deep rich emerald bouquet

the chaotic shapes compose a visual melody

my eyes are drawn to you

the shadows compliment your rich hues

foliage shapes dance in a rebellious party

thin and flat

skinny and broad

tall and short

The many contrasts are married

bright lilacs rise from the greens

pale whites ring among the stalks

providing sweet feasts to hidden butterflies

and fluttering hummingbirds

thank you for your striking botanic presentation

Me in a poem

Routine Queen; helps me function

Cat lover; his soft snuggles are unconditional

Mom; longed to be; an eye blink later 10 years in

Poetry lover; newly discovered passion

Runner; my way of staying fit and sane

Teacher: longed to be; now 20 years in

Friend; few, but cherished

Writer; didn’t know it was in me until recently bloomed

Sister; few by choice, but cherished

Wife; one of life’s accomplishments: 16 years in

Binger; Netflix, Prime, Hulu, on demand

Daughter; grateful for many gifts

Survivor; breast cancer warrior

Homebody; now being truly challenged


Inspiration from Day 23 SOL challenge





Dear Daughter

Dear Daughter,

Do you know how proud of you I am?

I try to tell you as often as I can.

You’re too humble and insist I stop.

I’d like to shout your honors from the hill tops.

I delighted in all your firsts:

steps, words, smiles, life’s thirsts.

I cheered at your concerts.

We rewarded you with desserts

I look back with boast;

looking onward to all the toasts.

All the heartaches broke me too.

But I had confidence you’d make it through.

Do you understand how proud of you I am ?

I will never stop; no way my little lamb.


Coffee in My Kitchen

I am a prisoner of my daily routine

It pulls me, it drags me, it has a hold over me

Nothing else can be completed to be free

It is my drug to get me going, oh the caffeine

It percolates and grumbles

The aroma permeates my home

My mind awaits it as my eyes roam

Out the window the tree’s branch fumbles

The leaves wave to me through my screen

That first sip will ensure for all the day I am keen


When I gazed into the future,

I held my best friend’s hand tightly

Yet when time caught up, she was a different person.

When I slept over at Nana’s,

Playing bunko

I had no knowledge of bills and deadlines.

They were inevitable.

When I laid in darkness,

The air filled with Channel and Aquanet.

Paul Simon sang, “Get off the bus Gus”

Mom prepared for her night out.

When we married G.I. Joe to Barbie,

We assumed we’d be bound forever.

But it turns out blood is not thicker than water.

The Right Way to Speak?

My words define me

I’m crass to be comedic

Yet I need to survey my community

“Thank you”, “Yes” not “Yeah”

The company I keep leads my words

But laughter is my charm

Sometimes a naughty word spills out,

Sarcasm cuts the air

I am sweet and kind in word

I can speak formal pleasantries

Then when I’m comfortable in my camaraderie,

Churlishness invokes chuckles

In Memoriam

Not best friends, but friends indeed

Your kindness radiated from your smile

Never was your company shadowed in scorn

The kindness of your heart touched me

Others have made the same claim

This is a legacy you leave

to me and your children of many

I wish the last time I saw you

That I would have known

It was the last time I would see you.

I would have told you all of this.

Good bye and rest in peace.


The alarm sounds

I want to ignore it, but I don’t

The coffee pot chimes to me

I can’t ignore, and I don’t

The cold air envelopes my wet body

I want to hide from it, but I don’t

The arctic winds slap my face

I want to give in, but don’t

The commuter train chauffeurs me

I want to run from it, but I don’t

The office houses me for 7 hours

I want to escape it, but I don’t

The chores burden me every night

I want to neglect them, but I don’t

I crawl back into the comfort of my bed

Satisfied I pushed through this day

Ready to do it all again




The Ride Home, a poem

Where do you go to think?

Reminisce, regret, and rejoice?

We ponder adventures and question those not taken.

It’s the place to consider beginnings,

But also judge the finales.

What if’s are asked

Maybe I should’s are questioned

Mental reprises trouble us.

Melodies, choruses, and chatter flow from the speakers.

I enjoy the solitude amongst the four doors.

Often alone, but at times in Company.

The small metal chamber is a necessity,

But oh how I need the therapy of the ride home.

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