You carry silver stars in your hair 
I love the feel of your hair on my fingers bare

I see the whole universe in the depth of your eyes 
You leave me breathless, my soul soars to the skies.

Your skin radiant like sunlight on meadow
Where I bask in the warmth of your inherent glow.

Your smile, the charisma of a promise untold
Sparking the air like sparkling gold.

Your voice soft in its gentleness
Falling like whisper upon my skin
Leaving my senses on a roller coaster spin.

Your quill spins a spell
A spelling from the soul
The embrace of imagination
In the creation of poetry.

# Lyric


A poem rises 
From silent words:
Inkwell blue

Words melt 
Out of the quietness;
Drawing the indigo out
In the lifting of quill
The color of words
My home becomes a
Belles-lettres morning-
And a limitless sky

Raw, the virgin stain on my fingers
The curve of the cursive
In the fire of your eyes
The whisper of words
In the soul's keeping.

Finding 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.


Beneath the sky's luminous runway
Enchanted by the shimmering cosmic odyssey
Walking a silver roam that pours amber
Into the crepuscule’s piquant glow
Tip-toeing into rhythms celestial
Captivated by stardust's knitted luster
Heady, this feeling of being transported
Enveloped by the caress of a starlit mist
Delicate, this drenching of a 'forevermore' serenade.


Bloom, December

A flutter
Of carousing birds
Warbling syncopated chorals
While waltzing the foliage through sunlight's radiance
The wind comes alive as butterflies, bees orchestrate aromas of petalled blossoms.
Nestling under the aquamarine, marigolds gleefully bob their golden heads teasing, ruffling the air to a symphony of fragrance.
My universe begins with the Milky Way, my head in cloud nine, between me and the December sky, only the scented zephyr with it's bouquet of blooms, where I inhale the day, watch the birds conducting their musical ensemble.

A Fibonacci poem .
# Fibonacci


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
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

Losing My North Star

Poetry finds me
Holding my grief....stained red
In the hush of loss...the blood that brought me to life
Silence that aches. ...deep
Candling the flame of time that  will not come back.
Like a bruise on my soul
A reddened firelight
In the inside of a teardrop
The unbroken breath of memories
That flow from an old photo album
Eyes fill up
Dissolving in the salt of quiet release.
In the solitude of being
I remember and hold
In the heaven colored stars that shine
Severing a bond
suffering a social distancing
Infinity and beyond
Press pause...fingers of wild loneliness fasten
For a heart stopping moment
Life decides to go away.