Jeannie E. Roberts


Jeannie E. Roberts has authored four poetry collections and one children's book. Her most recent collection is The Wingspan of Things, a poetry chapbook (Dancing Girl Press, 2017). She is also the author of Romp and Ceremony, a full-length poetry collection (Finishing Line Press, 2017), Beyond Bulrush, a full-length poetry collection (Lit Fest Press, 2015), and Nature of it All, a poetry chapbook (Finishing Line Press, 2013). She is the author and illustrator of Let's Make Faces!, a children's book dedicated to her son (author-published, 2009). Her work appears in books, online magazines, print journals and anthologies, including A Year of Being Here, An Ariel Anthology, Bards Against Hunger, Blue Heron Review, Bramble, Festival of Language's Festival Writer, Literary Mama, Misty Mountain Review, Portage Magazine, Quill and Parchment, Red Cedar Review, Silver Birch Press, Sky Island Journal, The Paddock Review, Verse-Virtual, Visual Verse, Volume One's Local Lit, Yellow Chair Review and elsewhere. Born in Minneapolis, she lives in an inspiring setting near Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, where she writes, draws and paints, and often photographs her natural surroundings. 


The Wingspan of Things, Dancing Girl Press, 2017. $7 plus shipping.
(Orders may be placed through the author or Dancing Girl Press

Romp and Ceremony, Finishing Line Press, 2017. $19.99 plus shipping.
Orders may be placed through the author, Amazon here or Finishing Line Press here)

Beyond Bulrush, Lit Fest Press, 2015, $16.00 plus shipping
(Orders may be placed through or through the author)

Nature of it All, Finishing Line Press, 2013, $14.00 plus shipping
(Orders may be placed through the author or Finishing Line Press at here)

Let's Make Faces!, Rhyme the Roost Books, 2009, $10 plus shipping and handling
(Orders may be placed through the author or Volume One's local store here


The Punctuation of Ferns

Like snail shells
nestled in crooks
of question marks,

fiddleheads coil,
cap fronds, within
ponds of noonday sun.

Spirals unfurl, respond
without question, roll
out the answer, clarify

meaning in the fleeting
nature of time; only
to rest, repose, after

accentuating glens,
underlining gullies,
hyphenating ditches

with dashes of green,
upon making their mark,
completing this seasonal

sentence, before fading
to full stop and finishing
with periodic ending points.

From The Nature of It All (Finishing Line Press, 2013)

My Son's Tattoos

Ammonite lobes and saddles coil
near the scroll of fronds. Trillium kisses pulpit
with point of petal. Agate lines its banded path;
pieces fracture, disperse within
circular orbit. Leaves drift, then settle
beneath the repetition of squares; fractals
display their self-similar pattern. From shoulder
to forearm, the cosmic order of tats.

Mommy, what's the name of this flower?
It's the great white trillium, I answer.
Notice their whorl of three petals, white,
pristine, but never pick them; we must honor
their life. We step to find a jack-
in-the-pulpit, then a fern. Stones next.
Agates. Along the river, we skip rocks.
My brother walks with us; he speaks
of plants and animals, fossils,
constellations, his esteem for science
and our natural world. We listen.

Pristinely rendered echoes of walks and talks,
water and woodlands, tribe and tradition,
my son's arm depicts his lineage. Patterns
of memory, emblematic markings of origin
indelibly etched, form the whorl of his story,
the greatness of his fingerprint, the honor in his ink. 

From Romp and Ceremony (Finishing Line Press, 2017)