Open the skies
and let them in;
the weary, unsettled,
aching wanderers.

Let them dance
upon fertile ground,

love without fear
of persecution,
laugh fervently
in colors
to soothe a troubled soul

We could join hands;
soar, wing to wing;

sovereignty, a candle,
an afterglow
in life’s fickle fate.

Pass the torch
and we’ll put out the flame

with sweat, tears
all of those human things
dreams are made of.


A Long Way From London Bridge

Get over the clouds,
and walk on

over oceans of hearts
still and beating
like bumps in the road

giving way
to soft steps.

Tumble, carelessly;
thoughts hung out to dry
like windswept notions
playing havoc
with the day

and when night comes,
playful stars dance
‘ring around the rosy’
with dreams,

from your pocket

to mine

two, taking shelter
in just how far
love can carry us
from the ashes

before we fall.


~NaPoMo day 29 (a poem a day in April)


Oh, Charm City (for Baltimore)

On a cloudless night,
when even constellations hide
behind smoky air

street lights dim;
shiver in a light
that burns gold
in every neighborhood,

from every window,

We have never met,
but, I love you;
your streets glimmering red,
pale white and blue,

so blue

with all the wrong answers
to questions
swept under proverbial rugs.

Pitter patter of little feet stop;
eyes too innocent to see past the glow;

a lens that brings every flaw into focus;
these imperfections
we cannot seem to cover
with words or glossed over promises
that peel and rust like old dreams.

Only love
can heal wounds too deep to reach
and stitch up a flag of a city;
a country

too spirited
to fall.



~NaPoMo day 28 (a poem a day in April)


Pretty Pearl

Star gazing on an evening without clouds,
metaphors blowing like halos
around a jealous moon;
you, sleeping on my shoulder.
I could almost see your dreams
manifesting in clandestine language
with fireflies, following light
on a journey of unpaved roads.

Let’s go back to San Josef,
almost like a mirage,
where you found that perfect sand dollar
deep and twisted in deserted beach;
sand glistening like gold in your hair
and I knew then that you loved me.

Remember that cabin in the summer
when the lights went out
and we whispered under the covers
counting reasons why we will never change?
I gave you a middle name, and you changed mine
exchanging verses , seashells, words
that no one else has heard.
When the lights came back on,
you switched them back off and made dinner
by candlelight.

From that mountain, we cried,
promising forever over streams
under Pike’s peak
of sunlight in blurry eyed yesterdays.
You still hold my hand when vacation is over
my baggage on your back; my tears
filling your ocean blues.

You called me your pretty pearl
sang songs until the sun peeked
from heart-shaped pillow clouds
on dew petaled mornings

when only the pink ones were good enough
to pass from your hands to mine.

~NaPoMo (a poem a day for National poetry month)


Seductive Plagiarism

Such pretty lines
you whispered

to help me fall,

In love with poetry,
I soaked in every last drop
hearing rhymes in my sleep
flattered to inspire
such a muse.

I wondered why your words
sounded so familiar,
slightly out of character;

never in sync with mine.

I penned letters
into flower petals,
soft and unbroken;


and you
pulled them like weeds,
tossed them away
your words, stolen;

then discarded,
like my heart.


~day 27 NaPoMo (a poem a day in April)


Blooming Muse

It all starts
with a few little words
scribbled on a napkin
or one of those notepads
with a hotel logo at the top.

You don’t think much of it,
crumble it up,
stash it in the pocket
of your favorite jeans,
or the bottom of your purse,
and go on.

Like seeds, it spreads,
grows wings and blooms;
this petaled thing-
this voice.

Next thing you know,
it is shining, like sun,
like those stars
that sing you home.

You wonder
how something so imperfect
could spread rhythm like wildfire,
breathe life into simple chords,

like a split second image
through a lens;

a shower of colors,
on a white canvas,
screaming blue.

~(day 24 NaPoMo a poem a day in April)