Seasonal Defiance

Cast my shadow over white banks
assert presence: proud, defiant

Will find beauty in deserted places
and colour in the monochrome

Haunted by a Winter state of mind
resolved to stretch despite chill.

(Image my creation)


Service contentment
Be a vessel –
giving and receiving
Create ripples
Be present
Push through limits
Be bliss spreading
viral joy

(I’ve started a new project: reading through old journals – mostly griping – to find new messages, new poetry.
This is my first result. Image my own.)


Words, like crickets
leap from my mind
chirping pests whose
trajectory eludes
dulled reflexes,
scuttling about
periphery of logic

Harmless, really,
in the singular –
cacophony of multitudes
threatening to multiply
take with them
semblance of sanity

Intuit a rhythm
I counsel self
to define the notes

in workable phrases
capture essence
and reason message

but the invaders
adverse to linearity
disappear beneath
the floorboards
of my conscious mind.

(Found this poem, languishing in my blog archives.
Edited, and with an updated title, thought it might
be worth a second look. Art my own.)

Please Visit Me at Tangled Locks Journal

I feel deeply honoured to be part of September’s issue of Tangled Locks Journal. Thank you to Teresa Berkowitz for accepting my poem, “Feline”. Please visit me there, and take a moment to peruse all the writing: you won’t be disappointed.

Tangled Locks Journal is published quarterly. Information for how to get involved is available on the site.

Contemplating Slopes

the looming
or the oceanside
cliffs whose ascent
mocks my limitations

the glint of
spidery thread,
whose expanse, though
delicate, stretches without fear

The way our income curves
downward, while
our needs

Life’s slopes
precarious, demanding
inevitable, and yet we find ourselves
ill-prepared when forced to navigate them.



I push against it
challenge it

A warrior intent
on proving
I am…

to flinch

that denial
equals power

Except, it gnaws
at my edges
tears me down
bit by bit

Just as I prepare
to succumb…

…this is invitation

…surrender is a gift

…pain is passage

I let go
absolve myself
of the need….

(Pain first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II in June of 2016.
It has been edited here. Art my own.)

Self as Book

The pages of this life
bound by aging leather
gilded letters cracked
intended meaning
long forgotten

No images adorn
the weathered face
the colour faded
shade of auburn
like my hair
once upon a time

Spine still sturdy
threads fraying
corners curling –
indicators of
a life well read.

(Written for Reena’s Xploration challenge #176. Image my own.)