The blonde fairy princess glides across the room

Ever searching for what precious, unclaimed gems may be spotted

Olivia, her mother calls, time for bed

Olivia smiles but stays on her hunt, there is much to discover tonight

And it’s too early for bed.

Copyright 2007

I do not handle well

My life in constant motion

No ground beneath my tired wings

I so yearn for steely foundation

And dust covered shelves marking stay

Yes I yearn for a home, a permanent residence

Our name upon the mailbox

But I am not so foolish as to sell my soul to wayward sand

Or long-term borrowed residence.

Copyright 2010

Oh to fall in love again

To write with passionate prose

The verses dancing in my head

Their beauty to expose

I exist, short for words

Where once so awe-inspired

My poetic soul now on the mend

Emotions…false-start, FIRE!

Still struggling with each breath

Digging to find depth

I free my passion deep within

My captivity at an end

Once locked behind a steadfast door

The words I feared were no more

Are syllables racing down my pen

And I, I am in love once again!

 Original Copyright 2007

To face fears of long ago

With each word I must profess

I want so much to write

That which may be of a delight

Yet my thoughts are dark

Unseemly implications spark

My controversy within

I say out loud, “It’s not a sin!”

To reveal my deepest emotions

I have no hidden motives

My meaning is inspired

By the muck and the mire

Of where I’ve been and what I’ve learned

In retrospective my past discerned

And so in darkness I proceed

To uncover memories still afresh

Where my innocent heart did once bleed

The crimson flow of childhood unhappiness.

Copyright 2014

Though rusty, I have found my voice!

No fear of ridicule, free from assassination

I write and sing to my hearts desire

The crypt is open, the walls broken,

The freshest air ever breathed surrounds me

The bluest sky overwhelms me

I cry the tears long kept hidden, my soul refusing to be broken,

The crypt keeper is dead, long gone, vaguely remembered, better forgotten,

She was a lost soul, better left in her royal splendor.

My soul surging within me takes flight to the heavens

It cannot be contained any longer

The wicked witch is dead and I…

I am ALIVE!!!

Copyright 2007

We had a fight

We never fight

It was about a sofa

No, not really

Though you didn’t say

It was about money

Funds are tight

Our worlds are drifting

I have my writing

And you,

You’re scraping a living

I love you my husband,

I always have

But when you jerked away

I’m done

You go your way

I’ll go mine

And maybe some day

Your light will shine

And you’ll be happy

Without me

Making a living

Copyright 2009

The resolve of quiet tear soaked sheets

Does not the ache of painful memories ease

My mind wanders restlessly

Toward years long gone decisions made turned erroneously

How I wish I could undo what once was done

I long to hold you in my arms and erase the scars you carry

The past I cannot change and the guilt forever lies on my heart

If what was is no more than why does it haunt me so?

Perhaps it is only myself that must be forgiven by this weary vessel self-condemned

And so I lay me down upon this shallow grave where once I buried the past

And with sincerest voice I forgive the woman I once was

For her heart was true though her aim was warped by what she could not control.

Hip, hop, here I go

From this spot,

My mind a mass

Of required tasks

But I must write

Not for delight

But simply because

It’s required

Every day

In any way

Pen to hand

Is the demand

If I am to make

“This piece of cake?”

Make money

My bills a wait

For heaven’s sake!

So off I go

No, not to and fro!

But to my laptop

Oh what a sop

I am to write this mire

My goal today?

I must not stray

To finish work inspired

Goodbye my friends

This poem now ends

I had to say “goodbye” today, you said it once before

To me when we were young and I was not your type

Or so it seemed…

And now you say you were shy and unsure and I was so

Much more than you ever thought you could have,

That’s not the you I remember.

But now I think the you I know is too quick with words

That you think I want to hear.

Alarm bells have sounded and now I must go for the you

I now know is not the you I once knew and I wonder

Did I ever really know you at all?

Copyright 2010