Poem: Avonlea

Five monarchs flutter in a row--They’re grace on wings,And as they go,Time stops. Am I in Avonlea?Though Avonlea has never seenFive monarchs in a row! They make no sound to my own ear,Yet my heart makes outMusic here.Five monarchs make a chord of light.It will ring clear into the night.What dark have I to fear!

To Whom It May Concern

Let it be said of meThat my words wadedWhere the wavesDevour, Intent on saving youFor a new Day,For it was notYour Hour. I don’t believeI will meet you;I shall not KnowWho you are, Yet my words,Relentless, found you,Be it near or far. For those who found my work long aft I’ve faded like a flower, … Continue reading To Whom It May Concern


Let it be said of me,“She was open, like a book.”& like a book,Some people can’t get muchFurther than page 1.I am a poem-volumeAmidst documents of war;The thrill explorers felt asTheir schooners left the shore. One day I’ll be a Favorite BookRead ‘neath the setting sun.For now, I’ll stay true to myselfAnd whisper my page … Continue reading Prologue

Dwelling-Place of Storm

I am a poet, Keeper of flowers Dwelling-place of storm. My emotions Manifest in Terrifying form. I can destroy you With my words, Feeling no remorse, Or I can calm you, Fighting battles For you at the source. I’ve learned there is No middle ground: Believe me, I tried. I am a dwelling-place Of storm; … Continue reading Dwelling-Place of Storm

Hundred-Acre Grave

Yesterday, the blue and gray Skies rolling overhead, Sighing, seemed to me to say The rivers had turned red. Treading gentle on the grass, I sought peace but found none. April, she had come to pass, Her faithful weeping done. Musical, the ancient trees Groaned with the bluegray sky. Their duet, a mournful sound, Spoke … Continue reading Hundred-Acre Grave