Wednesday, March 22, 2017


This is a page from a picture book I recently published, Kid Marble Meets Lisa
It inspired this poem.

Someday you'll see
Your reflection's stare
So luminous, you'll get scarred
As a mirror reveals
Facts you'd rather conceal

In truth immersed
You won't deny 
that some offenses you've dispersed
To people, animals, the entire Universe

But when that mirror shines
Deeper inside
Places you cannot hide
You'll feel a pure, genuine pride
Because you accomplished your life's quest
To do your best

That mirror will be so vast
You'll see all
Your present, your past
You'll see that you are
A person beautiful,  now free
Then you'll exclaim with glee
"Wow!  I really like Me."

(For Poets United.)

Sunday, March 19, 2017


The old peach tree

I go outside for a moment 
My intention is to enjoy a little peace
As I eavesdrop on nature's banter

The breeze whistles its morning breath 
Tickling leaves that wiggle 
Enjoying playful caress 
Little mouse squeaks as he hides in the drain pipe
Nervous rabbit scuttles then freezes behind a cactus
The old peach tree giggles at realization
That his blossoms contain secrets of fertilization 
Insects scurry playing hide and seek
In and out of earth's big and tiny crevices 
Birds fly away chirping a wild hilarity
I make the sound that breathing makes
The sun beams on us all

I sit still
Interpreting all these joyful communications
As silence

Sunday, March 12, 2017


We saw a jack rabbit on our walk this morning
It dashed across the desert
Leroy tried to spring after it
But I held tight his leash
I know the truth of dogs and rabbits
They know their truth of predator and prey
I can identify with both
Sometimes instinctively, fearfully I run 
from pain of truth 
Sometimes I have the tendency to chase it
Crunch it between my teeth
Let it ooze its vital juices
Down my open gulping throat
Wanting only to quench my thirst
Uncaring weather I devour life-giving flesh
or the poison of a rabid rabbit
I won't let Leroy chase rabbits
Though impulsively he'll always try
Me, I'll keep trying to not be a rabbit
I'd rather be the chaser 
Trying always to break loose from that tether
That keeps stopping me

(For Poets United.)

Wednesday, March 8, 2017


I'm no longer that pretty pink
Resting passively on white paper
So light but not bright, barely visible
A quiet adornment overshadowed
By other colors of might
I've allowed myself to blend
To flow into bolder values
That add essence to my pink
Creating something stark, noticeable, undefinable
Beauty and ugliness clash as my identity evolves
Mystery of becoming lives always in me
While pink, my love, remains the core of all
That I will ever be

(For Poets United.  Sending love to all women.  Let us celebrate each other.)

Wednesday, March 1, 2017


We hear the thunder of a brewing storm
The atmosphere's electricity strikes
At our hope for a sunny day
One so bright, we squint our joyful eyes

But today light filters through dark clouds
Creating a shaded illumination
Allowing our wide open eyes to see 
Beauty mixing with wilted love
This is truth

That brewing storm is so loud 
Unlike the silence that preceded
Thunder - a warning of impending clash
Siren of potential destruction

It's frightening 
We know
The way of nature's convulsions
Still, we hope 
for dissipation of those dark, angry clouds
While we muster up courage
To confront a deluge

(For Poets United.)

Wednesday, February 22, 2017


In my house
There are boxes full of  pictures
Next to an old rocking chair in a room 
Covered with the dust of death.

One day I'm going to sit
In that mausoleum room
Rock myself to comfort
While I look at those pictures,
An attempt at life preserved.
I remember how I cried
The last time I disturbed that dust.
How its mist floated in air,
A moment of resurrection. 

I'll cry in that room
When I find the courage again
To juxtapose life and death.
While I mourn, delighting in sadness/gladness
I'll inhale tiny particles of death's dust
As the mist settles to rest.

Sunday, February 19, 2017


I envy Leroy
He sticks to basics.
Eating, walking, pooping, playing,
Allowing his self-love to manifest
As love for me.
The simplicity of his being
Gifts me with joy.

But he is unaware of my complexity
Or how there's an invisible thread
That connects him to me.
Making him happy, excited or sad
Depending on where I am
On the spectrum of my feelings.
So often, he is my reflection

Leroy doesn't realize 
there's a multitude of threads woven
In this tapestry called love.
He is unaware that he and I are sad now,
Not because I'm hurt,
But because my daughter is suffering.
Her pain travels to my heart
Through that strong tether
That makes me feel what she feels.

I guess I'm actually a lot like Leroy.
Perhaps, there's no need for envy.

(My daughter is waiting for a date to undergo some serious back surgery.  Ironically, my husband just recently recovered from back surgery.  An infection caused him a lot of pain and long hospitalization.  My daughter's surgery is going to be more intense.  She is now in lots of pain and is scared.  Of course, I suffer with her.  I know poems should not be explained.  But I'm nervous and wrote this quickly so I feared it may not make any sense.  Still, just wanted to join in today.)  

(For Poets United.)