Her eyes, mouth and stance
smolder, smiling suggestion
one slow minute holds a glance.
Adds many a wondering question,
what causes her eyes to be so bright
so full of hard won knowledge?
In their depth you could lose
your sanity for the raw pain held
in her wilderlands. Yet there
is a deeper homespun wisdom
at her core as she glows with
a base of swirling loves regret.
Pretty face belies the fighter,
who was born of hard knocks
and betrayal. Her inner strength has
changed her into the warrior

Branches bare shift in the wind
Tickle each other in icy caress
Clothe themselves in crystal dreams
January’s opera dress

Music of their clang and chime
Broadcast loud and clear to all
Conducted by four wailing gales
These wind chimes of the winter call

I niggled the nog of a Niggley-Noo
Who didn’t know quite what to do
So he niggled his nog and said “Who are you?”
I replied, “I’m the King of Kalloo.”

I pummelled the pouch of a Punchy-Palloo,
An action for me that was new
He spluttered the words, “Can it really be true?”
“Are you really the King of Kalloo?”

I wiggled the wag of a Wiggleye-Woo
To my joy, he did wiggle it too
As he giggled the words “Can it really be you?”
“My old friend the King of Kallo?”

when does
surviving become living?
writhing, shaking
the tears are hot and unwanted
what do they think of me?
dissecting my very being,
looking for whats wrong
and I
look into the mirror of my vanity
The girl I see, is wailing a horrible song
she's prettier than you, she proudly proclaims
for even she is sure of her own name
I shatter the glass, it scattering everywhere
blood dripping into my hair
and she's still THERE.
multiplied on each shard

Pools of liquid sky
left behind by idle seas,
gather in the kelp.

A sea, brimmed with storm,
invites the streeting clouds to
spill light in its waves.

I commit my heart to the trees
Amongst whose shade I walk
Glade is thick and darkening
Trail is long and forked

I know this forest, we are one
It calls me back to hold my heart
Lifting me from rank despair
Offering new starts

Pine and spruce reminding me
As do the stretching firs
Even through the winter’s cold
Greening life still stirs

Boughs in sun or laden thick
Lush beneath a heavy snow
Reminding me that burdens cold
Also make us grow

My mom playing the radio
dancing with the broom
singing of Old Black Magic
as she swept around the room

Blues on a hot summer day
at grandma's and auntie Kit's
The whir of a fan and slap of cards
her amber glass of Tiger Schmidt's

I learned I had a bass voice
Sweet Lips Closer to The Phone
I sang country, rock and roll
I had a Jim Reeves tone

I Couldn't Get No Satisfaction
so I tried most everything
I found my taste eclectic
but certain things I had to sing

Inspiration from on high
Illuminating morning sky
Translucent clouds are nacreous
Spectral, quilted and tumescent

Conversing over love and life
Colors match the current mood
A voyeur to their heart-to-heart
Yet I never hear a clue

Upon occasion, upward gaze
Reveals a cotton candy sky
Troubles simply melt away
As do the questions “why?”