Son

Poem 24 Son He is his father’s son I look at him so many times Stealing glances And it always makes me smile He might not always know it but he is his father’s son His walk, his lips, his mannerisms, his tastes But he…

Windows of My Soul

I look out and see the possibilities of my life.  A vast terrain that I’ve yet to explore.  It is growing and beautiful, ripe to be tilled.  There overhead flies an eagle showing me the heights that I can reach.  I hear the song. I…

Poem no. 22 Baptism

I have found myself to be invisible. These muscles, weakened as they are, already drenched with the sensation of flowing water, have left me hesitant. Bereft. So I renounce the world. Abjure the tiny, gracious interactions that would tether me closer to the everyday. It…

Familiar face

What if I said I knew you were the one because I wrote about you before I knew you existed? I dreamed up your presence to sell books. I felt your sweet kiss captured between Pages written in my mind. A mental flip recalls your…

Lois

Everything I know of me I know because of you.  Without your love, my existence wouldn’t have a clue.  My literal identity is bridged inside your smile.  My heart reaches through eternity, connecting through the miles. Thank you for being the one to teach me…

Poem no. 21 I carry my darkness to the lightest day

And that this place may thoroughly be thought True paradise, I have the serpent bought. John Donne I carry darkness with me to the brightest day, when, falling from my careful grasp, it tumbles – careful and complete – into the moments of the earliest…

Strong and Silent

A marvelous artist with a perfect eye captured her better than a photographers’ lens.  Her countenance stood out from the shadows showing the victory over her pain.  Her porcelain skin was flawless and yet looked cold to touch.  She now lived comfortably in her soft, black velvet…

Poem no. 20 This

This turning back, unfolding, into yourself; this opening the papyrus uncurling the scroll marked thick and clear with the hieroglyphs of you. This slow easing open like a blossom under a cool spring moon; slipping gently, like liquid birdsong, along branches thick and rich with…

From A Boys Eyes

I strolled along a crooked road, the journey was so long. I had to pack for 30 days and sang a month of songs. The trees were all so very tall. The sun, it shone so bright. I wasn’t sure I would be found again…

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