Hour 6

I wait outside the door I listen to the sobs inside The door is locked, I cannot come in Let me in, baby girl Let me say it will be alright

Hour 5

A red brick facade, a stately double door Curios adorning the walls, crystal chandeliers shining down The warm glow from the fireplace with armchairs completing the look The open, inviting kitchen where meals are cooked with love The cozy library in the corner with a hundred…

Hour 4

The baby is asleep Now is her time To take a nap Take a shower Cook a meal Do the laundry Eat hot food Read a book Watch a show Call a friend Wash my hair The list goes on She can’t get up She…

Hour 3

It’s easy to miss Those little things Lost in our busy world We often cannot see The squirrel on a tree Bright eyed, busy tailed Foraging all around Busy with its own existence And I wonder in bewilderment How are we all that different?

Hour 2

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…

Hour 1

It’s just the first hour With eleven more to follow I am staring at a blank page I am willing the words to flow I thought writing came easy to me I am an author, that’s my job Yet a simple poem eludes me I…

Hour twenty four

Outside my window   A clothes line on which I’ve hung hurriedly my towel and my t-shirt— wrinkled   A few flower pots with seasonal flowers— all colours   A white wall with fine cracks— revealing its grey body

Hour twenty two

Black velvet on your ivory skin   Hair pinned bare neck   A sideway glance from you, Senorita, lights my sullen room

Hour Twenty

A flower pot resides next to my work station   Sometimes a flower blooms with a red glistening texture its subtle fragrance all over   Sometimes a thorn pricks my conscience its consequence all over   The crimson pot— my muse stays forever.

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