I’ve been gently gathering Bits and bobs of beauty Aspects of our being That have fallen away Storms have come and gone Wreckage turned to rapture By love’s abiding hands In tandem with the great ones   © 2023 Gail…

To know the spirit of Violet Is to appreciate how she shows up Here and there Seeded by magic Understated yet gutsy With a little something to say, or a lot Depending on your willngness to listen A fist-full for…

If true love had worn braces There’d be a lot more smiling faces. For every Barbie there’s a Ken, For perfect breasts there’s easy men. The overbite that marred my grin Was proof against a facile win. But I found…

In a soul winter’s night emerges desire (When bleakness is steeped in the dark) For the warmth of a heart to kindle a fire Of caring, if only a spark. Four prayers, four blessings I ask To brighten an inner…

Rumblings of something coming Stream through subtle senses Sly hints Warm flickers Understood without thought or word Hushed knowing Willingness to listen And be changed Deep breath And pause And trust Ever more.   © 2022 Gail Barrie

Dear Morning Glory, tell us a story Of the preciousness of being From seed to vine, to flower shine You open all to seeing How the vibrant wow, of this moment now Is so beautiful and freeing © 2022 Gail…

Behind a CR-V on I-80: Denver still lies ahead. My eardrums hum with John Denver And I sing along with Phil, Filled with memories, Life entwined with life. The prairie sails by. Phil is an earthbound sailor At the wheel…

What a holiday visit it was In COVID’s shadow When son, grandsons, daughter Spilled their unmasked energy and laughter All over our condo. It was so gonzo. A winter’s night walk Sprinkled twinkling pied lights Of neighbors’ Christmas elves All…

Drifting through a fertile darkness Shimmers of luminous hope making way To unknown vistas of imaginal encounters Willing to be taken by Beauty’s whim By the continuity of light and color and sound To spaces and places that exist beyond…

In these COVID days They call it breakthrough infection. Ah, a dark way to open a poem. But wait. As if emerging, Emerging from a deep retreat, I find a better breakthrough The color of air, and no mirage. I…