She has a shoreline smile Below wheatfield hair, A crescent of white land For shipwrecked hearts. Like a bow, she’ll draw you Over the strings–no matter If you’re in good tune– Until you can hear what she hears That’s sweet…

A visionary in vintage clothing, A hymn’s longing in faded jeans, Rummaging through objets d’art Or searching for stars in empathic eyes Twinkling over facemasks. The tea leaves in my old hiking boots Laugh like Gibraltar itself At such good…

Meringue images, A la mode memories Of safer days Fluff my pillow at moonrise. I made contact with our future Four years ago. Will the knave of hearts Be up to thievery? We are suspended in pandemic, No bowl-of-cherries trance…

How certainly the angels dance! The stretch of possibilities I never fear; I see romance Is candled in a wheel of brass. I practice with a rosy hand The whole of magic in my life. The early arts I toddle…

So much inside that wants to get out, To get out all at once, it seems. How open am I to allow what is wanting to happen? How willing am I to let go, surrender, release, express, unleash? Seems easier…

Look for the Ancients who live among us They carry great wisdom for graceful evolution They take many earthly forms So all may inherit their treasures Listen to the Ancients who care deeply for life They whisper the light of…

Dreaming of a silken shore Where eagerness meets water’s edge And nature takes me to places unknown Wrapped in the allure of softer, brighter moments Take me to a silken shore Beyond well-worn paths of rootless woes And allow the…

your own two feet: i remember how you stood on them through the ill winds of business. i recall you explained to me one night, in your room, about the poor times we were in. i saw the coins on…

Quietly, gently, softly Speak the names of those on your heart Send their souls messages of love Peppered with your touches Every little thought and feeling matters Every little moment can be splendid Quietly, gently, softly Imagine those whose heart…

morning, morning. came the dawn trotting spongy over the mellow turf with dew. and then the warmth raised the mist to sip it and quenched were the night’s dark candle and the morning’s thirst. dancing, dancing. came your love calling…