Wednesday, August 31, 2011


Silent Rings
And Rusty boxes
Time ticks by
No knocks I hear.
Outside my window
Continued noises
Laughter, Lights
That’s all I hear.

Silent Rings
And rusty boxes
Bells not heard
And notes not writ
Time ticks on and on and on
Traffic hums
And pulses run
That’s all I know.


Where to go and what to do

When will I find someone who,

Will fill my ears with ringing and knocking
Stop the sound of the tick, tick, tocking.
Take me where the laughter is
Traffic STOP, when I am his.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011


“Have you seen my bicycle?” I asked the finch in the old fruit tree. The finch chirped twice and said to me, “If it was rode by a large lap toad then no. But if perchance it had a pink-haired maiden of the sea, with purple fins and ebony limbs then yes the bike I did see.”

“You’ve seen it sir. Where did she go? I really do must know.”  Inside the tree the finch said to me and pointed to the door; a large empty spot that if you’re not aware of you won’t see.

So I climbed in and looked about and somewhere towards the bottom I caught sight of shimmering strands of pick hair on the breeze. As quick as light I followed them as they turned around the corner but once I arrived I was denied the presence of this thief.

I followed along a cobblestone path till I came upon a harlequin. All dressed in black and quite alone I asked it my same question. “Friend Quin please tell me have you seen a mermaid gone for a ride? She’s taken my bike and I must have it back have you seen her Quin?” I asked.

Quin looked up and silently sighed but said nothing about my quest. Then Quin looked up at me and smiled. She pointed at my vest and as she pointed she then looked up and saw my purple cap. Happier still she almost squealed as she pointed at that. So I took of my clever cap and placed it on Quins head. And as if the purple hue had gone down through her face her whole attire truly changed to reds and blues with taste.

Now a happy harlequin she pointed towards the sunset and peddled as if on a bike to let me know I was not done yet. I thanked Quin then journeyed on to catch that fine finned thief.

Up and down again and again I traveled rather quick. Hill and Hill and Hill again till I reached the highest peak. I saw her at this lofty place but when to the bottom I did race I lost her round a bend.

I finally reached a willow grove and seems the mermaid must have rested within each branch for just as a wave her pink hair it did cascade from every single branch. And tire tracks they circled through leaving not a clue.

So I sat down and thought a bit then had a great idea. I gathered all her errant strands and braided them my dear. I braided long I braided hard I braided it with hope. Then in the end my efforts spent I’d created quite a rope.

I threw it high up in the sky and there it hung for me. I climbed my rope with love and hope to view above with glee. Suspended high up in the sky I looked around and found that somehow I had now returned to solid ground. And stranger still the ground beneath was far too familiar you see. It turns out when I looked about my room was where I’d been.

I crept over to my window and carefully peaked out. There she was just sitting waiting smiling at my return. She winked at me and waved at me and through the air did float a magical message just for me in the form of a musical note.

The notes told me in great detail how she’d enjoyed our journey. The chase was great, the speed, the wait you were a wondrous foe. The stuff you seek awaits for you someplace you always go. Thanks once again for the adventure friend but towards home I must begin. Whenever the urge to play finds you please don’t hesitate to invite me out again for you I’ll always wait. But next time please do keep in mind that cycles are tough on fins.

With that she vanished into the night faded into a dream. With that the adventure closed for a bit but you know I opened it again. I’ve yet to catch that fast finned maid she keeps up an excellent chase. The race has been moved to the skies up above. Cycles were fine but the flying I love, a fast flying mermaid in the heavens above. My, what a wondrous sight.

Monday, August 29, 2011


Time goes by so very quickly

And life’s just a moment within

Hold fast to dreams

Try to make them come true

Before your chance has to end.

Friday, August 26, 2011


Birth , death and rebirth
The beginning starts the end;
Born to die again.

Beginning and end
It cycles over again
for both me and you.

Rational minds think
suffering is sad but true.
Future's start soon ends.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Duck Butt

Pointing, laughing, giggling til crying
Quick take a picture
At this sight I'm dying.

It's funny. 
It's silly.
It's childish that's true.

What else would you do
When Duck Butt
Pops UP
In front of you?

Wednesday, August 24, 2011


There are Mushrooms Growing in the Hall
by the carpet near the wall.
What's the reason for it all?
Mushrooms growing in the hall.

Why did you grow here?
What brought you so near?
Not welcomed I fear.
Why did you grow here?

White, umbrella topped and small;
Your life developed in a carpeted hall.
What's the reason for it all;
Mushrooms growing in the hall.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011


A world built on a merry-go-round

Is what I’m living on.

Round-n-round-n-round it goes

Faster then slower then faster again.

I wish it would slow down a bit.

I wish it would so much.

Life goes by quite fast enough

Without this added touch.

Monday, August 22, 2011


Alone in a room full of people

Alone in a strange new place

A small light is shining

A small light so bright

It glows and it glimmers to light up the sky.

That small light is me

Longing to be free

To feel in place for once and for all.

Alone is no longer the stronger of feelings

Alone no more in a crowd.

Now I am that light shining bright

That light that draws in a crowd.

Friday, August 19, 2011


As we lay naked in the darkness
He suckled at my breast,
Just as a child nurses from its mother.
He held on to me more than I to him.
We were both quiet.

I began to wonder at this meeting.
 “What do you think of this?”
He said, “I don’t.”
IF he doesn’t think and I don’t want to know
Did it really happen?
It’s an answer less question.

But if it’s Yes, then it happened
And if it’s No, then it did not.
But if I know and He knows
How could it not happen?
Why are we here?

As we lay naked in the darkness
He held on to me tighter than I to him
I closed my eyes and asked myself
“What do you think of this?”
Myself said, “I Don’t”

Thursday, August 18, 2011


I seem to have every freedom

But where have I to go?

Alone in this large city

Who do I really know?

I can go most anywhere

But why go there alone?

Nothing’s all it seems you see

Not even when you’re grown.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011


All the world loves you

But no one really cares.

All the world is happy

But everyone’s in despair.

All we need is freedom

But someone’s locked the door.

Everyone should shine out

But someone’s turned off the light.

All the world could sing out

But someone’s turned down the sound.

Laughter it should ring out

Though someone’s always crying.

All the world rejoices life

Yet someone’s always dying.

This is happening everywhere

We really can not stop it.

Happiness and despair

It seems they go hand in hand.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011


And he said, “I’ll miss you

With all my heart and soul.

I’ll always want you by me

Till we both grow old.”

And he said, “I’ll miss you.”

As I walked away.

Away into the sunset

Of another day.

And he said, “I’ll miss you”

Far too late to hear.

Far too late to appreciate.

Far too late my dear.

Monday, August 15, 2011


I am a free spirit with no definite direction.

I go wherever the wind blows.

I play by my own set of rules.

I’ve no definite meaning.

No definite form.

I go as I please.

I am as I am.

I’m nothing to no one.

Everything to some.

It’s easy to tell you,

But difficult to see.

I am a free spirit

Living and doing whatever I please.

Friday, August 12, 2011


Connecting energy in you

Connecting energy in me

Be open to the realm of possibilities

Connecting energy in threes.

One’s flowing in. One’s flowing out
One’s flowing through and all about
Be open to the realm of possibilities
Connecting energy in threes.

You plant your feet stand like a tree
You stretch as tall as you can be
Reach out your arms for what it’s worth
Connect your energy with earth

Sky up above the ground below
We’re all connecting don’t you know
Our own perfect holy trinity
Heaven and earth with you and me

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Brushing the Brim

It's a good thing I am not an alcoholic.
I fear it would be too easy.

You hold onto the glass for comfort,
the small tangible feel of a delicate object
your only friend.

Lucky for me it's only filled
with orange juice or an occasional milkshake.

It's so easy to carry around this friend;
the only tangible thing.
Spilling the contents inside to 
fill up your empty space.

Over and over again
your lips brush the brim.
The liquid spills inside and then
you're full but not content.

For in the end 
the glass is empty once again
And you see the bottom
And fear the end.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011


Wednesdays are wrong for no reason
Hump day to most of the world
It just takes up space
A mid-week disgrace
To this simple city girl

In mans great design
the days realign to
make Monday the start of the week.

Tuesday's despair
is  most people don't care
to give it a moment to speak.

Thursday's got status
it's great apparatus is it's
the new start to the pleasures we seek

Friday and Saturday
the weekend begins
filled with laughter and friends
Of whatever else we shan't speak.

Sunday's respite
A solemn delight
Where we reflect on what happened
Saturday Night

But Wednesdays are wrong for no reason
Hump day to most of the world.
It just takes up space
A mid-week disgrace
to this simple city girl.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011


If I were to describe a perfect rose,
I’d say it was the reddest red,
The longest stemmed and most delicate.

I’d say it was the one
With the blossoms slightly tinged
From the suns sweet kisses.

The rose with the tiny holes
From where a worm has eaten.
The one slightly bowed in posture.

You might think this strange of me
Nothing’s truly perfect in this world
Not you. Not me.
Not even a perfect rose.


If I were to describe a perfect rose
I’d say it was the one of reddest red
The one which stands with an excellent pose
With shim’ring dewdrops set upon its head.

A flower that is eaten full of holes
Whose blossoms tend to curl and then sit back
One which does not grow up to gard’ners goals
And which is tinged the color of black.

I know you think this strange of me to say
Because my details vary with great ease
Descriptions tend to often fade away
As if upon a gentle summers breeze.

Nothings truly perfect in this world.
Not flower blossoms little boys or girls.

Monday, August 8, 2011


 I took a walk in to nowhere but I’m not sure if I’ve returned. I see my house. I see my clothes and all the things I’ve earned. But I only remember walking into nowhere and I cannot quite recall, if I ever reached the shiny black brick barrier, which marked my return trip home.

Once while I was walking around I swore I heard a checkered bird call my by my nick-name., Yoli was the sound I heard I blinked and on the ground I found tiny prints and peacock feathers golden puddles and scribbled letters but the bird had disappeared. I closed my eyes and cleaned my ears.

I took a walk into nowhere. I‘m certain of that fact on the return path I saw a finch with a purple cap. I blinked once then once again he didn’t disappear. At least until I thought to take a chance and venture nearer.

Yes I took a walk in to nowhere and no one can tell me I didn’t, but whether or not I’ve returned again I really cannot say. It’s been fun I guess, but maybe just to see I think I’ll walk the other way to see what’s there for me.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

PERJHA (1992)

I’d just gotten of the bus and was heading home to sleep when I met up with the sweaty truck driver. I was wearing all black. I looked appropriately dressed for a funeral and not a chance encounter. Black ballet slipper shoes, long flowing dress matching bandanna and even ebony earrings. It was amazing, I wasn't sweating as much as the truck driver considering how hot it was. He wanted my number. That was funny. Some strange guy in a machine filled truck actually thinking he was going to get “the digits” as they say. Maybe if he weren't so hairy he’d have a chance; then again, probably not. But it’s always fun to flirt. I told him I wasn't interested He kept asking, begging actually so I finally did my usual. I told him I’d get his number and I even promised to call at least once. He looked suspiciously at me. “Are you really going to call?” I smiled. “I promise I’ll call you at least once.” I had every intention of calling hi. It would of course be when all civilized folk would be at work but it would be a call nonetheless. He begrudgingly gave ME the digits. I smiled and walked away after making sure he wasn't following me. A girl can’t be too careful.
As I started towards home I noticed a little Grey car. I had seen it pass by while I was talking to Mr. Hairy but I hadn’t thought much about it. It was the same car I was sure of it. The driver looked as if he were watching me and I couldn’t help but be a bit intrigued because this was a new experience for me. I mean one chance encounter can happen and usually does but two encounters in a row, that’s something.
I’ve always liked a second helping and this one looked much better than the first. He appeared to be looking for a good place to park, which was odd because the street was fairly open. I managed to head home at a rather slow stroll and glance at him on occasion. HE watched me as I slowly approached. He was beautiful, big green eyes, dark black hair, summer tan and perfect lips looked up at me through tinted glass. It scared me and I quickened my pace. His expression seemed lost, actually it was more he seemed confused. It looked as if he was trying to come to a conclusion regarding something or another and he was having a difficult time. I passed his car and I felt him follow me with his eyes. He didn’t speak though. Too bad, I thought. Oh, well maybe only one encounter today.
I walked into my complex, stopped to check the mail then headed for the stairs. I always hated the fact that my laziness could not be accommodated at home. No elevator in this place, just lots and lots of stairs. I only lived on the second floor but there were three flights of stairs because the first floor was actually the garage, the second floor the 1st and the 3rd floor the 2nd what a weird building. We had a great courtyard though. It had several benches and a lovely garden. When I finally reached the top I just happened to look down and see Green Eyes standing in the courtyard. He looked as if he were looking for someone, maybe me I hoped. So as not to appear desperate I jingled my keys as I headed for my door. It worked. He looked up and yelled, “Excuse me” in a lovely foreign accented voice. Leaning over the railing I replied “Yes” He paused as if not quite sure of what to say. He finally concocted some story about looking for someone who he thought lived here but he hadn’t seen in a while. I just smiled and said I didn’t know of anyone with that name in the building at the moment. I told him he might check with the manager. He paused again and then with a sheepish grin asked me if I might come join him in the courtyard.
I smiled at him for some inexplicable reason I wanted to find out more about this stranger who had followed me home. I told him to hold on a minute as I left all my valuables in my house. I still had some sense of self-preservation. When I finally came down we sat side by side on a bench next to one of those trees that smelled wonderful because of it many purple blossoms. I wish I knew what that scent was.
He was obviously uncomfortable and I thought that odd because I was the one putting myself in jeopardy. I was sitting alone in the courtyard of my apartment with a total stranger. Even though he seemed uncomfortable I felt he was determined to talk to me for whatever reason. I’m still not sure why he was so driven to talk to me. I may never know. He started by telling me he actually knew the person he’d asked me about. It was a long time ago and he no longer knew how to find her. She had lived here. He then also confessed that it was a way for him to open a conversation with me; a poor opening at best, but an opening that got him here with me.

It’s much easier in my country to make friends and to talk to anyone you please. You should be more careful and not let strangers like me get so close to you. I know America is a dangerous place for young girls like you” He couldn’t have been much older than me and he was talking to me like a child. Part of me wanted to smack him but the rest of me was laughing too much to do anything. “I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself. Thanks for your concern though.” We sat silently for a moment. “My Name is Perjha and you?” “Onyx”, I said. He did the usual beautiful, unusual name stuff and then proceeded to talk of everything and nothing all at once. All I could think was I couldn’t believe that such an attractive guy was chatting me up and that he was going to lie to me with every breath he took. Well, maybe not every breath but at least every other breath. We talked till the sun set. The conversation was exquisite. I’m a sucker for a great conversationalist and this guy could tell me anything about everything. Sometimes I think he was making it up as he went along, but it didn’t matter he was playing my song.
Something so cosmic is inevitably flawed. One of the many tricks you learn as a single female is to scope out the ring finger of the man trying to catch your attention. Unfortunately my eyes detected a lovely gold band on the marriage hand. It was not a thumb ring, a pinky ring or even a lollipop ring for a snack; it was a simple wedding band. I hate that. I saw it. I looked away and looked back at it. I pretended I hadn’t scoped his hand so I could rescope with different results. No matter how often I checked and double-checked, the ring was still there and so was I. I couldn’t bring myself to ask about the ring or to tell him to go away the force of him was that strong. He asked me if I could possibly see myself inviting him up for a drink and I replied I don’t have any alcohol in my place. He assured me he was just thirsty and nothing more. So, I invited him up. I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking. I was sure that it felt absolutely perfect. So many thoughts ran through my mind as we walked towards the stairwell and then slowly climbed. He brushed the back of my leg with his knee and I wasn’t sure if it was an accident or done intentionally. It felt right. I could feel his frame shadowing me as we came around the bend. I could feel him staring at me as we finally reached my landing. I couldn’t walk faster if I tried. I could barely breathe. I know that I’m not in the best of shape but I never became winded climbing the stairs. He made me nervous and I didn’t care. How does something like this happen to me? What exactly is happening? I met a man in the middle of the street and now he’s following me home.
I gave him lemonade. We sat on the tiny pin-striped couch in my living room and somehow managed to remain in neutral corners. He told me stories of Kings and Queens and sailing wax. Well maybe not sailing wax but more than half of them were tall tales I’m sure. When there were details of pain and hardship though, I felt they were genuine tales. He seemed to me a troubled soul a beautiful, charming, troubled man-child. As he relayed a particularly fanciful tale he gestured wide with his hands. I noticed a distinct lack of wedding band. Now, I am 100% positive that I saw a ring. I would not have put that band on his finger just to torture myself at least I don’t think I would. I do have a warped imagination. The mystery of the ring’s disappearance was soon solved. There became a brief moment of silence where we both happened to glance out the window. It was much darker than it was when we first entered. When I checked the clock it stated the time as 7:52 P. M. we had been engrossed in conversation for nearly 4 hours. It was well past time for him to be on his way. He rose to leave and underneath him lay the solitary band. We both saw it lying there. He looked at it then looked at me and smiled. He smiled a smile I’m sure he’d smiled a thousand times before. A smile he’d used to get out a trouble since he was maybe four.
He told me he was embarrassed to have it as he slid it back in place. He said he hadn’t thought I would talk to him if I had seen it. He told me he was married to stay in the country to a woman who was just a good friend and wanted to help him. Now anyone with common sense would see right through that line of bull. If that were a true story he could have said it right up front and he wouldn’t have worried about the ring. I have common sense but I wanted to believe otherwise so I accepted his explanation as fact. He called me the next day. We talked of Europe and his childhood. How he wasn’t really close to his parents or his siblings except for one baby sister whom he adored. He’d been a hoodlum in his youth; a body builder with long hair, running wild in the streets. He’d been a model for a moment and a loner for even longer. He’d traveled the rails and somehow managed to earn enough with odd jobs to bring him here to America where he met his friend turned wife.
He told me he was no older than I was before I told him an age. He told me so much that my head overflowed and one word kept coming to mind. Lies, all of it lies is what I thought. Beautiful, charming, convincing, disarming lies were all he said. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. But even through the lies I unearthed grains of truth. He was an arrogant spoiled brat with a father that only half cared and a mother whom he resented for not always being there. He was afraid to be alone but even more afraid to care for fear of being hurt. He was I. I had met myself and was afraid of seeing me so clearly. Every fear and every dream all the smoke and mirrors of my reality were reflected in Perjha. My own soul looking me in the eyes and not wanting me to go was Perjha. My first true connection with another human being was Perjha. Another woman’s husband was Perjha. I kept trying to convince myself to believe his outlandish tale of just being married to stay in the country. I knew it was a lie but I didn’t want o make him go away. Not yet. Besides what harm could there be in making a new friend, it’s not as if we’ve done anything. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. He asked if he could come over. He said he needed to see me. He said it so simply. I said come over. Almost immediately he was here.
He looked even better than the day before. He was wearing the popular outfit of white tank top under an open shirt and black jeans. He brought a gift as well, a lovely bottle of champagne. Somehow we never got around to the champagne. We resumed our positions on the couch and continued to converse. His stories were never ending. Without warning he kissed me; a long, lingering soul touching kiss. My thought about nothing happening became a memory as we kissed. All thoughts vanished and time passed but neither of us noticed. The words stop and no were slowly loosing meaning. He took my hands, led me to the patch of floor by my window and began to do one of the most cliché moves in history. He danced with me as he sang “Misty” softly in my ear. Cliché and all I loved the mood. The moment was an exquisite first. Dancing in the dark as he sang the words no and stop left my brain and he won. I’m pretty sure he knew he would. I’m pretty sure I knew he would. We stopped dancing to move on to better things. You know, just because momma brought me up knowing right from wrong, it didn’t mean the lines didn’t cross from time to time. This was definitely one of those times. I knew what I wanted was wrong but our connection was just too strong for me to deny.
He didn’t call me the next day. He didn’t call me the following day, the day after that or the day after that either. I thought he was gone. I had no way to contact him and I was sure I’d never see him again. He had told me that he lived nearby but I lived near everywhere and nearby could be in any direction. His self defense mechanism was truth coated in lies so for all I knew I was just passing through and nearby could be another city. I missed him. I hated that. He’d gotten so close to me and now he wasn’t there. I knew I should have been stronger. I just couldn’t because I didn’t want to be strong. I’ll forget about him, eventually. A week or so after this my phone rang. Someone on the other side sang “Misty” to me. I smiled against my will. “Hello Perjha.” He asked me not to be mad at him but to help him instead. He told me he had spent the past weeks thinking of what had happened. He asked if he could come over and of course I said yes. He came over and we talked. I couldn’t understand how we could talk about everything so easily. The subject of the day was music and us. Perjha and I were so alike in so many ways I could scarcely believe he hadn’t found a complete dossier about me and had memorized the key points to imitate.
I kept locking up the thoughts in my head. Random thoughts like: “You’re now the other woman. What could possibly come of this? What if he goes away again?” I didn’t want to be logical and in control anymore. Perjha would be my secret, my tall, dark and handsome secret. He made me happy and I would think of nothing else, not the wife I’d never meet or the guilt I felt in general regarding the whole situation. I enjoyed our conversations. He’d call me or come over and we would talk as we played cards or sat in our usual spots on the couch; harmless engaging conversations. I think we talked so much because Perjha needed a friend. He seemed to have no one in which to confide his problems. I felt that if I could keep him as a confidant then I would feel no guilt at our meetings. It was hard. Perjha attempted to make love to me on several occasions and each time it became more and more difficult to say no. He’d pout each time he was defeated. I couldn’t help but laugh at his frustration. I didn’t want to tell him he wasn’t alone. He’d eventually laugh and smile his four-year-olds smile grab me up into a big bear hug and hold me for hours. We’d hug and he’d leave.
Everything would have continued if I’d never seen his wife. I was standing at the bus stop waiting to start my morning commute when I saw them. His car was directly across from me. He saw me. I saw his wife. She was so tiny and sweet. She was very attractive too. She looked like a woman in love. That look made me die inside. My fantasy world came to an abrupt end. Perjha came over that night and I told him to go away. He wouldn’t leave. I told him we couldn’t continue. It was no longer a game. He wouldn’t listen. He grabbed me, pinned me against a wall and said, “I want you, all of you. You can’t deny you want me. You enjoy this game of teasing me and telling me to go away. I won’t let you send me away. I want you. All of you.” He was right. I did enjoy it but it couldn’t continue. I’d seen the other woman. I’d seen the wife and no matter how I wanted to lie to myself, I knew she loved him and he was married to her not me. “Please go away.” I quietly said. He looked at me and then he did. I was alone again. I fell back into my previous routine.
I waited at my stop well before or well after the time I saw him with his wife. As much as I wanted to catch a glimpse of him, I knew it would be better if I didn’t. I lay awake at night thinking of him. I would tell myself to get over it. My subconscious never listened. I would often dream of us. Places we’d been or snatches of conversation. One night I dreamed he returned to me without his ring. I awoke to the phone ringing. It was Perjha. He told me he was moving and that he and his wife were getting a divorce. He was lying again. I felt it but I didn’t care. He told me what I wanted to hear and heard how much he needed me in his voice. He came over. It was magic. He felt so good. I wished I’d given in again sooner. IT was wondrous until that final climax. We’d done it again and we both knew it was wonderful but wrong. We lay there silently for a while. We didn’t need to speak. He kissed me slowly and tenderly. He held me tight and then he left. He remained in my life for another week. We had numerous phone conversations regarding politics and current affairs. We even discussed our own affair. On the last day I saw him he told me the truth of his age, adventures and wife. I listened as if the information was new but I’d discovered all the truth long ago.
I decided to make some tea. As I moved to the kitchen I did a little dance. We were listening to music and if music plays my body sways. He asked me to dance for him. I did. He smiled. His eyes followed my every move traveling up and down my form with unguarded desire. The song ended and I went to him. He wrapped me in a warm embrace. We remained that way for a while and then he smiled and hugged me before he left. I never saw him again. Not exactly never, he did show up in bits and pieces in the forms of future relationships. I’ve yet to find the complete package. One day I know I will. I hope he’s happy. My phone rings from time to time and no one says a word. I swear I hear “Misty” in the background. I could be wrong. Even still it’s a nice song to hear.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011


I walk along and what do I see

But the shadows of the future calling me

I turn around and what do I find
But the shadows of the past are on my mind
People tell me that what I see
Are just images playing with me
But I tell them I tell them that
Shadows are real if you want them to be
They’re something quite extraordinary
The places and people you’re longing to see
They’re not at all imaginary
But just between you and me
I know they’re the things I’m longing to see
I know they’re the things I imagine quite well
Are they the truth or can I tell

Tuesday, August 2, 2011


Broken Hearts and Shattered Dreams
Promises not kept
These are truly hurtful things
that make us feel inept.
When all’s not well inside your world;
When you are feeling lost.
Here’s a gift I give to you
Inside this trinket box.
Tiny pearls of wisdom
To cast out Seeds of Doubt.
A heart filled with hope and joy
When yours seems without.
Pennies from heaven
To make your dreams come true.
Each coin picked
Especially for you.
When you’re in need of comfort
And it seems far away,
A look inside this treasure chest
Will help you through the day.

Monday, August 1, 2011


Thanks for visiting.
I started this blog as a creative space to post my poetry, prose and short stories. I must admit I've been rather lax in keeping up. My aim is to revisit this goal and what better way to do this than at the start of a new month. Here's my original intro to this blog and hopefully now that we've been re-introduced the blogging world and I will have an on-going relationship.

I've been writing since I was 8 years old. I love it. Books are my friends. I keep a handwritten journal. I send thank you notes and letters via "snail mail". There is something about the written word that still appeals to me. If we are blogging then the word is not dead just just transferred to an electronic page. I have decided to try to share my written works in this modern world via the one place everyone seems to be these days-online.
I hope you enjoy what you read.