The Treasure It was in the soft moonlight in the after hours of her job where he came by her office and said his ‘good morning’ even though it was still dark she wanted him to be honest because she knew this one thing he…

NAS Prompt 4:  A Romantic Wedding   Romantic wedding brings family and friends, Buddhists and Catholics and others, together Outdoor ceremony with September’s gentle rain cooled and refreshed, didn’t linger Microphone announces  poets, flutist, readings, and we thank all guests for their part And these…

The silence that I have decided to use on you is the voice of reason that I have finally heard @ Renee Avard-Furlow June 13 2015

  Inanimate Friend, googly-eyed moss monster man, never leave my side.

#5/24 Some of my Stage Experience The best written script from which I have played lead is an intriguing, unpredictable tale of an odd woman at the age of 50 who is living almost alone, but not really alone enough for what she needs to…

My calves have always been my best feature, I think. I can thank mom for that, with her “Chicago Walk.” As she always called it. Never in a hurry, but always on the run. That was just her way. A speed walker at 9, I…

We sit quietly Under the soft moonlight Giddy and blushing Like teenagers in puppy love Rushing through my body are feelings Of anxiety, excitement and passion untamed and exchanged through our fiery glances We can’t deny the lust While you caress my inner thigh I feel your wandering…

I feel the softness of you, pressed against me. Feather-light, blood-warm, sugar-sweet saltiness that is you in the morning. Your lips at my throat, your hands at my ribs, fanning across the indentations like a blind man searching for the Braille poetry of our desire,…

Falling awake to the sound of dappling on the window. Tired eyes peeling open, expecting the sun’s warm glow, only to a glimmer of surface light.   Confusion develops as you begin to stretch. Certainty sinks in as you gasp for a breath. You have to…

I feel weightless while submerged The sounds in my ears are like a gentle thunder   I am free under the Shooshing water Creating ripples as I exhale small bubbles   Looking up, I see A distorted vision Of the land We call home  …