Frazzled, harried thoughts,

Shoulders tensed to spring,

Thoughts trapped in the surface of the mind

Whirling, blocking peace

Mind facing forward

So that the present holds no rest.

Until finally, at days end,

We gratefully collapse

and our minds finally relax.


Smoky campfire air

Secluded, gentle river

The countryside’s peace.

7pm – The Madwoman


She stands at the front door
Spiral-bound notebook and pen in hand
Tongue between her teeth
She taps the end of the pen on her page.

Friend opens the door from inside, and exclaims!
“Why didn’t you ring the bell?! Come in!”

“Shh! You’re ruining the mood!”
The girl on the step, the poet, says.

“What do you mean?
What could make you stand out on a porch
So near to dark
In a neighbourhood so bad?
You’re mad!”

“Yes! Yes, I know it!”
Exclaimed the poet
“This closed door’s my inspiration
– danged Muse is on vacation –
But of course I know I’m mad!
Mad artists and mad scientists,
It’s just another word for genius!
Leave sanity for the average folk
I’d rather be out of my mind, and know
The secrets of the universe
As shown in a closed front door.”


What to do!
No, stay, rest awhile,
Keep enjoying company!
Places to go and people to see
But such lovely people next to me
In such a pushy society
We’re busy busy busy
All the time
Mad society or no
Life just doesn’t seem to have enough
for all the lovely people and places it offers.

What are we to do?

5pm – my home

It’s not the most beautiful of provinces,
No, that’s our neighbour to the west,
We are brown gray scrublands
And spiky yellow fields
Edged by trees with the plainest hues
As you drive across the land in the oft-droughtful summer.
But it has always been beautiful to me
– Lakes Louise and Morraine aside, even,
For anyone can see that they are beautiful just as plainly as I do,
Those glittering mountain lakes,
Icy toned against scorching day –
No, I am talking about the scrublands,
Whose plain hues blend together in mottled shades,
Each fading into the other
I was born in the perfect place
– Someone knew how it should be! –
I was born with all I need to appreciate
Alberta’s subtle beauty.


In silence held
The gentle breath of dusk
Quieting souls that
Take care to gaze into the night.
Day’s business drifts away
Worries untethered by sweet cool air
And soft lavender skies
And deep breaths.
This is the nourishment if the soul:
To quiet oneself deliberately
In contemplation of all that is
Pure and whole and good and lovely
While the body rests
And breathes the scents of night.


Family fun and sunlit days
Stirring in me songs of praise
My God, who brightens up my days
Has poured upon me endless grace

The darkness somehow melts away
Barely now a memory
The weeping passed when morning came
– I will love him all my days

Who can tell the stars to set?
Who gives me each and every breath?
Only God who I adore
Who gives me hope for what’s in store


Shouts! Yells!
Hollering, happy sounds!
Introverted self flinches, then smiles
As family members clash
At the annual games of reunion
Where we hold a fiercely fun competition
Hoping to beat the cousin
Who always wins
But moreso we’re gathered to remind ourselves
That among our family,
We also have friends.


A trip away out west
Beyond the suburbs
To old town
Small town
Train tracks farm town
To dine with family.

12pm – Puppy days

So much energy
Darting about underfoot
Shredding shoes and furniture –
And oh yes, peeing on the floor.
When I hurry off to work,
I mutter growling words
At that little fuzzy mess of energy
Known as man’s best friend.

But on the weekend in the park
She shakes off my foolishness
Born of impending adulthood
And infects me with her spirit of joyfulness
Born of play
And curiosity,
That youthful delight in the world,
Born of love as well
Knowing that where there are friends
All is well in the world.