it trails down your face
Like a snail secreting mucus as it slides.
* Author's note: I wouldn't truly throw canned spinach at someone, but I definitely won't eat it (I've already eaten it before a few times. I never want to eat it again.).
Today's poem is about an aspect of weather, while using rhyme and lines of relatively even length.
Drip Drip Drop
By Candace Shultz
In the distance, I can hear thunder rumble,
Which makes my son begin to grumble.
He hates it when the storms begin.
It makes him tremble from within.
God is just bowling, I sometimes say
As the clouds in the sky begin to gray.
The rain pitter patters on our roof above
And the wind blows harder without love,
So I sing a little song to calm my son down:
Drip drip drop, rain is falling on our town.
Drip drip drop, rain is falling on my head.
Drip drip drop, rain is falling on my bed.
Drip drip drop, my son sings too,
And just like that, the sky is blue.
Today's poem is short and sweet: a haiku.
I woke to the light
Shining through my window, then
I blinked. Now it's night.
This poem is for Day 2 of NaPoWriMo.
Memories
By Candace Shultz
I reach for a memory:
Laughing with friends,
Running through the sand,
The sun shining on my face,
My skin reddened from ultraviolet rays.
But the memory fades
Like sand sifting between my fingertips.
When I was young, I never thought to
Grasp onto those memories,
Never imagined bright, sunny days
Turning into hazy afternoons
Casting shadows on my memories.
Even though my young self seems far away,
I still find her in the mirror,
Her eyes crinkled with the laughter
From a life fulfilled.
Today is Day 1 of NaPoWriMo 2026, and I wrote a tanka, as prompted by https://www.napowrimo.net/go/.
I Worry
By Candace Shultz
Shadows whisper in
between the dark spaces of
one thought to the next.
I reach for rays of hope as
worries delve deep in my mind.
