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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.
Featured

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..

Bleeding

As I lay bleeding from inside, they walk all over me 
Their footprints locked in my blood’s captivity .

My hands are empty, I have lost all my words
The pages in my book whisper, their screams go unheard.

I can no longer see or feel my dreams
still, my dreams reach out to me , give me self esteem.

Dreams taken from me, lost along the way
I still feel them, I know they won’t betray.

I cling to my quill and feel it’s comfort
when I scribe, my thoughts are comfortably versed.

I will not let the ink dry on my soul
my subconscious hope will always console.

Stargazing – A Pleiades

Sweeping me off my feet
Starry eyed, I gaze at the
Sojourn of lustrous stars
Surfing the empyrean
Saturating air with stardust
Streaking the celestial
Scintillating the nova

Spectacle galactic
Spinning inky aether
Spellbinding gravity
Stringing the Big Dipper
Shimmering Milky Way
Stunning, dazzling me as
Shooting stars wish me well.


# Pleiades

The Poetry Of Me

I undo everything that holds me together 
unravel this ache
my soul’s longing
I inhale and exhale the
ancient fire burning my skin
I bathe in the constellations cosmic energy
to touch the glowing sun
ignite every nerve
to burn the scars in my mind to heal me
my heart a mix of falling tears
dreams take me home like
a flood of thunder
a lightening of rhythm and rhyme
in the chaos of white violets
I embrace me
the timelessness of breathing in the new alive

I write to be reborn
in melting timelines
into arias of sweet nothings
I break and wake to the laws of survival
breathing in luminescent blooms
that trace fragrance of lifelines

poetry terrifies me with its honesty …… I still write anyway

my sky fills with stars ..

Anagrammatic

grammar anima 
maniac rant in a mint tarmac
art racing in an antic act
a gamin cat
a gamin rat
Martian in a train mating a gnat.
I grin!

tic tac tic tac ting ring ting ring
an anagram mantra
aria magic rating a magma
migrant in a tram
cramming a cigar
in a giant gamma arc
tiara in a mart
mic tag in it
rain ramming catamaran
man in tragic gait
carting a cam can maim a nit, a nag in a car
arming a tangram
magnetic grit
carat amarant
Anagrammatic .

Life Is

Many things in life don’t make sense 
if you question life, it takes offense
‘call it fate’ life says in its defence
most times it’s at your sanity’s expense
living life has become a pretence
life throws a curveball nonetheless
you still pick up the pieces and commence
because ‘hope’ is something that life invents
give it time, says life, no more laments
life is something that time represents
like an hourglass in destiny’s events
slipping through one’s fingers, nonetheless
I can’t figure out life, I must confess
maybe I have missed the point of life’s intent.