I Won’t Leave You


DSCN3834This poem first appeared in Journey On : Beauty and Grit Along the Way published in 2012. It has since undergone revision and will appear in the upcoming poetry collection titled Winter’s Call.


 I Won’t Leave You

You and I have many dusty roads still to walk together,

and blood red sunrises we have not seen

sitting side by side on a quiet beach.

There are many seashells

not picked up; memories not yet made.

We know the hope of a radiant summer morning,

and the deep peace of midnight stars.


We have laughter to remember, tears to brush away;

taking in the scent of rain on the wind and hay in a far off meadow.

In soft December while the snow falls draping the mountains,

we stroll alongside together, you clasping my hand,

as more colors appear…

leaving none behind.

A Walk with the Clouds

DCF 1.0
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 our backs.

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 cup of vanilla almond tea, settle in and read from the Journey On Collection Listening for My Name. I thank you for reading my words.


Listening for My Name

You returned with mysteries forgiven
a gentle cover of darkness surrounded
me with the wonder of anticipation.

You became yourself once more
someone long forgotten, this time promising
never to be lessened by fear again.

Inner stirrings beckoned for you
beneath my hidden need.
And then, you began to give
while I began to take with delicious breath.

Beyond the window pane the rains fell,
the thunder moved in from far off distances.
You gathered me in like fog clinging to a river,
refreshing sleep whispered this gift
as moonlight drifted through brushed away clouds.

In the quiet days and nights of winter to come,
I will turn to you,
and listen for my name.

Journey On

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.



Sun Dancer

From Journey On-a celebration poem for a stretching and dancing in the morning sun:
Sun Dancer

The dawn moon quiets my mysterious wonder
into a deep palette of soft watercolors.
In the concerto of the early morning sun
swinging slowly, twirling in the wind,

I reach to touch the dancing colors
rising within.DSCN2473

Deep Winter, Now Gone

Open Sign in Palmer LakeIt is the first day of National Poetry Month and this blog is declared to be officially open or perhaps I should say “re-open”.  Blog posts have not been made for quite sometime and what a perfect time to re-open Journey On to readers!  Inspiration for this came when I took a photo of the OPEN sign outside The Rock House Ice Cream Shop in my town of Palmer Lake.  What better way to begin a new month, a new commitment to my blog and of all times-April. In honor of this, I will post a poem from my book Journey On: Beauty and Grit Along the Way from the section titled “Journey On to Spring”:

Deep Winter, Now Gone


April sun slips behind jagged peaks,

a lone Ponderosa long exposed

stands broken, splintered, like me.

Heavenly turmoil rolls in uninvited,

staking a claim I never knew existed.

I clench my fists in the windy rain

and scream like the tattered red tail

perched high in the distance.


Spring changes the land,

aspens with bent branches filled with swelling buds

look less gray, ready to birth new leaves.

The winter-ravaged land bathes

 in the drenching snowmelt.

To the east, misty sunshine gives way to a

a rainbow of soft Crayola colors.

I long to take my paint brush

create my own canvas

and sweep my palette across the skies.


I climb the rocky path towards home.

The red tail on his post

looks down on my noisy steps.

I need more time to navigate

this darkened footpath,

to break loose and move

toward clearing skies

of a deep winter now gone.