The flame upon a candle sits,
its light against the darkness pits.
Its strength the slightest breeze will tax,
and press it low to melted wax.

Persistent flicker 'til the dawn,
when wax is spent and flame is gone.
In this nocturnal vigil kept,
a thousand fears from night are swept.

So are lives like candles lit,
each pushing back the dark a bit.
And when the day arrives at last,
the flame to glowing wick is passed.

''As if she's the only one
I'm the only one to stare.''-she whispers

Ask her and she's about to answer
she likes that, simple conversation
in a cafe ''Silhouette'', the title behind
her back in colorful electricity light

This old violin follows her singing
she finishes the first and the violin
goes on only for a bit more, after,
she's humming her dear melody

LEFT OVERS

Cups, saucers, plates
old and new
forks, knives and spoons
worn and used
pictures of family and friends
objects of art and paintings
reflections of my senses
where do they go when
all things end.
Will they find a place
in someone else's space
or will they be flea market fare.
They were all a part of me
Will anyone see
I am in everything I touched
chose, used, loved.
Who will know and care,

Inspiration,
is the spring board of poetry
I learned it
after decades of digging
in the temples
where poetic Lords reside
the ones like you
happy for you
and
of course
my dear
I thank you

Stan and I once wrote
about our many dawns
we passed together
in the age -less -ness of time,
eternity and poetry

My mind now saturates*
poetically
it's been eons since

(Re-submission, was posted just around the time of Neopoet's website crash)

Feeding her baby
she kisses her good night
thanking the Lord for his blessings
then watches the Moon
from her cold bed
longing for the kisses of her Love

Somewhere in those stars
her knight lies prone
shorn of their love in its bud
bathing her in warmth
with his cascading light
playing on her probing fingers

The ice was etched in perfect form,
Snow drifting like a gossamer gown.
Sky carved from an ebony block so true,
Scattered with diamonds, making black, blue.

A hand held gently within the visions glow.
No matter that it was Ice and snow.
A love kindled, that has always been
Your warmth perfected this scene.

The only thing that random love could do
Was to create perfection for us two
To look in wonder we were lost in time.
With greener grass, just yours and mine

DESIRE

poured into limbre boredom
slippery as clever fox freedom
flip with a careful fingers
the tease of long fresh hair

excaped the drama of a home
not quite a house
the perplexity of a dream
seeped into an urge

the hunting prowl
in the hallowed hall of a mall
t-shirts and books
and hungry looks

winter in its rule
cold pressed and drawn
the new uniform of
revelation and cover
rouge cheeks by north winds
fresh eyes by excitements
challenge

A Parish’s Poorest Tale.. A.P.P.T..

As we gather in the slight chill of night,
to celebrate Christmas in our small town.
Forget the poor people and their plight,
it wasn’t only you or I, who let them down.

God’s churches are selective, he loves you wealthy,
christ’s poor are a different animal don’t you know
Pray ignore their sad tale, they’re perfectly healthy,
without our roof they’d be starving under the snow.

I dreamed of being a good wife
wanted no more than four kids
two girls, two boys in my teenage years.

My life began just as planned
I had two girls, two boys
and a husband by age 30.

After 20 years of sacrificing self
I feel alone and useless
they don't appreciate the sacrifices I've made
or remember them
it's like it never happened.

It's time to say goodbye
it's time to reinvent myself
my life here is done.

IMMORTALITY

Waters icy cold
pure and new
bubbling white and blue
melting mountain snow
into rivers flow
to live again its Spring.
like a soul waking from
Winter's sleep....