Symmetry of Petal and Soul

Awaken to a yellow sun
smiling daffodil lips
penetrating layers of spring
on a honeysuckle morning,
strumming love notes
into sentences;
dandelion fluff dancing
to dust in our tresses.

We lie ‘neath the willow
conversing in pretty adjectives
trading pink petals
for three little words,
falling back upon forget-me-nots-
blue and forgiving,
like constellations colliding
within the irises of our eyes.

Blanket, basket,
bouquets of marigolds
in scent of summer
under shadow of birch,
glasses bubbling over
stumbling on my words
caught up in your gaze;
limbs bend, curve
to the shape of a heart;
in a silhouette of us.




I press in;
dance to hymns,
blossom like a rose
within the shadow
of your presence,

grateful to awaken
to the warmth
of his feathered smile
when dawn breaks-
peeks through
blue lace curtains;

another morning
in the tapestry of us.

. I am writing a poem a day from November 14th through December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus… This is day 22… #Jesus


In His Image

Gold poured from his lips
and fell upon waiting ears.
Sun shone from his heart
reflecting an image of joy;
of pure, unadulterated love.
Follow me, he said, in tears,
let me lead you to the cross.

I am writing a poem a day from November 24th until December 25, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. .. This is day 8 ❤


The Cost

The flowers you planted
in the back yard, bloomed,

the willow ceased weeping.

I crave the beauty of your presence
in the two o’clock A.M. .silence

wind rushing through my hair;
the words you left,
honeysuckles to my ears.

Oh, let me read you!;
find the meekness
in the whole of your spirit,
the forgiveness
that remains, still,

between each thorn.



Today is a grain of sand
tossed by waves,
beaten, shaken down,
emulsified under the sun,

but, tomorrow is a flower,
planted by his hands,
nurtured, coddled,
kissed by the whisper
of promised wind.

Be that flower.


.I am writing a poem a day from November 24th until December 25, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. .. This is day 3


Love Letter #51: Solace

When morning makes light
of transgressions,
tulips bow and bend
at the mention of his name,
I find solace in feelings;
a whisper of sacrifice
stretched across wood;
remembrance of a love
that crosses boundaries-
tenderly lifts burdens
into heart-shaped wings
of atonement.



Love Letter #49: Date Night

He was surprised
when I suggested we sit in the park

and just talk.
We could have had candles
and a vase full of roses,
napkins in our laps,
and the hum
of other conversations,

but I wanted him all to myself-

sun beginning to fade
with just the ripples in the pond,
scent of fresh cut grass
and the reflection of periwinkles
in his soft, brown eyes;

oh, that gaze he gives me
the one that makes me look away;
hold back the tears.

When I think of us
I think of daffodils;
a love so delicate, unfading
and gold as morning,
whispered new every awakening,
like dew upon petals;
like pages of poetry,

crisp, like the red of autumn.