A challenge...

I challenge one and all to write a poem or short essay with the word "cuddle" in it.

Don't ask
: )

sotto voce

soft sounds of love
cradle beneath
a pale orange moon,

lifts eyes

whose desire curiously
opens soft pink
folds of love.

mouth searches…
an assuring touch
in the dark.

sepia shadows dance across
the dew-kissed September lawn,
hot plum wine breath inhales deeply

and then release a sudden whisper...

a confessional moment.

Closer to God

The closer you get with God,
the harder the devil knocks
on your door!

Never leave home
without the armor
of God on.

Choking on fear

I braved the waters today
and dove in head first
with no fear of drowning.

I have drowned before
many times,
choking on my fears
till they bled out.

No one ever noticed
I hid it well, still do,
as strong currents
wrap around my ankles
and drag me under.

I hold my breath
till I have no more breath
left in my lungs to hold...
I can't breath.
I gasp for air,
water fills my lungs
suffocating me...

But then I surface--
I always surface

leaving footprints
. . . at the water's edge.

Psychedelic

Today I pulled memories
out of the back of a closet.

Memories neatly preserved
on 45 RPM vinyl.

The psychedelic, mod design box
took me back to a time of innocence.
A time of a war that was ending.
A war I knew very little about.
But still I wore a POW bracelet
and prayed everyday for that soldier.

In a far away land,
the brave risked or lost their life.
In a small corner of America,
I was a girl, becoming a woman.
Trying to figure it all out.

Sheltered from the harshness
of the world,
by two loving parents.

Hell!...I didn't even know
about Woodstock till 1970,
when the album hit the stores.
And Crosby, Stills and Nash
sang of Woodstock.

The memory filled box
sings to me of a
"becoming of age" time.

Like it was yesterday,
when I was young.
The tender age of thirteen
and in love for the first time.
"Puppy Love" so they say.

Those were the days
that held me tight.
At times, chewed me up
and spit me out.

There was the Hurdy Gurdy Man
and Mrs. Robinson.
Hey Jude made a sad song better.
I walked through crimson and clover.
Had an Indian Giver for a best friend.
This magic moment made me dizzy.
I weaved a gum chain from
cinnamon gum stick wrappers.
Picked buttercups in
a field of lie that let me down.
No big surprise.

Hanky Panky was frowned upon.
But the river is wide, as
I raced off on a spinning wheel.
Someday I may get back to you
if you don't let me down.
I could have been your Heather Honey.

In the Ghetto, they don't
understand the Israelites.
Maybe in the year 2525,
persuasion will be crystal blue.
You can't always get what you want.
But just look into these eyes
to see that I adore you,
more today than yesterday.

Let me grow my hair
shoulder length or longer.
Swing through the trees
like Guitarzan.
In this world, only the strong survive.
So rock me, cause Eli's coming
and he seeks an Evil woman.

Holly Holy!

Baby, take me in your arms,
cause we're so good together.

Peace man! Groovy.
Flower Power.
Make Love, not War.

I still wonder...
How many people
can fit inside a bug?

un-red valentine

your love is like
wild winds whipping my heart
staining me blue

Somewhere, tea for two

Out of the shadows a romantic story emerges

of two souls destined to find love.

It's true, so many stories of romance have been written

that one could make a noose for the world with them.

But love is a very funny thing and as you know

you can hate someone you love

and love someone you hate...



Many times over and over again love is misunderstood

and many are stood up and many have missed the boat.

Still, can one live without it?

Men are driven to insanity over and by women...

and women, well, yeah, you already know the story.



So another love story to gag on is in the making...

did I lose you yet?

Perhaps I did, but a least my shadow is still here,

waiting right next to me as I sit at a quaint little

bistro table at an outside cafe just waiting to order.

"Madame, may I take your order?"

" Not just yet, sir, I am hoping to order tea for two"

Angel in the Park

Once upon a time
long before my birth,
under the cobalt sky of earth,
amongst the horse chestnut trees
and carpet of green in a park...

a man made a decision to
finally speak to the dark-eyed
beauty with the long blackish hair.
that he had seen for many days
in his daily travels to and fro.

The Spring air was crisp and
his step was lively as he
approached this lovely lady.

As space closed-in between them,
the lady quickly turned and walked away,
like that of a playful doe, gracefully
sprinting off into the thicket.

Puzzled, the man sat down on a bench
under a horse chestnut tree and thought
it odd that there were no lower branches.

Wispy, white clouds, low in the sky
drifted by as a strong wind swiftly
whipped through his dark wavy hair.
He jumped to his feet as
he heard an inner voice say
"She is the one, go to her."

Un-be known to him, 'twas the
voice of my guardian angel.

Meanwhile, still in the park,
was the dark-eyed beauty,
waiting for three o'clock.

Once again, the wavy-haired man
approached the lady and
once again, she sprinted off.

Dumb-founded, the man walked off,
wondering if he should give it one more try.
These thoughts smoked his mind.

The sky began to turn a radiant blue,
ethereal and divine.
A cloudy image of a heavenly messenger
hovered over the horse chestnut tree.
Deep, woody fragrance of evergreen
delighted the man's senses
as the aroma infused with
the glory in his heart.

It was now three o'clock and
'round the bend of the park
walking lively up the path,
was the dark-eyed beauty.

As he approached her, the distance
between them disappeared,
and they spoke to each other
for the first time and
many times thereafter....
I call this man and woman...Mom and Dad.

Long before my birth....
my guardian angel,
their guiding angel....

the Angel in the park.

A Beautiful Place

is where my heart soars
and my pen tries to follow.

A place where the sun warms
my skin to a golden bronze.

I could be anywhere and if a free
moment comes my way, I steal away,
sit back and close my eyes.

The swoosh of car tires become
the waves on a beach as they lull
me into my own little world.

All I need is but a few minutes
to last me through the day,
like a sweet little vacation
where the hot sun caresses my face
like passionate kisses
and the dry breeze feels good
as it cools down my hot skin.

I drift into a midsummer daydream--
gulls circle overhead,
screams of excited children in the distance,
salty ocean spray coats my skin and
glasses till the day appears to be foggy.
My toes dig for damp sand as the sun
intensifies its heat.

I daydream of a rocking sensation from
a time when I stood in between two
shoals in the shallow water of the ocean
as the tide came in.
I stood there for a long time.
It was so peaceful, so soothing.
I felt that rocking long after
I came out of the water,
kind of like the sensation when
your feet still feel like they are
ice skating, long after the skates are off.

I think back to long road trips in summer
when my kids where small and we drove
to Hershey where the whole town
smelled like chocolate pudding
cooking on a stove top.
Where it must have been a law
that everyone had to plant flowers
in that town.
It was so beautiful and sweet there,
and I miss those times when my kids
were small and loved me like I was the
most important thing in their world.
Perhaps it is a beautiful place
in their daydreams too.

I am tempted to put this daydream in rhyme,
but for most, that would be a crime.

I could free verse this daydream to death,
but it is saved by time.

Time to come back from a beautiful place.

Invisable War

And so today I awake
to the dragons fiery hold
upon my throat.
As warriors drum
their violent sound
deep within my head.
I stand, and it's as if
the eighth wonder of the world
has just slammed his fist
down upon my head.
No number of painkillers
will do today.

I am strong...usually.
But still, the microscopic
enemy has entered.
My army of antibodies
has depleted.
They are under surprise attack!
Oh shit!

I can hear my army
calling for back up.
"All vitamins in the
cupboard...enter now!"
Being the leader of my army,
I cannot let them down.

I have failed them.
I have let stress take over.
I have burned the candle
from both ends.
But such is life.

Now it's up to me
to win this war.
And win I will!

As flames of fire
rise up from within me,
I make my way to the cupboard.

Outside, Spring summons me,
with it's promising sun, blue sky,
crocus, and robins.
But the brightness is
so wicked today.
My eyes squint and turn away.

In a daze, I open the cupboard
and find the weapons of choice
for my saving army.
Down my scratchy, red throat
I swallow vitamins one by one,
and flood myself with spring water.

Half my task is now done!
Now I must go lay down
and let sleep come...

Sleep comes easier then
I imagined it would today.
I begin to dream...
strange, vivid dreams.
All along my army is
flowing through my veins
after the enemy with vengeance!

The enemy takes the same path
and I am just thankful it never
goes into my stomach,
for then I would be at the
mercy of the puke demon.
Instead, it only knows
how to infect my
upper respiratory system.
Annoying as that can be,
it is deal able.
I know in about seven days
my army will have chased
the enemy completely out!

Meanwhile...
I will continue to
hallucinate from
the fire that burns within
as I stumble around
with a top-heavy head.

Orange Moon

Driving home 'round the bend
I ran into an orange moon.
Twas hanging right in front of me.
Right between the tall oak trees.

It stole my breathe in a second
It took my heart, right then and there.
I fell in love with you again,
by the sight of this orange moon.

I headed north down Randall Rd
and feared that I would loose it.
But there it was, just left of me.
That orange wafer of a moon.

It sailed so smoothly, yet shyly hid
between the trees and in the clouds.
No way for it to go un-noticed.
This larger then life orange moon.

I wondered if others thrilled over
this touchable site within the sky.
I wondered if Cosmo would mind
if I borrowed his moon tonight.

At that very moment, we connected.
As I felt you viewing...
that same orange moon.

Misty

Soft morning mist caresses me
like your memory
as a ray of sun peeks through
like your blue eyes upon my heart.
The birth of a flower rises up
from the earth
like your soul going home
to meet our Lord.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Photo by Alex, at Photography by Alex
thanks, Alex!

Of Music

Is there no sweeter moment for my soul
then one that sings to me such sweet delight?
In the darkest of storms, it does console.
In the heat of passion, it can excite.
You ask of me which one my heart holds dear.
But how can I choose of only one song?
Rainbows and star dust, I can clearly hear.
As whispers in the night, travel along.
Sweet symphony still plays the water's edge.
I lose myself within the heart of rock.
Then I place my heart upon a thin ledge,
and soak myself into a writer's block.
Still sweet melodies sing of memories,
the beat that pulses through my arteries.

Of Peace and Joy

I learned as a child, the horrors of war.
I learned from books and pictures I saw.
I learned of hate, violence and greed
I learned of starving people, we couldn't feed.

I thought back then, the world would change
I thought other cultures, seemed really strange.
Why would they live in a place with no food and water?
Why would a parent pick a husband for their daughter?

Why does man fight over land, when there is so much?
Why can't we share the lands resources and such?
I thought time would civilize everyone.
But it's like waiting for the midnight sun.

I wish for us all, that wars would cease.
I pray everyday for world wide peace.
I found here, a little haven of joy,
of heart and soul...the real McCoy.

In our own little corner of the world, we live
with love, hope and understanding to give.
We, poets of the world, stand tall, stand proud
We speak in volumes without being loud.

Yet our message is heard through many words.
Rehearsed through scholars and even nerds.
Long live the words through our verse
as they enter the mind and then immerse.

The Dance

In the quiet of the night
learning poetry was contentment,
till there was a knock on the door
and an offer to dance.
A flower hesitated to bloom
in an uncaring world.
Who would notice her colours anyway?
Shyly her petals began to unfold.
How bold this dance made her feel.
Her colours began to radiate...
the most precious flower of the garden.
She stood tall, gaining strength in her stem.
Never before were her colours noticed.
She became tangled in the tango
revealing her morning dew
within her unfolded sepal.
During the intensity in the heat of the dance
the heart of the flower had been eaten.
This began the demise of the flower.
Her petals began to fall, one by one.
Once a muse for passionate poetry...
now left out in the rain to welter and cry.
The strength drained from her stem,
her colours sunk to the ground.
Yet still, her fragrance fills the air,
she knows this dance will not be forgotten.