Inside I alone am awake Silence is deafening until the computer suddenly hums An enormous fan nearly drowning all else out. Despite its noise I hear so much more Outside are birds, finches, swallows and crows Perhaps a raven an occasional duck But only rarely,…

Poem 3 In this empty house that I call home I am often unaccompanied but never alone, for these walls have helped raise me and console me in sorrow. How could I feel alone when there’s no loneliness here? -h.e.m.

For as beautiful as it is outside On this first full day of Summertime It is amazing how cold my feet are In the cool, damp grass Especially on that one side of the house that gets little sunlight I feel more alive now than…

It was my task to call the cows at milking time. I’d amble down the summer road, tipping at grasses with an unnecessary stick. On reaching the gate, I’d take a breath and let my voice ring out like morning across the day. I’d see…

One step forward Three steps back Little feet darting about Sheer rapture in every step Clapped on the mouth Then clasped in joy Two chubby little hands Flying about in mirthful glee Eyes dancing, face shining A look of awe on the face Excited chatter…

Bubbles Tiny hands and lit up faces craning skyward The green of summer surrounds And the bubbles float, the oil slick of their skin an iridescent silk, barely there.   Dancing eyes follow them Soft arms reach for them The glassy creatures bumble, and baby…

My magic is missing and, if I could, I would buy a potion from the high-desert herbalist to regain it. But the truth is, I’m lost, worn, emptied by grief. I light the candles I smell the incense I sound the bell I walk the…

I have stared death down and won. I have accomplished things they said I couldn’t. I have exceeded expectations of success. I have proven that limits are nothing more than guidelines, that aren’t rigid and are ment to be tested. I have done all of…

It does not exist because I believe in it, But I believe in it because it exits It’s all over the place, in everything you come across, In all you mesmerize, in every day of morning sun, In every colour of sunset, in every glance…

The reflection, looking back, resemble a Unicorn. The grandchild that adores Unicorns saw it too. Often, in moments of crisis the words, “I am Not a Unicorn” could be heard but still magic would happen. When you are rare, you are a Unicorn. Don’t even…