RAIN

LullabiesFrom long agoThe rains sing Tenderlyfalling raindropsSoothe the night Even the starsDim their lightsFor some rest And wakeupTwinkling insidea dewdrop Linking with DVerse’s Open Link Night

TO A HYDRANGEA PAST ITS PRIME

You have lost the vibrance of your huesYour blushing pink, sweet lavender, or sky blueHave long faded into sage green leavingFaint traces of what you once wereHinting of what will be. Veins on your petals writeAll the summer days and all the stormy daysThat deepened your roots. You have changedYou are changingYet in this world

SEASONS

Sunflower, bent with age, lets fall her seedsSeptember brought the chill to August’s swelter Summer’s grandeur is on the wane, and ISquirrel away its taste and fragrance Serene is the sunlight filtering through the windowShining on memories Songs and words have forgottenSolitude hovers in the horizon Sparrows dance a merry dance for the seeds in

WHEREVER THE SUNFLOWERS ARE

Wherever the sunflowers are is summer calling the butterflies to feast and the gold finch to sing Wherever the sunflowers are is cheer neither night nor stormy days could dim Guileless faces, untouched by care, in their heart is the certitude the sun is always there.

HAPPINESS

  A party of blue jays flew over my headinto the forest, going home for the night I chase happiness flying with fresh wingsand dream of it well into the night I ran here and there until the lights went outSitting by my window, I stared down the night Stars glistened, the half moon smilednight

GOLD

I speak of wealth –of golden hearts and golden timeWherever I am is grandeur –golden sunrise, golden grainsgoldenrods, golden shrines I am the magic of August nightswhen fireflies flit aboutIn the gloom of winter nightsI bring hope twinkling from the heights Truly, I am beautyand treasure much desireda desire that need  be reinedas  old King

BEGINNING

The counters are still emptyThe cold floor is still cleanThe sky is still grey – The furnace wakessputtering and clanging as steam builds up. I set the coffee to percolate flour the counterfor the brioche dough prepared last night to be kneaded and braidedand tucked in the pansfor one final rise. Light spreads on the

THIS MORNING

This morning, yesterday’s snow glistened under the rising sun, and autumn berries bowed beneath their icy crown. A cardinal from the treetop sang filled with color the bare winterscape my spirit danced to the glorious sound From tree to tree, little sparrows chirped the consecration of this new day; Their carefree joy let no one

DOODLES

The dips and arcs of a bumblebee’s flight The curve of a blade of grass laden with dewdrops The twirl of tendrils adorning pea and watermelon vines My pen traces Its gel ink glides Smoothly tracing the lines and curls Now a flower Or a butterfly Morphing into words Building a poem Until the once

SAILBOAT

My little sailboat floundersIn a sea of whispersHas it forgotten its courseAmidst so many voicesSaying go north, or south, or east, or west?My little sailboat spinsIn the currents. Is there hope for my sailboatEnsorcelled as it isBy sweet-voiced sirensHarboring evil schemes? Alas! Not the pull of the moonNor the push of the windsCould set my