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Children In Mourning





Virgin shrouds
Mourning wombs
Innocence cut short
Parents' lap
Empty broken
Shoulders weary
Eyes weighed
Bullets strayed
Nameless assail
Hopes frail.

When bombs fly
And sirens cry
Children cannot defy
They wonder if they 
Will live to see
Another dawn
Play and run all day long
And they wonder 
What the fighting is all about?
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Danseuse

Waltzing through air, this vision with beguiling delicate grace
Like a danseuse figure, poised, carving delicate grace.

A breeze gently embraces this fragile creature
touching nimble limbs, a limber accentuating delicate grace.

Sunlight streams iridescent on her lissome stance
symmetrically lithe and supple, flaunting delicate grace.

Rhythmic movements pattern fawn colored sand creations
nudging grass beneath, with a soothing delicate grace.

The boundless energy of this dainty, flighty antelope
as she ambulates gracefully, epitomizing, delicate grace.

Elusive, mysterious, uninhibited, she basks in nature’s fold
within a cosmos, spangled with, pleasing, delicate grace.

Her vulnerability fills me with foreboding and much fear
of bloodthirsty predators, massacring delicate grace.

Finding The Rhyme

FeaturedFinding The Rhyme
I send my words into the sky
Watch them rhyme and then fly.

I close my eyes and feel the air
Forgotten words lost without care.

I take the letters in my hand
And put them on a poetic stand.

I scribe the words on a starlit scroll
Watch words take shape as night unfolds.

My dreams drift from a soul that bleeds
In the blue of ink, fractured lines freed.

I run my hands over my words
My fingers feel the emotions stirred.

With tender ease, the poetry glides
From my page to your eyes.
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Moonchild

I am a child of the earth
Raised by the stars in the sky
Tended by the moon as I sleep
Scars of the world clothe me
Her wounds rich in history.

I am bathed by the tears of the clouds
When it rains, the wind howls-in my ears
Apocalyptic....
When I cry-the earth soaks up my tears
A piece of my soul
Turning to dust;
And like dust, I rise
A storm of stardust
On moonstruck madness..

The sky calls out my name at dawn
Sparking the sun on my breast..

I am a child of the earth
The darkness and the light
The truth, the lie
Sorrow and joy
It's all there in the
Pen that I wield.


#free verse
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Poet And Muse

I write from my soul to yours
I undress my heart to show you my scars.

Crimson-tinged words need no pages
Scattering into synapse spaces.

The pain spills as blood blue ink
Dipped in the inkwell of syllabic sync.

Hold my words close to your heart
They are my soul's oxygen chart.

I am a poet who paints with her pen
To frame my page with your name again and again.

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Magnolia Reveries

Alphabets become jeweled figurines
Like studded stars drip-dropping
Sparkling confetti on a magnolia vignette…
I sit in quiet solitude breathing in the solace of sepia memories…crocheting a borealis in my solstice day
Syllables of Monet hues flame
A potpourri of poesies
Galaxy’s champagne
Serenades my rosette fire
Kaleidoscopic eloquence
Needling a mantle of chrome waltzes
A phonographic euphoria
Etching a musky interlude
Of shared tears
Radiating scarlet of an Amaryllis quill…

Featured

Magnolia Reveries

Alphabets become jeweled figurines
Like studded stars drip-dropping
Sparkling confetti on a magnolia vignette...
I sit in quiet solitude breathing in the solace of sepia memories...crocheting a borealis in my solstice day
Syllables of Monet hues flame
A potpourri of poesies
Galaxy's champagne
Serenades my rosette fire
Kaleidoscopic eloquence
Needling a mantle of chrome waltzes
A phonographic euphoria
Etching a musky interlude
Of shared tears
Radiating scarlet of an Amaryllis quill...

Featured

Along Came A Spider

Along came a spider
An eight legged rider.

In her web, I espied a fly
Other insects came to say goodbye.

The spider's sting operation
Causing pain sensation.

Spidey's silken seduction
Makes no cause for affection.

An intrepid with her labyrinth
Her stealth is her fingerprint.

She never trips in her net
Her web is her bayonet.

She walks and stalks a silky trail
Rigging a web to catch the frail.

Spiders are seen and never heard
They wield a most unlikely sword.
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Poetry: The perfect noun

If I had wings to fly
I would go to the scarlet moon
On the wings of a diamond night
Trying to live again
Because the poet in me cannot die
I would go in search of my muse
I would go in search of eternity..

Under an ancient sky 
That spills the sun in my hair
Wildflowers in my eyes
Poetry on my lips
When the wind sings on my skin
Broken heartstrings kindle a lilt
Clouds weep into the blue
My soul goes sleepless
As the moon and sun wake together
Feeding my soul with ink
In a silence that goes ballistic
A quill that needs to be tranquilized
I idolize thoughts that spring
From poetry..
My mind stops hurting
I crash my hourglass..

I Wandered Lonely As A Leaf

The wind flew me high up in the air
I could see clouds all white and fair.

I was a tiny leaf that took the fall
Autumn had made me brown and small.

I missed being on that great oak
I think I was on that branch that broke.

Then I fell into a gurgling brook
Got caught in a little nook.

There used to be spring in my leafy step
Summer’s ardour is now at a low ebb.

I am no longer a leaf that is green and spry
I miss gazing at the great turquoise sky.

Dear people, know that leaves are the many reasons
For all of these happening seasons.

A Falling Star

I am a falling star fading into 
a wish lost in aether
all that remains of me
is stardust carried by a zephyr
luminescence flickers through me
weightless like a falling star
I drift into reverie…..

Celestial

One night I chanced upon the Milky Way 
To trod heaven’s superhighway
It was a celestial sight
Astral bright
Luminous Orion
Darkness enliven
A beautiful moon enticed
The tides to sway
constellations array
Big Dipper rides
Empyrean enshrined
Like a flame thrower
Starry power
Etches a vignette
Shining croquette
Cosmic enigma
Celestial charisma


I walk the darkness a celestial traveller
My feet meander beneath the sparkling sky
In the amber glow of falling eventide
The night comes softly on moonflowers
The wind touches me gently
Coming from the universe’s inside
Wrapping me in nectar sweetness.

Thunderstorm

thunderstorm-
the sound of rain
on the sea
foghorn lights up
tides curve the
lighthouse path

rain swings over earth
going into the soil
nourishing, awakening
to push touch roots to blossom
taking and making into creation

a silver fountain of
vanilla constellations
waltz out of sight

I dream in a rainy sky.

On The Cutting Board

Said the cutting board to the knife 
When you do your chop chop
All the veggies go drop drop
Cut up to be curried
In no way hurried
Steamed, stir fried
Pickled or dried
All nutrients supplied
On farmers relied
When the sky opened up cried
The soil that crumbled n died
lived and freshened and happily sighed

When the veggies went under the knife
to be skinned and chopped
they became a gourmet delight
making digestion alright.