Poetry

Included here is a very small sampling of the hundreds
of poems I have written over the years.

My Little Dolls

As I go to sleep at night,
I gaze upon my little dolls,
which grace the dresser with delight
and sit against my bedroom walls.

The Japanese doll, tall and straight,
stands guard the corn husk family,
as purple suited clown doth wait
beside them, smiling endlessly.

The lovely doll in velveteen
sits gracefully upon her chair,
so elegant, a child-queen,
watching o’er her sisters there,

As sister rocks her wooded steed,
a happy smile her face upon,
in nightgown e’er her case doth plead
to stay awake until the dawn.

The yarn doll watches, curious,
and clothespin doll, and hoop doll too,
friends all, they gossip, spurious
to do the things they should not do.

The big-wheeled carriage stands atop
the very end, its passenger
a baby doll, with blond curled mop,
waits patiently, as kittens purr.

The kittens three, though little cats,
guard gently with their dark glass eyes,
from on white dainty doily mats,
lest they be taken by surprise.

So, as I gaze upon each doll,
and bid goodnight to everyone,
they comfort me as sleep doth call,
and answer I when day is done.

A Little Path

As I walked along my way,
I noticed…there, beside a tree,
a little path which caught my eye,
and silently it beckoned me
to follow o’er a little hill,
and thence wherever it may lead.

With promises it held today,
and I, my curiosity
unquenched, so carried forward by
some gift of opportunity,
did onward, upward follow still,
pressed by an ever-growing need.

It’s winding way I followed where,
’round bend, beside a riverbed,
up hill and far down into vale,
it ever beckoned, ever led,
and promise of tomorrow gave
with every footfall I dared tread.

A cheery path, it took me where
lay grassy meadows ever fed
by swollen rivers, under pale
moon’s visage, as it whispered, said
‘continue ever forward, ‘brave’
and so, I followed where it led.

A final hill I climbed, though steep,
I had a most commanding view
of ocean tides, the rolling foam,
and far beyond, horizon too,
so, stood there watching ever long
that deepening ocean’s endless blue.

And there the little path did keep
a promise of adventure true,
and there did end, no more to roam.
And, standing in that ocean’s dew,
I sang my never-ending song,
now hopeful of a life anew.

The Wishing Well

I came upon a wishing well,
and looking far below,
saw remnants of the wishes
made by lovers long ago.

I wondered just how many wishes
put there had come true. Then,
closing my eyes, I dropped a wish
into the well…for you.

From the Summit

The sea and sky are blending,
the sailboat sails all bending
in the evening breeze.
The trees below stand mostly still,
and now it won’t be long until
the sun falls to the sea.
Where is he? I miss him,
though I cannot reason why.
And so, just sit and watch the sun
slipping from the sky.

Editor’s Choice Award Winner 2001

Dreams

Where has the funny kid
with the sunny disposition gone,
whose dreams dripped like honey
from the flower of life,
and rose with the sun
each day at dawn?

Grandmother, she.
Wife. Good Citizen,
doing what she should
for the good of everybody else.

Her dreams lay captured now
in sketches on the wall,
in photographs and scrapbooks
in a cupboard down the hall,
in songs on tapes now filed
away neatly in a box, or piled
discreetly in the piano seat;
in poems, organized and stacked
on office shelves in reams,
that write themselves at night
from her pillowtop in dreams.

Writer’s Blank

The ink flows not so easily,
the words come not so fast.
Could it be that I am
running out of words at last?

There were still so many things
I wanted yet to say.
I’ll put my pen and paper down
and try another day.

The Climb

The rock looms far above,
its cracked and pitted face
has dared my fear.
Is this the rock that
challenged me last year?
I check my gear,
my rope, and
analyze the slope.
My feet begin to climb
as heart, hands and feet,
in rhythm, mark the time,
and beads of sweat
fall down my cheek.
With twinges of regret
I dared this climb,
I contemplate a stop,
but don’t
because I know
when I reach the top,
the world below
is mine.