My 2020 Travel Bucket List: Iceland

It’s only February. and I’m already dreaming of travel. First on my travel bucket list? Iceland. See why I want to go and you should too. … More My 2020 Travel Bucket List: Iceland

To Ruin

Ashes dance in the midnight sky,Whose inky waves rippleWith the wailing wind. Fire roarsAs it cascades down the hills, and the forestWhirs with commotion. Birds and beastsOf every fur and feather flee For the babble of the river. But the blazeEncircles and traps.Its fingers splayed, orange and red,Pull leaf, lumber, and those still livingTighter tighter … More To Ruin

The Sparrows’ Song

The sparrows flitAmidst autumn grovesOf ash and of oak.Their songs slipLike a gossamer breezeThrough the branches,Whose outstretched armsEmbrace the tuneWith rosy fingers splayed. Beneath the boughs,On a bed of moss,I drift into reverie.The shade is thick,The leaves fall,And the sparrows sing on. I listen with one ear perkedAnd another nestled in dirt.Sleep will take me.Winter … More The Sparrows’ Song

Before Their Time

Tulips spring From the morbid earth, Their leaves fleshy and green. One by one, Their petals splay, Tender to smell And to touch. And all the while The sun rises On weepy skies And wind-choked streets. Brown and decrepit, The grass lies low, As bulbs beyond count Slumber in ground below. Alone, The tulips stand … More Before Their Time

Ever Higher

Fireflies flit Around the beckoning flames Like paper lanterns, Shimmery and gold, Floating towards the sun. You hum a labored tune Deep in your weary chest. The air is crisp, Your fingers numb. Your voice fails. Your head falls While the scorched logs Hiss, and the smoke Rises ever higher.

A Summer Night

The lake sits quiet. Not a ripple stirs The shore. Night is a threadbare Shroud, hung loose Over the cool waters. Stars dance, And the silver moon bares A crescent smile. Scents Of mint and clove Drift on the gentlest Breeze. A single Flower blooms, Its velvet petals dark As dusk. The crickets Trill. The … More A Summer Night

The Gated Garden

I have dawdled Too long in gated Rose gardens. The air Is fresh, the breeze As sweet as morning dew. Flowers blush Red. Their leaves lap Up the smiling sun. But winter winds blow Round and round The iron gates. Ivy tendrils tremble While frosty fingers Suck their life Dry. Grass blades bend To the … More The Gated Garden

Alone in Company

I spent a year In a pixie’s garden Where winter washes Over the lilacs In a wave of crystal frost, And summer surges In the heavy, humid air With the bustle Of a thousand bees Filling their combs past the brim. And always Nestled in the shade Of an oaken giant, Cloaked in shadow And … More Alone in Company