Just Another Poet’s Perspective on Perfection

From fields of bluebonnets
to scattered, tumbling dandelions,
to yellow painted suns;
the red blur of cardinals in flight
landing upon steeples of grace
singing psalms of adoration;

your canvas flowing
in ripples, before us,

so, how can I sit here

at this empty page?

Should I borrow blue
from your sculptured sky,
clouds bursting ivory stories
to lovers, gazing
tracing silhouettes
attempting to be filled,

but, still,

there are not enough adjectives
to adequately describe this light-
this love penetrating my heart;

the image-
the wonder of you.


Like Similes of Spring

Your eyes dance;
open and close
with the tickle of lashes
upon tenderness
of cheeks.

The sun rises and sets
in our reflection
swaying, hearts full,
like poetry-
like an inlet
to eternal rivers.

Our silhouette springs
like budding flowers
even if we’re closer
to winter.



We felt the shade,
Grandpa and I,
in the screened porch
watching the red blur
of cardinals

disappear into green,
ad libbing
morning hallelujahs

like love songs
to unclouded skies.


Put the Kettle On

She says
it always tastes better
at my house;

steeped and poured
over lemon wedges

and a teaspoon of honey.


Rejection Slip

Wiggling in my desk chair,
took a spin around
with a pencil behind my ear
feeling sharp,
in front of my new toy-
shiny, black
with keys that had power
under my fingers,

typing out my heart
way after three o’clock;
coffee getting cold,
the letters “U-n-d-e-r-w-o-o-d,”

now red

the lines were read,
without typos,
each syllable,
grammatically sound,
semicolons in place,
with all the right adjectives,

so why haven’t they fallen
in love with my charms?
I even brought flowers,
love letters
and bled

until there was no more



Tending Gardens

When I worked with flowers,
the scent of my hands
made me happy,

like how I wake up, now,
my face, soft on your pillow;
your cologne reminding me
of last night’s conversation

and how I never let you sleep.


Love Letter 73: Jeweled

If I had ten strings to tell you
that my heart longs for your touch
like feathers
in the wind of your presence;

my senses ache for a whisper;
just a breath of you.

My fingers find your syllables
in wildflowers, blooming,
in yellow dawn,
in purple endings
in the light of stars
formed by your hands;

flutter of wings,
of what diamonds-

what jewels are we.


inspired by Psalm 33:2-3 &
Matthew 6:25-34