Archive for the ‘Wings of Poetry’ Category


In dreams

the ocean whispers in my ears

luring me to  horizons I can never quite reach

yet know

that’s where I belong

not on the shores

with washed up debris of yesterday’s discards

just watching

as love dances

in light on the surface of the water

calling me



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The beauty

in being able

to shed

what’s dead

and watch it float away

in  technicolor wonder


a new beginning

is just around the corner

ready to bloom 

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Old photographs lining shelves

give me no insight

as to where I’ve been

and absolutely no indication

of where I am to be

let alone

how to get there

There was a time when it didn’t matter

days were lived

one right after another





as to what it all meant

and dreams

were nothing more than a side effect of sleep

Only after awakening

did the dreams, not of sleep

but of soul


Where is the clarity

the still waters

the guideposts?

The tides are high

and the road tangled

with uncertainty

and doubt

when all I thought I knew once


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passions blush

Where there is breath

there is light

and the love

I have for you


and deepens

in the stillness

where souls



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How some memories

are so soft

you lay your heart on them

to remember

what love was



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Slipping softly

Melting into your embrace

Each breath

draws us closer to a kiss

because who needs words

when time and distance stole them from us

All I need

is to look in your eyes

to translate


what our souls spoke

A tapestry of language

woven with silver threads

that hold us together

even when we are far apart

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How does

the sun protect itself

from scorch

The ocean

not drown

The mist


without becoming lost

The rain


without breaking

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The silent storm


within each raindrop

spilling sorrows upon my skin

Drenching fabric

that clings

to soul

revealing in transparent wonder

the beauty

within the flaws

of what lies beneath

There is no respite

from the rain

for even an umbrella

may shield you from the soak

but not the story

that becomes a song

in a relentless rhythm


one another’s pain

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Six thirteen year olds

held hands

boy girl boy

and waded barefoot

through ankle deep water

hunched over

through the sewer pipe

behind the abandoned house everyone thought was haunted

walking slowly

enjoying the touch

of  electricity

in close proximity

and anticipation

of reaching the clearing

underneath the giant buckeye tree

Several feet up

bright yellow dandelion heads

began to fall

from the  pinhole of light

in the center of the manhole cover

tossed in by Ann

just 6 years old

while singing “Ring  Around the Rosy”

Waiting quietly

for song’s end

without a word

said between us

We began as a low rumble

building to a loud moan

and listened as she ran


back to her house

as we ran


splashing loudly through the  concrete cavern

back to the field

that held cows

behind an electric fence

as the wind

carried our laughter

across every summer


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Somewhere …
perhaps where the breeze ends
or where it begins
a field of wildflowers
rises through parched earth
to bask in the glory
of a sun
without a single cloud
scenting the wind
with colors
calling to those
who struggle
in a wilderness
to see beyond
to a place of transcendence
where gold seeps softly
into the horizon
that dreamers long to touch
and poets dream to know
Take me sweet wind, please
to where the wildflowers… grow

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