In Between


My body searches for an in between,
not winter’s gelid wind or summer’s heat
but where birds dip their wings into the gleam
of liquid sun and air is fresh and sweet.
I long for daylight hours and newborn hearts
where buds break free from safety of the womb;
a place where life begins, where journeys start
and fears abate as flowers begin to bloom,
whose joy is so infectious, so sublime,
their small wounds barely touch them, peace abounds
I long to share the passion of this time
spend hours alone imbibing every sound
where I, at last, feel free to breathe, serene.
My body craves this precious in between.




Prayer – (a nonet)



I have recently been introduced to a few different short poetry forms which I am using to help me with my poetry skills and to keep my muse awake when he (yes, he!) starts to yawn. The following one is a nonet.

 A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc… until line nine that finishes with one  syllable.


 Daring to believe in something good,

a presence larger than myself,

I search through myriad thoughts

and stumble upon prayer.

I try it for size;

it seems to fit

very well

so I


Through The Wood

This is a re-post from last year
when I had just arrived on WordPress.
Today is the 8th anniversary of my dad’s death.
I think he would have liked my poems

Through The Wood

I could see through the wood and brass,
his body cold, lifeless.
Seafaring man fighting for country,
raising three children,
ministering prayers.

I search persistently for lost life,
its fullness, its vibrancy.
Maybe it’s in the strange flower
I found in the garden,
the one I know I didn’t plant,
or in the poem that writes itself
seamlessly, despite me.

Life not extinguished – transposed.

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