The full moon hovers
in a star-filled sky
watching over us
as we lie
in a field of hay.

My eye sees
a protuding weed
above my head,
thinking back
on past memories.

Your body rubbing
against mine,
tongue in mouth,
kisses here, kisses there,
warm and fuzzy.
What’s this feeling –
in my spine?

Blushes, smiles, moans
and silent sighs,
kisses here, kisses there.

The moisture of your lips,
the warmth of your touch,
your voice, your laughter,
your fragrance,
your unspoken thoughts,
blends with mine.

Beat against beat,
breath against breath,
we live, we breathe,
we love…

Here we are again,
under the star-filled sky.
You look good tonight.
I was prepared

to roll around,
to giggle, to laugh,
to cry
in ecstasy.

But I’m silent and still
as I look at you
and you look at me,
and I know
that the past
can no longer be.

Warm and fuzzy,
gone with the wind
of yesteryear,

you and me
always and forever

walking together,
side by side
but separately
on the trail
of life.

Love is…

sitting in a dim room, on the sofa,
wearing your favorite tube top
and tight-fitting low-rise jeans,
channel surfing and making stupid jokes,
while twirling your hair,
glancing at the clock,
watching the seconds go by…
tick, tick, tick,

waiting for the phone to ring,
waiting to hear his voice.
You reach for the phone,
but hesitate.

Instead, you push the curtain aside,
and hope his silver car pulls in
to your driveway
for a surprise

An hour passes,
you sit on the sofa
and channel surf.

Love is…

putting balls
of cookie dough
on a baking sheet,
placing it on the oven rack
and watching it rise,

smelling the sweet aroma,
thinking of Pillsbury
dough boy’s
cute, little laugh
and how you would like
to make your boy

just like that, as you imagine
standing on the steps,
ringing his doorbell,
greeted by his smile
as he sweeps
you into a sweet embrace
and later cuddle
by the fireplace
eating chocolate chip cookies,

salivating with pleasure
and longing.
In reality, you sit
at the kitchen table
eating sugar cookies

Love is…

when you put all his stuff
in a cardboard box.
His Raiders jacket
that he let you wear
when it started to pour,
ticket stubs to “Just My Luck”
and other chick flicks
you dragged him to see.

Birthday cards and teddy bears,
hand-made gifts and poetry
sealed with a kiss,
memories of love,
memories to be forgotten,
placed at his doorstep
in the pouring rain.

Love is…

driving in your car
heading to God knows where,
listening to sappy love songs
from the static-filled radio
that is drowned out by the rain.

You watch the swish,
swish, swish
of your window wipers,
It sweeps away the raindrops

as your hand sweeps
away your tears,
pitter-patter, pitter-patter,
like the drums

of your heart.
It gets foggy,
you can’t really see
what’s going on.
Slam on the brakes,
maybe it’ll clear up,
maybe not.

You smile, you laugh,
you don’t know why
as you drown
in tears.

Love is…
love is…

Addicted to His Words

If you own a cell phone, enjoy text messaging and have experienced romantic feelings, I’m sure this poem will speak to you =)

Addicted to His Words

Lying on cotton pillows
with silk embracing skin,
wrapped in fleece blankets,
moments from oblivion,
awaiting sweet slumber.

The scent of roses
drifts in your nose,
an intense feeling
of ecstasy,
yawning and stretching,
curled into a ball,
waiting to dream
of nirvana, utopia
or their synonmyms.

Eyelids droop down,
breathing slows down,
but you refuse to sleep
for the heart is not content,
beating with anticipation
as hands clench metal,
unwilling to let go,
ears perked, waiting
for the sound.

“Beep, beep..”
a smile creeps
onto your lips.
you’re addicted
to his words,

Goodnight Text Message

Beauty in Silence

I hope everyone had a great Valentine’s Day last Friday.  To help you continue some of that romance, I’d like to share a sweet love poem with you.

Beauty in Silence

On a wooden bench,
we sit
with our endearing
Your arm
around my shoulder,
my head on yours.

Fuzzy cashmere
brushes my cheek
as we watch
cars zoom by –
a flash of metal,
a puff of dust.

A squirrel scurries
across the lawn
as the sprinklers
turn on
with the scent
of Spring.

The breeze ruffles
your hair.
Tulips waver
side to side.
Leaves float
to the ground,
a gentle sound.

The sky changes colors,
the sun drops down
as your breathing
joins with mine.
the world go by.

Watching the World Go By



Young Love

With Valentine’s Day slowly approaching, I wanted to share a sweet poem about young love.

Young Love

Bon soir, midnight –
a starless sky
full of cotton-
candy clouds.

Between them
are figurines –
a sea horse, a dog,
a character,
a bunny with a gun –
ink blot tests
of the mind.

In the distance,
the shape, of
water slides,
and a sky light
shining colors
of the world.

Before us,
the crystal lake,
like a diamond
with orange,
so quiet, so still.

The geese, they sing
for us
as we lay

I can feel
your body
moving, breathing
next to mine.

Your arm
wraps around
me.  It feels
so warm, so tight,
so right…

Hershey’s Kiss

Here is a fun poem about everyone’s favorite chocolate in the month of February.  I hope you enjoy this piece!

Hershey’s Kiss

An almond shaped like a gem,
placed in a swirling chocolate liquid
beating with life.
Sweet and scented,
twisted and molded
into a flattened teardrop.

Dark and brown
like nature’s dirt.
Carefully dressed
in silver,
sometimes in red,
sometimes in gold.

Hershey’s kiss,
shaped by He,
loved by Her.

Like a chocolate,
I melt in your mouth.



Excerpt from The Touching of Souls

The cool thing about doing Winter Cleaning is discovering bits of yourself that you had forgotten about.  While cleaning and reorganizing files on my laptop, I came across this short story I wrote back in 2006.  I particularly liked this part of the story, and thought I’d share it with you.  I hope you enjoy it.

Excerpt from The Touching of Souls

Outside his apartment, she had thrown her arms around him in an endearing embrace as he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist.  Standing on her tippy toes, they shared a tender kiss.  It didn’t matter where they were or who was watching, she was literally swept off her feet.  As they pulled apart, Kelly’s fingers lingered on his shoulders, slowly sliding down his arms, and finally resting in his hands.  She swung their hands together side to side, as she slowly looked up at him with her glistening eyes.

“So this is goodbye?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, a little hoarse.  She looked down at the cement pavement, letting the words echo in her mind.

“Can’t we make this work?  I want to visit again.  I want to make more memories with you,” she beckoned.

“I miss you too much.  It hurts when I barely get to see you,” he replied.

“Once a month,” she said, offering a false grin.

“Is not enough,” he finished, “We should see other people … people that are much closer to us.”

Kelly bit her lips, slowly letting go of Ryan’s hands, feeling empty as her fingertips touched the open air.  Straightening her back, Kelly walked towards her car.  She was about to open the door when Ryan grabbed her hand and swung her into his arms, once again.  She could smell his cologne, a smell she couldn’t describe, but one that she would never forget.  It was the smell of Ryan.

Kelly snuggled against his chest as he gently laid his chin on her head.

“I’ll miss you,” he whispered.

Kelly said nothing, hugging him closer, listening to his heart beat.  Finally she pulled away.  Before getting in the car, Kelly turned around and said, “I love you, in a sense.”

Ryan looked into her eyes and gave her a sad smile, “I truly liked you,” he replied, “and always will.”

Kelly backed the car out of the driveway, suppressing the tears from flowing out.  As she drove off, the image of Ryan leaning against the open doorway of his apartment, expressionless, was implanted in her mind.

Frozen in Time, The Beat Goes On

This was a fun poem I wrote based on the theme of music.  It’s one of my favorite pieces because I just love the musical rhythm and the fact that I was pretending to be a man.

Frozen in Time, The Beat Goes On

Sparkling glitter and gold,
swaying side to side,
she captures my eyes
keeping me hypnotized.
Longing for her touch,
wanting to know her name,
my heart beats faster
as I gasp for breath.
The beat goes on.

Music filling my ears,
her body filling my mind,
I dance and dance
swinging and shaking
trying to catch her eye,
waiting … longing …
hesitating …

holding my breath,
she looks my way
and I am lost.
lost in my mind,
frozen in time,
caught in her eyes
The beat goes on.

Working her way
through the crowd,
sliding and gliding
to be by my side.
She’s grasping my hand,
I’m gasping for air,
but without a care,
she dances,
seducing me with her hips.
The beat goes on.

How can I ever forget
the girl who captured my heart?
The girl like an angel,
but with mischief in her eyes.

My little witch
who kept my heart beating
as our bodies swayed,
lips met, minds collide.

On that special night,
our souls touched
and I lost my sight,
blinded by love.
The beat goes on.

Disco Psychedelic Dance

Writing Challenge

Now it’s your turn

  • Write a poem based on the theme of music and post it in the comments below.

The Paper Box

While looking through pages and pages of my journals to compile my poetry book, I came across this poem that I wrote a couple years ago when I thought I had lost my best friend.  I had forgotten that I had wrote this and it brought back sweet memories.

The Paper Box

I looked down at the crisp sheet of paper.
I had written his name in cursive letters.
Whether it was superstition
or a sign of faith,
I slipped his name into a paper box.

My best friend had been gone for days.
Where did he go?
I didn’t know.
I looked far and near –
from the neighborhood to the parks,
I searched everywhere.

I longed to see his face –
his round little eyes,
his pink curling tongue,
his floppy, girly ears.
I wanted to hold him near.
I wished that he was happy.
Yearning for his return,
hoping and praying,
and continually saying
that he was “OK.”
Then my prayers were answered
and he came home one night.

Wagging his tail and full of life,
pouncing with all his might.
He was glad to be home.
We embraced him with our love.
He had been gone for a week.

His energy decreased
after the first night
and he refused to eat.
Skinny and starving,
looking frail and weak.
My heart ached to see him.
The poor boy was ill,
but I loved him still.
With tender loving care –
stroking, feeding, petting –
Slowly, but surely,
we nursed him to health.

Happy was home,
that much is true,
Paper box, thank you!

A photo of Happy
A photo of Happy