Busy Man

I know he is a busy man
with much to do and be
so I will just sit here quiet
and let my head peep just so,
round the door,
so he may see me…
should he pause
and need a moments

I know he is a busy man
with much to take his eye
so I will pause here
and admire the flowers
and wait
for when he needs a moments peace.

I will point out all the newly grown leaves
he has missed
and give updates
on all the gossip
chattered by the birds.

I know he has much to do
he works hard to make his way
he is happiest buried in thought
and I am content
to sit here with a smile
should he need one
to coax his own out
from hiding.


Obscene silly

I wonder why my belly button
does not talk
it would be highly amusing I think
and then I rethink
and realize
he would probably have a problem
shutting up
and no one needs that
at 2 am.
now does one?

I wonder why my hair
thinks turning grey
is funny
It has a very bad sense of humor
which I suppose
is exactly the point
in some sarcastic way
that hair has
and I am immune
to understanding.


I’m sorry

I am sorry

for I know what will come to be

you will slowly tear my heart

and eventually

the pain of the shredding

will make me run away

to save myself from the pain

and you will be shamed

and worried

and wonder why you did it.

Then one day

quite without your knowledge

your heart will tear

and the pain of the shredding

will make you cry out

and you will wonder

why it is hurting you so very badly.

You will wonder why you are pacing

why the things you once found so pleasing

have no thrill or joy

you will wonder what your problem is

why you cannot concentrate

and then one day

quite by accident

you will happen upon some bit of me

left behind

and your heart will tear

and you will know

you will know

you will know

that what you had

you valued cheaply

never realizing

it was your own love

you were devaluing.

and you will know

you will know

you will know

that the shame you felt

was for your own betrayal

of your own heart

mocking you.

The me I use to be

There is a girl that I use to be

she still lives here inside of me

with a wry grin and twinkle to see

she was wild, and she was free.

dancing in the bedcovers

twirling in the curtains

making shadow puppets dance.

with glee she saw the world

through eyes that had seen much

but chose

to see more.

she is there

and will not be ignored

she demands to be heard

to play, jump, and sing

to make funny faces

and quirky plans

she is me,

she is me,

she is the me I use to be.

Lover’s wisdom

You would be wise

not to mock my love,

or treat it as a trifle.

For should you toss my heart

like confetti,

onto the floor

and disregard my soul.

You will encounter

some, far distant day

the Karma of fate’s

silent regard.

For no love is ever wasted,

no love is ever given in vain.

Love is not amused,

when she sees her gifts returned

and when angered she reacts

in subtle and painful ways.

So, be wary, when you turn from me

to set my heart aside with care,

for though you may not want my love,

the true test of your heart will be

how you treat it with respect,

in giving it back.

I’m open

I’m ready for that smile now Lord.

That kiss that says “Are you my one?”

That hand that is held out with trepitation.

I long to see that shy look

pointed at me.

I will take great pleasure

in calming that nervous man

in showing him he is not invisible to me

In making him aware

that I like him

warts and all.

I am open

to love…

Finally, I am who I respect.

and in finding my own love

can appreciate it when it is offered

to me.

I pray

I bow my head and pray

and ask God to make them happy.

To help them find their path

They need me you see

they always need me

to guide

to listen

to understand

but I am not the same as they

I do not ask for what I need

I will not speak

I will not tell them

They need me to be strong you see

and weakness is not something

they can afford to see in me

so I sit alone in the dark

and let the walls comfort me

it is too familiar a feeling

I am whisked away to my youth

and reminded of that room

with the sloping walls

the walls that heard me weep

and pray

 that they will find their peace

that they will find their path

cause they need me

they need me

they need me

to be strong

so I hide here

and pretend

that I really am strong

does God hate me for lying?

Because there are robins

because there are robins,
harbingers of spring.

because there are robins,
that hush and take wing.

because there are robins,
with gentle peeping eyes.

because there are robins,
the heart gives pause, then sighs.

because there are robins,
with the wind at their backs.

because there are robins,
one forgets what she lacks.

within the pause of day,
robins come to say,
give thanks, give pause, find peace.

go within and see,
all that can, and will one day be.

because there are robins,
because there are robins,
because there are robins,
to see.

The she inside this skin

The she inside this skin.

Looking out my eyes

peering at the world

with calm regard

and firm resolve

always to do it better

than the last attempt she made.

She will examine.

she will question.

she will not sit still

and let life come to her.

she will make life come.

she will do the work

prepare the way

set a soft place exactly

where she knows the thing will fall

she will know

because she will spend the time

measuring and researching

until the intuition takes hold.

she is not often wrong

though you may attempt

to use your words

to deflect

to confuse

to stubbornly insist

in the end

she will do

as she will do

and to your surprise

somehow she will be correct

though you were quite certain

she couldn’t possibly find a way

she will not say a word

she will not explain

that while you were busy talking

she was busy planning.

She knows more then you think.

She is a goat

who makes her nimble way

with head down

and feet planted

in the end

you either see the truth of her

or walk away

shaking your head


The wall

What is it like I wonder,
to stand so still, like a wall with large pieces missing?
To lean ever so slightly, yet refuse to fall?
Not out of fear of the unknown
you do not know how to fail.
Do you understand my message?
My offer to be your wall, to be your missing brick?
Do you hear my tears as they fall?
I will not refuse to lean.
I will lean upon you.Thus I will solve your secret flaw.
for not being able to lean
I lean into you.
I will be your support
I will be that which allows you strength.
I will hope that each brick that falls
falls gently from you.
and pray each day
and each night for rain, for sun
for stars and crickets.
Until time comes and goes
like a silent thief
this is natures way.
A bit of green, a mass of vines
to bind these walls together
we two
and when time ends
that strange new day
the maker will take a walk through his garden
It is my hope, my dream, my solemn wish
that he pause upon the sight
of two walls old
and broken in places
covered in vines to bind them
one to the other.
leaning ever so gently toward each other
as if they are sharing secrets
as if they know something
as if they belong to each other
like drops of rain that cling together
I wonder at your strength
and I know you refuse to fail
lean toward me
lean toward me
I will hold you tall
even if I must bend
to meet you
For I love your strength
and I love your weakness
I love your hidden secrets
We are as time eternal
and as it passes I pray
old wounds will fade away
never to be seen again.

The invisible gem

You look at her and wonder how

that special way got inside her

how did she became this spirit you see?

how did God create

such delightful combinations

that tickle and tease

that puzzle and please?

how did the world discover her

like a gem left somewhere silly

to be found by a mere simple man

who took the time to look

and in spying her there

cupped her gently

in his palm

you look at her and wonder

not realizing

that in her thoughts

she is wondering the same

about you.


I am told by fate

that I must wait,

and though I understand

it is hard to see

my dream

dangling before me,

and know,

that I must not reach

until it is ready

to fall into my hand.

I must not hurry,

what nature must prepare

with trial,

with growth,

with time,

and I cannot be greedy.

For I know I would not want

what is not ready for my touch,

but it is hard

not to reach,

and hard not to worry

that somehow I will miss the timing

and my dream will fall,

 leave me in tears


I know I am being foolish

for I will not miss my chance.

Fate is checking me

for sincerity,

and willingness to learn.

Fate is no fool.

She knows I will not cherish

what I have not struggled

to deserve,

to respect,

to appreciate, and accept.

For you are not perfect

and I must set my eye,

on your imperfections,

as well as your charms,

and learn to like them

for what they are,

and not,

for what they are not.

fate is wise,

but I am impatient.

I wait here

and try

very, very, hard

not to reach

too soon.

I work while I wait

and curse under my breath,

hoping fate does not hear me

but certain she understands.

cause it’s hard

not to reach

and my arm is itching

to try

You are the sun

You are the sun
Trying to peek into
the dark corners
of every shadows curve
wanting to shed only light
and illuminate the weary world
and in some small way
bring it peace
You are the sun
with your warmth and fire
and searing gaze
seeing all that comes
and all that has gone
lighting the pathways before us
even when the fire is fading
inside you
Darkness dogging your steps
you flare up each day aknew
with renewed passion
and unquenchable warmth
ready to bring the light again
trying despite the clouds
to brighten the greyness away
and in some small way bring
the tender shoots of sunshine
into the darkened corners of others


where does it come from

this love?

Is it a spark that you get at birth


like a nose or chin


family members who have come before?

is it a lesson?

taught the way we are taught manners?

Is it simply the gift

of our parents regard?

What then of they that are not gifted by loving people?

 are they doomed to sadness

forever more?

or is it something more?

something illusive,

fleeting, and never still

only coming rarely to rest

on one it deems worthy?

or is it, as I think

a reflection as from a mirror

broken or unbroken

according to it’s care?

Do the broken ones hide away

certain they are unworthy?

tarnished and forgotten

their silver fading?

Do they cover themselves in shame

thinking their sight unworthy of the light

that comes from loves bright glow?

do they feel the light?

do they know the love?

that covered they cannot see?

thinking in error

that covered they will not be futher broken?


4 letters

meaning so very much.

I think on this thought

and resolve

to be a mirror

that finds those that are covered

and ask to be parked nearby

until one day they peek

out of their cover

and see…me


to reflect something

they never thought to see

I will seek them out

for some mirrors

deserve to find light

but fear it

so I will wait

for them to feel secure

in me.

I am a patient person.

I will wait.

Some people

are worth waiting for


4 letters

defined by a heart

given wings

by patience.



sometimes you get mad at me

for this quirk that I have

to check, check, and check again

my motives and reactions.

It makes you roll your eyes

and wonder

why I am so picky.

I cannot explain

any more than you can understand

my need

to know I am being true,

that I am being fair,

that none of my funny business

of being proud or vain

are interfering with the work

I want most in life to do.

I examine myself daily

for always I must appear

the proper lady

though secretly, I know

I am more vain and selfish

than I admit.

While you roll your eyes at me

and wish I would just be

instead of always, always,

trying to improve upon

the me

that others see.

Gentlemen who are gentle

Gentlemen who are gentle.

a gentleman pulls out chairs

holds doors open

holds a woman

when she cries

helps her hide her face

until composure is recovered

A Gentle man

is quite a different sort

though they both are kindred souls

a gentle man

sees beauty

seeks peace

wants love

and cultivates 

acceptance and kindness

it is his very air.

The gentleman knows the gentle man,

they respect and adore each other.

and on some rare occasions

a miracle man is born

a man with gentleness within him

who has been taught 

to be a gentleman.

God bless the parents

who raise their men to be

 these 2 things




I twist and turn my head away

you must not see my pain

this tangled thing

I call my soul

each day I lay it bare

in hopes that while I contemplate

the tangles there within

that I might somehow find a way

to make it whole again

interweaving lines of things

felt, known, and sometimes shown.

Then, today, my big surprise

I was looking so hard

that I missed your calm regard

as you gently

laid your hand upon my shoulder

and begged me let them go

let the lines tangle

fixing is not needed

for this is what a soul looks like

when it is learning

about life, pain, and struggle

you ran your fingers through my hair

you had seen me all along

And so I gave a sigh

for I know

you are the brightest tangle

I shall ever know.

Anna May Rose

I have a name inside my heart
she waits patient for me there.
She is the child I wait to have
with the one who will love and care.

She will be a dreamer,
a giggle making mop.
She needs a dad who will give his heart
and a love that will never stop.

She needs a dad who will not pause,
to hold her when she cries
with little regard for clothes or rules
but much attention to whimpers and sighs.

He must be the kind of man
who knows where dragons dwell
who can delight her with his laughter
and the many stories he would tell.

He  must be the kind who will give
attention to little ones who call
who will love me just as much
as the child waiting down the hall.

I  have a man inside my heart
we wait paitiently for him there
he is the one we want to have
to give all our love and care.