The Poets’ Corner

The Poets' Corner

The Poets’ Corner

How I arrived there, I was unsure
But there I was
Alone in my humanness,
In the room of the souls…
Standing in the quintessence
Of apparitions
In what must have been
The most peculiar
Of poets’ corners…
All of them loquaciously
Offering their lore
As if I were the ghostwriter
For all who dwell in other worlds…
The intense energy
Filling the crowded room
Causing the tiniest of hairs
Upon my skin to stand so inflexibly,
One might surmise that I had grown thorns…
Quivers rippling up the back of my neck
Like a kaleidoscope of butterflies
Fluttering along my spine…

The voices spoke
Of transcendent rhymes
With only the whisper of breath
Stirring echoes of angels
Resounding in my head…
I gazed into the mirrored glass
Upon the hallowed walls
With visions of only
The morning mist
In hues of a blushing dawn…
I penned their words
Upon the parchment
As they smiled at my
Scribbled scrawls…
Each one citing runes of reason
Filling verses with what was
Once misunderstood…

Suddenly there was silence…
The pressure inside my head
Dropped so rapidly
I feared my mind would
Vaporize into mere thoughts
Of fractured ink…
The tiny hairs
Fell tranquil against my skin…
The butterflies followed
The scent of lavender
Weaving through the open window…
There was no whispered breath
But that of my own
Conversing with the echoes of angels
Now retiring to worlds
Beyond my human comprehension…
As I gazed into the mirrored glass
Finding but my own reflection
In hues of black and white –
I held in my hand
The parchment
Scrawled from the quintessence
Of apparitions
While I stood alone
In my humanness –
In the most peculiar
Of poets’ corners…



Bottles of Wine

Bottles of Wine

Photograph by Amy Watson

Bottles of Wine

Poetry always gives birth to a story
Of life
Of love
And sometimes of glory
Yet the soul often lingers
In truths tween the lines
Neath shadows of moonlight
And bottles of wine

What if the poet just laid it all out
The tears
The sorrow
Truths scattered about
Readers are left without reason to wonder
They’d just feel the pain
The sorrow
The thunder

Perhaps it is best to hide tween the lines
The hunger
The thirst
Kept safe neath the rhyme
Certainly, one day they’ll fall off the vine
Neath shadows of moonlight
And bottles of wine




My apology to those who have come here expecting to find a poem.
This is not one of those.
This is just something that I needed to say…
For me!
Perhaps some of you may find the poetry within my thoughts.


If I could just picture the person standing in front of me
As if they were…
Wouldn’t I want to show kindness toward him?

If I could just imagine the person behind me
Standing next to me
Across the room from me
As if they were…
Would I not truly want to be kind to her?

We’ve all pondered the purpose of life.
I can’t imagine a single soul on this earth that has not wondered.
In one of Neale Donald Walsch’s books of “Conversations with God” he states…

“The purpose of life is to create your Self anew, in the next grandest version
Of the greatest vision ever you held about Who You Are.”

Yes… I know… I had to read it over and over again too,
Just to make sure I understood the true meaning of the words.

Now… whether you believe in God…
Or not…
Whether you believe that Mr. Walsch actually had conversations
Directly with God…
Or not…
Whether you think Mr. Walsch is completely full of shit…
Or not…
Even if your religious beliefs prevent you from even imagining such a thing…
Or not…
I can’t help but think… that if we could just allow that thought
To cross our minds…
On occasion…
When we get upset –
When we get angry with another –
When the line we have to stand in is far too long –
When another driver cuts us off on the expressway –
When we know someone is lying to us straight faced –
When political matters are not going in our direction –
When we’re sitting at the table having dinner

With those we care so much about…
When we’re sitting in church a bit bored with the preaching
Longing for a stimulating conversation
With that soft ‘inner voice’…
If we could just run that phrase through our minds in one brief moment…
Wouldn’t we be offering ourselves the perfect opportunity
To become a better person?
Would that not help to improve
Our understanding
Our humanity
Our compassion toward others?
Wouldn’t we be welcoming the opportunity for peace to thrive
In our lives
In our family
In our community
In our world?

If in this very moment, every one of us attempted to be the
“…grandest version of the greatest vision” we ever held about who we are…
Would that not help us all to realize what being human is all about?
To recognize the oneness of us all…

I would never say that living that version of one’s self is something easy…
It is not…
I struggle with it daily… sometimes minute by minute.
Far too many times I have thought of those words…
That grandest version of myself…
Just after I have done or said something that I wish I had not…
But that’s when I realize that I have yet to truly become
That greatest vision of who I am…
But I will continue to reach for that vision…
It isn’t easy…
But sharing kindness with another…
Is easy…
And that most certainly should be a part of everyone’s
Greatest vision of
Who we are…

Who do you want to be?

Share your kindness…
Share that kindness with someone you don’t even know…
It could change the world.

Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to post what I needed to say…
For me!

Have a most beautiful day!


Whispers of Raindrops

Whispers of Raindrops 1

I stood in the middle
Of my confusion
Lifting my face to the sky
While whispers of raindrops
Caressed my thirsty skin…

Words of your own sagacity
Linger deep within my soul
Speaking louder than paltry fables
Poured into the pool
From which we sip…

Yet you dwell in other worlds
Whispering truths
Far beyond my intellection
With every single drop of rain
Musing dreams
In the hush
Beyond the tempest…

I stood calm amidst the chaos
Penning love and understanding
While others stood blindly
In the fire –
In their own pretention…

I reached for them with rhymes
Of which you speak
Yet what I saw
Were fisted hands
Of those who could not see –
Those who could not feel
Beyond their own
Sallowed skin –
Those who turned
And walked away
By the echoes
Of silence…

I stood in the middle
Of my confusion
While whispers of raindrops
Fell softly from my face
To the parchment
In fractured ink
Now etched
In blurred mystic hues

I knew your words
Your rhymes
Could never pull them
From the fire –
Never show them
The musing of dreams
In the hush –
Never help them
All that is beautiful
In the silence

I will always write the words
The rhymes
Of which you speak – 
Share the musings
Of my dreams – 
Stand in the rain
With my face to the sky
And know
That someday –
Those who could not see
Those who could not feel
Those who were frightened
By the echoes of silence –
Will stand in the rain
With their face to the sky
And in
Solitary moment –
Hear the
Whisper of a raindrop


Of Dawn’s First Blush

Of Dawn's First Blush 2


When I could not see with human eyes
There were visions of the canyons
Stretching through the mountains
To the sea

When I could not hear with human ears
There were strings that played a symphony
That echoed through the valley
In the breeze

When I could not touch with human hands
There was warmth beneath my breast
That flowed throughout the world
In peaceful hush

When I could not speak with human voice
There were rhymes within the silence
Etched into the hues
Of dawn’s first blush

When I could not write with human thought
There were verses never written
Though runes still touched
The hourglass of time

When I could not take a human breath
There were poems still left unsaid
Though my voice will always echo
In the rhyme


The Moment

The Moment

The Moment

It was the moment
I had
Waited for
Wished for
Longed for
Dreamed of
Forever –
And then…
I just stood there
And let it
Pass me by
Like I had
Never waited
Never wished
Never longed
Never dreamed
Of that very moment –

I sat on the curb
Of an empty street corner
Listening to the
Dragonflies laugh –
The sparrows in the willow
Behind my back –
The blue jay
At me
As if I had
Every egg
From her nest –
In the white oak tree
At my head…

I returned to my apartment –
Into the mirror
My own eyes
At the
That stood before them…

……….but it was just a moment…
Lost in time
Like so many
That had come
Before it…

Somehow –
I managed to smile
At my own reflection –
Though a part of me
Had been lost
While standing there
The very
I had
Waited for
Wished for
Longed for
Dreamed of
Walk away
Before my very eyes…

I reached up
And pulled
An acorn
From my hair
And suddenly –
I remembered…..
Life is nuts


Little Things

Little things 1

Little Things

It was early in the morn
Fore the dawn that never was
For I had passed the sunset
Long ago

The moonlight cast its shadows
Neath the pines along the ridge
Where only wings of seraphs
Touch the snow

But I was not mistaken
When the light shined through the trees
Where reason can’t explain what
One may “know”

Truth is always there inside
When stillness brings the sparrow
Where little things in life
Let passion flow

Fore moonlight casts its shadows
Neath the pines along the ridge
You must touch the breeze when
Soft winds blow

Lest you may taste the morning
Fore the dawn that never was
For you had passed the sunset
Long ago