I crave orange –
not the shade of deceit
oozing in political corners
I seek fiery tones
the hues of transformation
the promise beyond this cocoon.
(Image my own.)
I crave orange –
not the shade of deceit
oozing in political corners
I seek fiery tones
the hues of transformation
the promise beyond this cocoon.
(Image my own.)
Youth flaunts her truth
serious in convictions –
that eternity exists
that words carry worth
Folly naturally succeeds
break down – inevitable
the opportunity to learn –
silent, age considers action.
(Image mine)
Two mothers were we
frozen in disbelief
as smoke rose
Cried for the losses
for our children
for a future devoid
of peace
Two mothers
hand-in-hand
shattered
A Christian
and a Muslim
War destroys all dreams.
(Image my own.)
I farm reflection
plant seeds of wrath, soil black –
insatiable words
nurtured by mind-storms and rays
of passing enlightenment.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image mine)
Happiness, he says,
is your responsibility
and then…
If you love me enough…
If you showed more appreciation…
If you lost a little weight…
and…
Clearly, not my problem.
Really?
Is it always just me?
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge #151: Is it always me? Image mine)
What if we could proofread
our life – edit it in the moment –
patch over the rough spots –
change the dragon lady
into a polished princess?
Don’t know about you,
but I prefer fire to ice…
(Image mine.)
Drawn to trees
ink chasing lines
yearning for definition
How to capture
strength…beauty…
such profound calm
Even as the regal Walnut
towers over this place
she dwells within me
I know
I feel her
she seeks expression
My Tree of Life.
(In Response to Eugi’s Weekly prompt: Tree of Life. I have been obsessed with drawing trees. The featured image is the beginning of a series that keeps drawing me in. Others in the series below.)


Unity seems an apt response
Yet we pillow fight, toss
sinewy threads of notions…
Is righteousness really
more important than peace?
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
The rumble of men’s voices
grunting shifts beneath
heavy wooden furnishings
The transition is underway
Broom and cloth at hand
I hover out of sight
Will erase each vestige of us
bless this passage, prepare
to welcome the new.
(Moving day! Prewritten for Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: transition. Image mine.
We will not have access to the internet for a few days. I hope to be back on the weekend.)