poetry & things


At the day’s end

Windows never see me, looking through

stairways never lead me to

all the places outside

at the day’s end

looking in

Blue day of sun rays will shine

stars beam, yellow moon streams

make drowsy eyes dream


glide through fragrant cedar trees

starlit, past the silence

to a place of dream


I could no longer see the sky, stars all blackly veiled, senses numbed

in the gathering storm, a smokey room void of living breath

choked the night air, gasping

consternation of a dark wilderness

a sad vanishing note, played


Trappings of time

It’s like an Arctic wind, a bitter cold hovering

piercing, icy lunged we breathe the hollows in

A dense fog surrounding time, trapping

moments like hours, waiting the days like years

spilling over one another, waiting like a flower

to open in the sun.

Swallowed by time

I came to know that all is borrowed,

even time

One day I bought a property, thinking it mine

as if I could somehow claim it – that which is truly wild,

perhaps appears temporarily tamed

shall one day be reclaimed,

swallowed by time

no memory,

no name


Winds cannot whittle away this morning, blowing through my waking window

sweet, they only sing me from sleep and bring to me, birds I’ve heard in other dreamy dawns.

Joyful, thinking of friends to meet, along the streets or on soft summer lawns,

watching – like a magic trick, waiting for surprise,

now orange, pink, red upon my bed,

a world of dazzling skies!

Scented skies

She said it was wisteria, florets draped

framing her windows

vines climbed overreaching the rooftop

swallows flew by, just before night skies

twilight flashed orange, pink in lavender blues

fading into black

a vision soon of sparkling

starry moon

jasmine flowers to float upon

evening’s scented pond

Path of violets

In sunshine or in shadow how rich the loamy soil

light of earth, dream of rebirth greening

lilac buds and bluebells ring

magenta hills, aubretia spring

of burning fire

A mossy path of violets, soft my feet to wander

muscari blue the garden dew

birds to drink of leafy puddles

bluest skies go grey, drifts so swift a rain cloud by

to water quick the daffodil, silk umbrellas yellow

and comes alas the greening grass

robins hopping, weaving

Spring unfurls in flowery births

tiny violets upon the earth


She was speaking

butterflies floated from her lips

fragile wings

caressed your mind

together, entwined

you flew

fragrant petals were her pillow

a scented garden filled your room

you were dreaming,

roses soft, laid

upon your bed

a morning of golden sun

compassion, salvation

of sacred dawn

they were barren

void of masks

becoming utterly



There are moments, sacred places

where the heart dwells beyond words, no language

only silence, brilliance of clarity shines through the vastness of time

connection to the divine, so soon the mind

will flicker and change, thoughts blow away

nothing will remain

Crow medicine

Dark, brooding storm swirling overhead

clouds, charcoal black looming

dagger piercing eyes in greyest skies

feathers fly in pelting rains

be not afraid, ’tis but

a losing game

The deeper dream

I could only see with dreaming eyes a place so vast within

impossible waters to cross, if only to fly to other side

blue water to turn to ice, and full of joy

I could go skating by, twirling to the sky

when all the meadow flowers would fully bloom

and turn to starry showers

of petals raining

in my room

Summer willows

Oh green I sing, of wings and birds across blue morning sky

with summer sounds, willows round the floating pond

dipping gently by.

Warm winds play music soft

through leaves and reeds, they sing

gathering in the transient breeze.

Under leafy trees of sunlight and shadows

all the day I rest my head

breathe sweet the flowering fields

never shall I leave this place

nor want for any sweeter heaven.

Summer storm

The hills tumbling, daisy stemmed, a floating sea of wild flowers,

white petaled, beaches and waves in rolling summer meadows.

Clouds come, caressing long summer grasses,

blowing sweetly fields, scented warm

before the rain

Thistle crowned flowers cracked, a tiny finch, splitting seeds

swift before the storm, soon flies afar to leafy trees

awaits again the golden summer

of the sun

Summer (reflection on days)

Over the rooftops, windows and treetops – came sun

summer magenta, morning of skies will come.

Singing in silvery shadows, hummingbird drinking in penstemons

a day dappled in sun and sun, til evening late in brightest moon to light this earthly dome.

All the yesterdays sailing on, beyond the dark and stars.

How fast and far to roam, all the days

that come and come.

Ode to 50,000 Bees killed in Oregon

Today all the linden trees shrouded in black, no flowers only death, so quiet crept

killing summer bees, that can no longer sing – of honey flowers afield

death crying at the door, their silence praying to be heard

and still unthinking man poisons our fragile world

Northern summer

Pillow, soft nest of dreams, she slept upon

gorgeous birds embroidered flew

across lakes, blue water fields

swells of seas break, calling swans home

willowy winds sigh, whispers, feathers fly

willow tree shadows alight her slumbering walls

as northern summer fades to Fall

this is an older poem. revised

Early in the morning

So early in the morning, bluest skies of birdsong

they sang like laughter, singing for summer, the dawn

flying to heaven, making their way toward home

Awakened from dreaming, wings unfolding, reach out for love

early in the morning with the sun.

Waiting, gazing into a silent green lily pond

no words, no secrets, only seeking reflection deep within

early in the morning with the sun.


Days were like honey, even sweeter than golden suns

you were laughing in rainbows – colorfully ever undone

dancing in meadows, and mornings

to bloom again

Your eyes of silver spun light, did shine

flashes of soul, glowing pieces of amber nights

Voices of angels sang you to sleep in peace

Remembering all the places you’ve ever felt love

with letters in boxes you’ve looked upon

Days are just pages, they burn into ashes that blow in the wind

all of these days, where do they

begin and end?


I cannot remember, only I can feel the empty chill of steel

sometimes, colored ghosts of autumn whisper in the shadows

that I follow, to take me far from home

Today with sun or clouds and all the bluest skies

a truth revealed, and I awakened to a madness of lakes and rivers,

spilling over – to flood, a place


So swift the night will come, soon to leave this home

darkness winds a long road on

and still the sun will come


From the high cliffs a rugged landscape swept, dropping to the sea

windy clouds, gray rain soaking tiny flowers, waiting for the sun

smokey town so far off, walking farther on

A weathered, rocky place high above this world, climbs a path to stars

with twinkling eyes of sky, where night collides with sea

a traveler, seeking refuge from the shallows

rests her head, soft upon a grassy pillow

A warm wind to caress, sails away the day

drifts quietly her dreams – slipping underwater

where seaweed clings, to pearly rings of sleepy siren’s bells

in echoing shells no darkness dwells

in the heart of forgiveness

The sparkling woods (children’s)

When after stars burn out, with glowing dust falling far to earth

colored sparks and charges mingle in the trees

forest faeries come to gather tiny stars

from green summer leaves

With jars of light, they taking flight

little lanterns flitting through the woods

sprinkling starry heavens

Before the dawn they’ve

traveled long, blanketing the forest

now hide from sight they must

their wooded world born anew

sparkling with stardust

The hills at Eagle river

In summer, a valley so green, thick in veridian

a pond looking on, sits atop the world – waiting for no one

The sun through an open window, so soon to be gone

hills above, some days ago

covered in whitest snow

Summer oaks

A stand of oaks, ringing round in summer leaves of grassy greens

twisty branches quivering light in wind’s of dusky breeze

Beyond this sky of crimson day, far awaits a starry field to bloom

and melts the sun into black

swift before the moon

Notes on Nature

It was a lilac day, a dream of scented heaven

what world sings of this blue, green summer?

Early morning raindrops splash giant maples,

droplets of sun, above far hills

alighting flowering fields, with flashing wings

of tiny sparrows

Cormorant swoops, the falling sky, far beyond

clouds of pink edge the bluest sky

silvery fish, below in cooling waves

blue herons stalk long where

seaweed sways

Sunlight poured, warming mossy woods

tallest trees breathing steam – spectrally

lichen blooms, tiny flowers in the sun

before the dawn of washing rain

a silent ancient forest

Her gallery

Paintings, closets buried deep – she cannot escape

rustic paint peels from long forgotten faces

in faded works, her tears of tattered pages

that silent sleep, with wings they weep

and long to fly, far from

lonesome cages

When the sun sinks low

After some desolate years, a strange reign came

and played your voice of cello tones deeply wild

a resonance, I drank – my soul to follow

when my feet could no longer walk

fast my heartbeat swallowed

songs of you, haunted


With chords that played silvery golds

in silken threads we wove

dreams and days of sun

that followed

Now sinks the sun dark below

and finds a place, a home

built for no one


Moon winds pretend to know me

clouds steal the sky away

never knowing my name

Remove the veil

what game

night stars


Tears and stars

The sun sprung from blackest clouds

tears and stars were raining, little meteors

red before the dawn

I seek to sing asleep

troubles, phantoms deep

my sleepy ghosts still awake

have stayed much too late


Rain you came splashing all the morning

awakened, still dreamy on my pillow

you wash my days away

with peace you came

after the storm, listening for birds

silence in this world

Little ships

Soon came horizontal rain, leaving green music

willowy fingers played the Spring, white explosion

dogwoods on the lawn, to sail salt rivers of ocean

blossomy boats, float puddles

petals returning home


In your tiny room, of paper flowered blue

with stains – brown rains the wall

a picture of light shining, eyes golden through

watched over, long nights – of dreams and moon

a restless ghost will follow

leave you deeply hollow

in your home

Morning ferns, no words to speak aloud

no language, only fragrant mossy earth

Oxalis a blanket, the hour blooms white

with lilies of perfection

dreams linger real

and never forget

Full and hollow

For me it is full and hollow, rings of tree

seas of dream, waves awash my sleepy meadow

skies will sing, nights will go

music, deepest dark of cello

and when will come – the sun?

I wait, the day that it will shine

once again for me

Cold desert (10w)

Why must our love, a desert be?

– Kisses a mirage

Child’s fire

Then, I think when I was young I didn’t stop to ponder

I only gathered days of sun and flowers

little feet to stomp the street puddles

splashing me homeward or popsicles

my tiny toes, to warm again

my love like a fire.

Villa Park

Thinking back there was that time,

days when the sun shined – just for you

You took the long way

and peddled through the puddles

Green road – a tunnel of maples, undercover

letting go, no hands

Youth’s fearless reign

of summer

Raven clan

Lush cow parsnip lined the disappearing path

rain came, with cooling mists kissing lupine flowers

A sacred land the path’s end – ruins of Haida totems

born of ocean, emerging man

of shells and sand

earth and air

clan of the


Moon tide

When at night green seas touch the moon

pulling toward the shore, shiny creatures crawl the sands

in shells of watery homes, soon to drift away

swaying seaweed clings to metal rings of wooden boats and oars

Moon tides, ever pushing, pulling

transient sandy shores, and sings the light to follow

worlds emerge from dark of night, water filling up

the hollows

Moon of wind and flowers

The warmth of day lingered on, shadows played a sweeping sun

grassy swallows swooped, grey dusky light

colors of day, drank away the meadow

in skies of yellow, blue

Wind of wild roses, a thicket swirled sweet the night

flower petaled breezes swept the air

in fragrant fields of dream,

beneath the moon

Mantra song

I walked the wooded path, remembering

sunlight flitted about the trees of early spring

I could taste the smokey woods, steaming in the sun

a fragrant dawn, a lily fawn hidden by the flowers

still as winter’s pond

When little was left of looping thoughts and troubles

silence was a river bright and swift, floating as a feather

and I could not remember, but a song playing

softly over

“go out in the morning now,

a crown of maple leaves, a crown of flowers

circling your sweet head”

a mantra

pulled me in – forever

and there, I lived on

(Quote taken from the Innocence mission song)

Last light (haiku)

amber jeweled room

mountain mist of curtain lifts

sunlight drinks the day

If love be a fire unfolding

Cool moss of spring so live in verdant green,

with cherry flowers – petals falling

our footsteps pressing in

dissolve the snowy lands

in the heart of sun

love, born of fire


The greening path

Stepping stones

wet twigs mossy overgrown

footfalls, rain washing the greening path home

grassy droplets, little trickles running

puddles fill the pothole road

clouds break, parting dusk of day

tiny violets sunning

Sweet the air

Tiny flowers, songs in violet shades played, ringing round oaks

spilling on the mossy lawn

Songs of birds swirled sweet the air

and flew the cold of winter’s caging, gone the snowdrops melting

Sunny – yellow willow, ever graceful

flowing breezy, leafy vines

sing soft of life, sweet the air

of your budding time

Tomorrow’s path of hyacinth will bloom

to light the days, sweeping fragrantly all the hours of moon

tulips of apeldoorn bursting red, in a field of Spring, how sweet the air

soon far off in scented hills of green

Nature speak

Now soon the hills and days go green in flowering fields

sweet will sing, black red wings amidst the grassy reeds

silent lily pond no more to keep winter’s secrets in

lotus blossom opens your eyes

the center, your heart



Hawk hunting in the grey, last light

sliced the evening air

talons locking swift

two birds falling

black of night,

breathes death

to rise – calling

ever endless as



Blue lake of iridescent dawn

soft foggy swan, silent watery sun

mourning breeze of graceful wings

soon flies the fog and too the bonny swan

to see below with clarity

gray smokey bank


Walk close the seasons

Walk close the seasons, near the heart

summer fields, grasses green – tall to hide behind, the coming winter

only laugh as dancing maples change, piled high – leaves on fire

Winds of gray waves fill the air

children skate

frozen ponds give way

to spring – the ice

to trickle

Truffle-O’s! (excerpt from children’s story)

A merry forest pig was he

he woke up very early and hunted until three

snorting, sniffing, the air he’s whiffing

never is he ruffled, only focused on his truffles

He goes rump rumping

grunt, grunting for truffle-O’s!

Wild he runs and trots the greeny forest

with a jolly jig he wriggles and digs

his cloven hooves moving dirt like lightening

hunt, hunting for truffle-O’s!

When at last he finds his gourmet morsels

a squeal is heard and fly the birds

clear from the forest, a happy hog

a squealing song of treasures found, his beloved


Salt rain

Ocean – lilting azure waves

sway of moon, clouds to hide before the tide

night touching blue – the earth and sky

caressing light – the darkest sea

only a moment

only salt rain

Ode to Hawaii

Tears – blue water waves rolling in

rain falling sweeping cross my face

winds of palms waving

I fly away

Night and summer

It came soft the dusk across your face,

glowing rosy pink

A setting sea that drank the day

with silence wildly

Your eyes became the outer lands

and sang the night of summer

Soft as sand a bed of grassy meadow

our hearts to bloom fragrantly

open as a flower

My home has no walls

My home has no walls

My home has no walls to look upon

no roof to stave off wild beasts or tame the restless seas

no window glass, so clear my days to gaze

A soul to dwell in mystery

so soon my days to fly away

yet stand the oaks of long ago

watching children play

Morning wore a robe of clouded sun

rain washed the day away, til broke the sun again

hidden in a thicket brush sang a tiny bird

sweet songs to light the darkness

from this world

Mr. Brascia (haiku)

He had many cars

and slept sad each night alone

he drove love away

Lost Barrio

Polished stone, bare boned- rafters loomed above

silent owls swooped, black before the dawn

red wood carved with sorrow’s blood

masks to hide behind – some never found

So swift to pass upon the earth

ashes, silence underground

Diego painted the Santa Catalina’s

mountains now hung upon a wall

have found him glorious

in the lost barrio

Kilauea reign (haiku)

Black fields – burning sun

fiery cauldron stirring

lava soaking earth

Honu sea (haiku)

Viridian green

undersea sentient being

turtle touching me

Born of green

Today the sun was not found

only rain amid the meadows

Thistle grew, poking through

clouds – til black of nightfall

Dark wingless bird, shadow of stillness

quiet as stars, so long ago forgiveness

and will it come, soon the dawn,

a day to breathe deeply lunged

or fly away my days born of green

ancient as a forest?


Wind shadows blow swift

cool smokey air lifts

clouds of dream, adrift

that come and go

Iridescent wings, sing

crows of summer

a murder in winter,

a frozen mirror,

melting in


Emerging greens, soiled leaves

grow skyward

to the sun

Blossomy buds have sprung

with fallen petals on the ground

fading into earth

changing forms

that can’t be


The wild unknown

Fast her wild days ran tall as forest foxglove,

long the happy sun of wing full prayers and beating drums

grassy knees ripening green on summer’s lawn

honeycombed hideouts of laughing stings and bees

running long through wild meadows

pale of butter’s milky cream

a child’s face soft as flower petals

so quick to bud into full bloom

blushing in her rosy days

a swan soon flies to the wild unknown

there where an hourglass looks on

Some birds

Music came singing to the sky

It seemed none could sing or fly so high

maybe some birds

like children’s laughter

a forgotten eternal spring,

a happiness

that comes and goes

forever calling

one home

As if out from a tunnel

the first light deafens silence

wings unfold the soul – whispering

Plain truth in words unspoken

so precious the moments

of being unbroken

So soon the rains come

wet, washing

another path


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