Tuesday, March 27, 2012


With the feeling of Spring in the air, my thoughts are about gardening. Tilling the soil, planting the seed, nurturing, hands in the earth. The smell of fresh turned soil brings thoughts of all the possibilities presenting themselves into my life. Hope is abundant, the sun on my face and I am excited by the prospect of new adventures.


Freshly plowed earth
awaits, untapped
potential of seed.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Sense of Place

Stagnant dead space within,
darkened hollows between,
where the concrete wears thin,
leaves us nothing for dreams.

Darkened hollows between,
dusty wallpapered rooms,
leaves us nothing for dreams,
frail debris now entombed.

Dusty wallpapered rooms,
what remains can't be taken,
frail debris now entombed,
brittle bones left forsaken.

What remains can't be taken,
sung prayers sweetly taunt,
brittle bones left forsaken,
hearth and stone echoes haunt.

Sung prayers sweetly taunt,
where the concrete wears thin,
hearth and stone echoes haunt,
stagnant dead space within.