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.


A slender light upon the floor
it waits there in the dark.
It sparkles like a precious gem
in this room so bare and stark.

It holds my secrets and my pain,
it knows my hidden woe.
It is a thing I cannot explain,
it is not for man to know.

Only but one can handle her.
Only but one could care.
To hold her close and make her bright,
he alone can find and share.

I wait and hope for the sight
of eyes that see my heart.
I wait and try to be patient
for this ending to have it’s start.

I wait with her and give her strength,
I gently laid her bare.
For if he is to find my heart,
he must seek to find her there.

dream lover

Dream lover

I know that you have sorrow
And it rides you like a stone.
It makes the weary heart,
hate the world it’s always known.

I know you have that demon,
rides you and won’t let go.
I know you fear the world will judge,
that which you cannot show.

I ask you now to trust,
in what you have no sight to see.
Believe in love, believe in faith,
believe in you and me.

That pain you fear,
that all will see,
cannot pierce this shield.
That which arms are made to hold.
That which love will cause to be.

I see you there and know your pains,
even those you seek to hide.
I am not afraid to take up the sword
and fight along your side.

You cannot know the deepness,
of what my heart feels for you.
You must trust that I am there,
with honor and commitment too.

Be not afraid of time, my love,
for fate will not let you hide.
Do not fear this path you walk,
I’m walking by your side.

The Quirky Chick

She never listens to what is said
to busy making up riddles
to share with her inner child.

She attempts to find the thread of conversation
for she doesn’t wish to offend.
She is sincere in her regard

She is often forgiven
by they who understand
they love her despite her ways
though, they are not quite sure why.

Somehow, they have learned her
and know her heart is pure
though, she is hard to hold,
and harder still to comprehend
they embrace her for her laughter.
She returns their faith with joyful kisses.

One moment they are quite sure
that she is a child inside
when with a flick,the eyes change
and insight rides her tongue like a light
and sets the world on it’s edge.
A tilted view of something oft seen
but never contemplated,
quite the way she sees it.

She stands often on her head
figuratively, (we all hope)
Alice in wonderland…
without the endless corrections and questions
Alice embracing the madness.

She knows herself well,
and is not fooled
she is full of shortcomings,
bad habits,
stubbornness is her old enemy,
and pride makes her a fool at times
but she is joyous
accepting the things she lacks.
Owning them the way she owns her socks.

Who is this woman?
Why do we like her so?
We can never find this answer
for she herself will never know.

His eyes

Deep reflections
Wondering steps
Mysterious pools of laughter
Temptations doorway
Miracles edge
A sweet poem not yet heard

Quiet serenity
Clarity granted
A lonely moment of contentment
A blister of pain, quickly covered
A small quake of passion
A second of worry, a year of pain
An endless questing for answers

I see it all when I look within
his eyes.
those beautiful orbs of light..
and I wonder
I wonder
what he is seeing in mine..
while I am contemplating his



gripping the wheel
I lean forward
I look left
I look right
I prepare to pass
anticipating the horns in my ears
I check the mirror again, and again
I try to stay focused
I try not to let my mind wander
Wow…shoes are on sale
“Look forward woman!”
Whew..that was close.
Must pay attention..
I think I am ready
to start the car.

When I look into your eyes

When I look into your eyes
I see what I desire.
The ebb, the flow
The stop, and go
the integrity of your gaze.

When I look at your hands
I see what brings me  joy.
The big, the small
the love of it all
the sensitivity of your touch.

When I look at your smile
I see what brings me hope.
The soft, the sweet
the quick, the neat
the completion of your kiss.

When you look at me
I see what brings me awe.
The love, the care
the always being there
the finding of my hearts choice.


The pot is singing songs.
The steam is dancing.
The clatter makes up the chorus.
The echo of the knife on wood.
The blender giving whir.

All a part of the symphony
of what the kitchen is
of what the kitchen does.
All good cooks agree,
the kitchen is more then a place to cook
it is a place to simply be.


With hand and heart
I reach for you
I need no other thing.
Some may need a bit of fame
I need what bids my heart to sing.

Some may need their freedom
freedom for me is found in a kiss
freely given, freely sought
a thing I would dearly miss.

Some need bows and paper
to make their spirit fine.
I need only one thing dear
the feel of your hand in mine.

The Voice

I hear you in my head.
I am not sure that it matters
but the words just takes all doubt
and shakes it until it shatters.

Like a presence in my heart
your words just touch me deeply.
For in your words ring truth and light
and that is why they hit so steeply.

I hear you, and you see me
and we never once need rush
for with a grin, a chuckle, a laugh
the world will pause, and hush.

For it is time to talk now
it is time to pause and see
that this is someone I can trust.
Who’s presence makes me free.

i am sad

It makes me sad to realize
that you do not know what you have
in my friendship
you will screw this up
if you are not careful.

You do not know
the gift of it
and will not
until you have lost it
and look to find
that I am gone
and realize
you miss me.

Quite a lot,

a woman’s heart

When a woman gives you her heart
in friendship, love, or affection.

You must seek to see
to really, really, see
the gift that you have been given.

For in a woman’s heart
castles are built
empires destroyed
universes created
and heavens lost.

In a woman’s heart
anything is possible.

She makes things happen
with the power of her feeling.

She does not give up.
She does not forget.
She does what must be done.
She gives all, and gives it
until she is spent.
and broken.

If you love a woman
you sustain her
with a smile
a word
a mere brush of the hand.

She can live off so very little
but deserves so very much.

When you cultivate a woman’s heart
amazing things can grow
and blossom.

Beautiful things that make you gasp,
in wonder,
that such beauty exists
simply because a woman’s heart
loved your heart so well.


When you condemn yourself
in front of me
you steal my right to be angry.

I am not allowed to own my anger.
I am left feeling slightly guilty
and wishing
just once
that you would not preempt me
by going through the cycle
of never ending
diversionary tactics.

Why can I not be allowed
to voice my rightful

I am shut away
with tears in my throat
with words I cannot say.