Let us walk, along the mountain coast under clouds light as springtime air. There are no cares from the pouring rain that soak our way. Skies of denim blue nudged by the sea’s wind remind us to leave behind heartache and hurdle. I take your laughter and weave it with mine as the sun warms … Continue reading A Walk with the Clouds
The Workbench After the burial, I walk up to the old white clapboard house and peer with cupped hands into a cobwebbed cellar window. Inside the dank and musty interior, I see my grandfather’s once vital workbench ghostlike, scarcely lit by streaks of powdered April sunshine. His step stool once too big for me, seems … Continue reading The Workbench
I am greeting September with a quiet poem for my readers. The bustle of summer is now past. Here in Colorado our mornings begin with chilled autumn like temperatures. Spots of orange are appearing on the scrub oak and the aspens are tinged with golden on their tips of their leaves. So now make a … Continue reading
August brings forth the winding down of summer days and nights. Soon Nature's landscape will begin slow quiet changes often without notice. Before the calendar rolls in September, I give you a poem of quiet summer reflection. A moment in time when evening settles in and memories are held dear..... Midnight slips out of … Continue reading Giving the Beach Back to the Tourists
It’s time to become acquainted with a new season and embrace a limitless horizon, vast and mysterious. No longer desiring to be held back, a long silence stirs awake. My life map unfolds; a new journey begins… revealing new dreams with the same heart.
Before February gets by us, I want to share this poem about a moment in time filled with an enduring memory. As the snows falls and the wind blusters by, a woman with her warm comforts of tea and a charming music box from Germany fills her afternoon... Each February I remember the fragile note,kept … Continue reading I Stop the Questioning
The Wedding Ring Quilt This morning, the first snow of spring fell like a curtain of lace across the mountains spilling leftovers of winter down into the stunted pine brushed valley. The touch of your smile held the warmth of weathered hands; eyes of silver and sage glistened when I said, “I hope it snows … Continue reading The Wedding Ring Quilt