My grandson loves to play with slime, It’s never been a friend of mine. It’s gooey, sticky and yucky, The color of it is very mucky. He loves it though I don’t see why, He even tried to make some, My oh my!

He is truly my medieval knight; I seek him again this life. Maybe it’s a memory? Or perhaps a book I read. I seek him again this life. He existed then, he must now! Or only lives in a book I read. How can I…

I know you don’t like him think he’s no good for me and I can do better but I just can’t help myself each time I get near him there’s something about him that just draws me in I get so wrapped up in everything…

dear owl please stop you midnight celebrations some of us have to work in the morning

Found Poetry: from Look Homeward Angel at times she would feel great love clustered about the slumbering children   she tried to cry, but her fury wove a pattern of chaos daily   what rooted instinct saved every desire for him? eliza was damned.

the feel of coral colored rose petals Upon the soles of feet the smell of lavender on skin Silkiness of jojoba oil in hair henna adorned hands essence of silver garments of fine threads Royalty Remembered  

The clouds reflect the memories past Wind sweeps them away, never to last secrets held so deep in this place Impressions of every emotion and face A place once with life, now empty and bare No laughter to warm it, no sorrow to share A…

There’s an elephant in the room It stands on my lips Wraps its thick gray trunk Around my throat Constricting breath Restricting honesty Prodding me to go on With charades and games What this circus needs Is a ringmaster without a whip One with purring…

You accept me for being me, the greatest gift, only you can give. i can be myself, with no other pretense and you never complain. when I feel like crying or don’t laugh at your joke and when I am upset, you give me some…

the patron saint of cooking stands in my kitchen now with the pantry doors wide open sweat upon her brow   stands in my kitchen now the counter filled with harvest sweat upon her brow a fresh loaf of bread also now rests   the counter…