A mother’s questions… A poem

As months become weeks become days
The countdown to you grows intense
Am I ready? Will I be ready?
Will I be the type of mother I always hoped I’d be?
The cleaning, the purging, the organizing…
All to make room for something so small
that seems so BIG
Life changing, altering, never to be the same.
But for the better?…
More love & more laughter
With coos & smiles
More strength & more tears
With discipline & tough love
But in the end always more LOVE.


Morning Mountain Meditations

The mountains appear before me as though battle weary soldiers walking out of the mist,
dawn paints her colours across the sky, blues making way to reds, oranges & golds,
as she chases away the black cloak of night.
Lines slowly become more distinct, the straight symmetry of man, the soft undulations of nature, a textured tapestry.
Moving lights become little toy cars, small things on a child’s play set.
With each passing moment the mountains change their hue, blushing like virgins at the day’s whispered advances.
Promises of glory, of fire, of gold…
Of admiration from the masses from below,
& above as helicopters beat their incantations on the brightening sky.


“In the house of lovers the music never stops, the walls are made of songs & the floor dances.” Rumi

I open the door to my fantasy house
Set on top of a hill inside my mind
It’s a sweet home
Filled with laughter, love…
& two halves of a whole
Swaying to the rhythm of their heartbeats
Whispered endearments on mingled breath
Stolen kisses between long glances
The morse code of adoration
~ author: me

So quiet

I sit so quiet
Because I have too much to say
Thinking, dreaming, praying
Troubling my nights & taking up my day
I sit so quiet
Waiting for you to make a sound
Whispering, speaking, yelling
Showing that an emotion has been found
I sit so quiet
I know not what to say
Thinking, dreaming, praying
Hoping I will find a way.
~ author: me


Love poems 8.11.03

send your love to me…
and your heart too.
give them to my safe-keeping
as i will do to you.

my heart misses
those sweet kisses
that i get from you…
and in every dream
my mind seems
to make you the star…
it hurts to think
and my heart sinks
deep beneath the floor…
i wish that i
had wings to fly
to where you are…


Finding your muse: you inspire my fantasies & bring colour to my imagination (W.I.P #2)

I think to be able to write creatively you must have a muse. Now I don’t believe that it has to be a person, it could be a time in your life that had a strong effect on you.
I use both, sometimes I write to a specific person, as though I were telling them a story, and sometimes I use times in my life (both good & bad) that still echo within to this day.

W.I.P #2

Wishing I could sail away
Back into my memory
To youthful summers in the sun
Days & nights of warmth…
Laughter… Echoing out on the waves…
Lapping at the boat,
As we gently rock
In the arms of Mother Nature
Off to the island of dreams.
~ author: me