Virgin shrouds
Mourning wombs
Innocence cut short
Parents' lap
Empty broken
Shoulders weary
Eyes weighed
Bullets strayed
Nameless assail
Hopes frail.

When bombs fly
And sirens cry
Children cannot defy
They wonder if they 
Will live to see
Another dawn
Play and run all day long
And they wonder 
What the fighting is all about?

Waltzing through air, this vision with beguiling delicate grace
Like a danseuse figure, poised, carving delicate grace.

A breeze gently embraces this fragile creature
touching nimble limbs, a limber accentuating delicate grace.

Sunlight streams iridescent on her lissome stance
symmetrically lithe and supple, flaunting delicate grace.

Rhythmic movements pattern fawn colored sand creations
nudging grass beneath, with a soothing delicate grace.

The boundless energy of this dainty, flighty antelope
as she ambulates gracefully, epitomizing, delicate grace.

Elusive, mysterious, uninhibited, she basks in nature’s fold
within a cosmos, spangled with, pleasing, delicate grace.

Her vulnerability fills me with foreboding and much fear
of bloodthirsty predators, massacring delicate grace.

I am a child of the earth
Raised by the stars in the sky
Tended by the moon as I sleep
Scars of the world clothe me
Her wounds rich in history.

I am bathed by the tears of the clouds
When it rains, the wind howls-in my ears
Apocalyptic....
When I cry-the earth soaks up my tears
A piece of my soul
Turning to dust;
And like dust, I rise
A storm of stardust
On moonstruck madness..

The sky calls out my name at dawn
Sparking the sun on my breast..

I am a child of the earth
The darkness and the light
The truth, the lie
Sorrow and joy
It's all there in the
Pen that I wield.


#free verse

Dear Poets, Writers

Dedicated to you all

You are the indigo riding my mind
The purple wisdom in my bosom
The logic that becomes my instinct
The instinct that pulls my gut
Your priceless ink shapes emerald words
Like blooms woven in the white of paper
You are
The calming in the wild beating of my heart
Adrenaline pulsing my blood stream
The dreams behind my eyelids
The taste of music on my lips as I sing
The songs that still the rising chaos of a thousand pleas
My wired mind magnetized by the sage brilliance 
That nourishes the trust

You perfect the poetry 
You become the poetry
The PoetPerfect.

I write from my soul to yours
I undress my heart to show you my scars.

Crimson-tinged words need no pages
Scattering into synapse spaces.

The pain spills as blood blue ink
Dipped in the inkwell of syllabic sync.

Hold my words close to your heart
They are my soul's oxygen chart.

I am a poet who paints with her pen
To frame my page with your name again and again.

Alphabets become jeweled figurines
Like studded stars drip-dropping
Sparkling confetti on a magnolia vignette…
I sit in quiet solitude breathing in the solace of sepia memories…crocheting a borealis in my solstice day
Syllables of Monet flame
A potpourri of poesies
Galaxy’s champagne
Serenades my rosette fire
Kaleidoscopic eloquence
Needling a mantle of chrome waltzes
A phonographic euphoria
Etching a musky interlude
Of shared tears
Radiating scarlet of an Amaryllis quill…

Alphabets become jeweled figurines
Like studded stars drip-dropping
Sparkling confetti on a magnolia vignette...
I sit in quiet solitude breathing in the solace of sepia memories...crocheting a borealis in my solstice day
Syllables of Monet hues flame
A potpourri of poesies
Galaxy's champagne
Serenades my rosette fire
Kaleidoscopic eloquence
Needling a mantle of chrome waltzes
A phonographic euphoria 
Etching a musky interlude
Of shared tears
Radiating scarlet of an Amaryllis quill...

Along came a spider
An eight legged rider.

In her web, I espied a fly
Other insects came to say goodbye.

The spider's sting operation
Causing pain sensation.

Spidey's silken seduction
Makes no cause for affection.

An intrepid with her labyrinth
Her stealth is her fingerprint.

She never trips in her net
Her web is her bayonet.

She walks and stalks a silky trail
Rigging a web to catch the frail.

Spiders are seen and never heard
They wield a most unlikely sword.

If I had wings to fly
I would go to the scarlet moon
On the wings of a diamond night
Trying to live again
Because the poet in me cannot die
I would go in search of my muse
I would go in search of eternity..

Under an ancient sky 
That spills the sun in my hair
Wildflowers in my eyes
Poetry on my lips
When the wind sings on my skin
Broken heartstrings kindle a lilt
Clouds weep into the blue
My soul goes sleepless
As the moon and sun wake together
Feeding my soul with ink
In a silence that goes ballistic
A quill that needs to be tranquilized
I idolize thoughts that spring
From poetry..
My mind stops hurting
I crash my hourglass..

---

moonbeams dance on my pillow
this unknown summer night
venus blooms like cereus
in an ebony sky
a hushed wind carries 
My dreams to you
I pick up my pen...