"By a voice he saith: Hear me, ye divine offspring, and bud forth as the rose planted by the brooks of waters. [18] Give ye a sweet odour as frankincense. [19] Send forth flowers, as the lily, and yield a smell, and bring forth leaves in grace, and praise with canticles, and bless the Lord in his works." (Ecclesiaticus, a.k.a. Sirach, 39:17-18)

I am a rose by the living waters
My roots reach deep into the river’s bed
My thorny arms reach out to the heavens

Angelic choirs descend from the heavens
their arms full of graces poured like waters
upon the earth. I quicken in my bed

Glorious is the sunrise warming my bed
Blessed are the rains sent by the heavens
This humble flower, my own Lord waters

Pure waters  cleanse my bed to yield roses for the heavens.


It is a kiss
like no other –
tender –
that began
when your eyes lit up
when you saw mine
across the room
and you came to me
as though you’re drowning
in need of air.
Your lips met mine
like a butterfly
landing on a flower.
No words capture
the spell
binding us even more
nor the wish
that such moments
stretch to forever






I look at you
and I am filled with a longing
to hold you as you were –
the infant in my arms.
it seems that the sun rose
and the sun set overnight
and here you are-
an infant no more-
discovering your world on your own.
And I look at you
I see a man
carving his path in the world
and I am filled with a longing
to hold you as you were –
the infant in my arms.
I look at you
I see what was
and what will be
all at once.

WPC:  Nostalgia



I flew to the stars
shared the vacuum
that's their space - 
chaos bothered me.

I ran to the woods
lost the world among the trees - 
the rustling leaves
brought the world's cries to me.

I rushed to the battlefields
muzzled the guns
stopped the wars
healed some wounds
dried some tears 
still - 
peace eluded me.

I look for peace 
in the crowd
and in the silence 
of a prayer -
the disquiet within
clang in my soul.

For:  WPC:  Quest
Dverse Poets' Pub:  Open Link Night


When I run empty
I fill up with music
the one where the cello sings
and caresses my spirit
with its voice
low and sonorous
gently calling pieces of me 
to life
and lifting me up
like a lover holding me by my hands
moving  me  across the room
by a slow dance
towards the window bathe in light
there I lift my eyes
where the music glides
up towards the skies
there I float
on a bed of clouds
and meld 
with the breath 
of existence

This piece and The Swan by St. Saens, which I was listening to prior to this, inspired this little piece of poem. Listening to cello and violin pieces are a favorite way of mine to relax after a long day. I hope you enjoyed the music. 🙂


fallen-applesThis fallen seed is the hope of winter
carrier of life in its death
breath secreted in the frozen womb
tomb concealing its rebirth.
Mirth bides its time to spring
Ringing bells peal the resurrection hymn
Poems immortalize the glorious dawn
when mourning veils are lifted.
Afflicted hearts soar to the heavens
Incense perfume the air once more
Store in the hearts this promise:
This fallen seed is the hope of winter.

The photo, by Pauline Eccles,  is the inspiration for this poetry prompt by Jane DOugherty - Circles and Cycles.  I wrote a second one after the first piece that I made for this prompt turned out to be not a circular poem.  Somehow, I missed some important part of the instructions on how to write a proper circular poem.  I am glad for the mistake though because I got another chance to write another piece.  :-)