For every day her attention was not elsewhere led, the universe would make its loving advance
Upon the Cliffside
Willow-Like
We flow, blurring the fading wike between writer and write
Old Clouds
With lethargic vim, the clouds roll overhead as I hope they do when I'm 94
The Dark Shelf
Darkness seems to lie in wait - in every shadow that we make
Here’s A Poem
Sometimes we have to choose to not take ourselves too seriously - Ooo... So here's a poem. Bye. Oooo. (Bayou???)
I Will Do This Someday
What a hopeless phrase. What a terribly, terribly hopeless phrase.
The Smiling Elf-Child
Through stained glass windows are partridges//Singing in the boughs//Reciting favorite passages//That pleasantly could rouse//The dear elven-child//From his lovely dream//And with a lovely, toothless smile//His candor would brightly beam
Forever, With You
Dear love of mine, what I wouldn't do to find your fingers intertwined in the holes of my life
The Air Around Your Lungs
And who says you must wait until time's nearly up to learn how to scream//to learn how to breathe//or to learn how to notice the air around your lungs
December Rose 