My summer picture face is just fine. Pictures show a joy-filled smile in the sunshine. In the mirror, I am less satisfied. My face has been touched by gravity. Sixty-three years of gravity.   Wrinkles and age spots are minor, so I can’t whine. My generation began summer with a sunburn, if…

Autobiography of a Face As I look at my Bosco eyes, As I look at my crescent nose, As I look at my snail-shell ears, As I look at my piano-key smile, I realize that I’m as delectable as chocolate, as magical as the moon,…

The famous people live in transparent boxes made of shredded skin.

Looking at his face one would miss the sensitivity hidden behind its mask The hardness of his face covers his internal pain his brow, forged with angry lines, imply a man of mean-ness, of intimidation His eyes droop at the outside corners matching the eternal…

It was the eyebrows And the eagle eyes that lie just under them Kind and wise Intimidating when the need arose Always when my cousin’s and I were rife with potential mischief But always kind Tired, maybe? You could never tell. You could try and…

Love is like a slow dance, a slow dance for two, Sweet romance lingers in the air A promise of true love nothing else can compare. When you look at me intently with your loving brown eyes, I get lost in my own world as…

Autobiography of These Hands of Mine These hands have nurtured young, caressed lovers, washed uncounted dishes and pots and pans, hung laundry, washed the body of my deceased mother, held hands of friends, and strangers too, in support during joy and tragedy and they have welcomed…

Hider of secrets Betraying myself only to those that know my heart My heart is the key to my face Yet to the eye of the beholder My face is the only way to see me A mask I wear one 95% of my days It’s…

I look deep into your eyes, reflecting a sadness carried often by many, understood by few. The oceanic blue twinkles in the light, reminding me of starlight, moonlight, shifting repetitions of light and dark in immeasurable amounts. I know those eyes, so well, the skeptical…

  Poem 9- Poetry Half Marathon 2015.   Random Thoughts……   My fingers fly over the keyboard. I hear the sing song of the sparrow, one of my songbirds in the background. The songbirds are more hushed today.The weather is warm…the sun is climbing the…