Category Archives: POETRY PICNIC GOOSEBERRY GARDEN

I AM FOR THE SUNSHINE

I am for the sunshine. . . The sunshine is for me, as I was born upon this earth, though countless creatures, plants and people got here first– from brainy beasts, both wild and tame to one-celled algae floating up … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Spring, Week 12- | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A TEAR IS BUT A TINY SEA OF WATER

A tear is but a tiny sea of water needing to come out. . . to balance whatever fate and circumstance admit– +++++dust. . . ++++++++++disappointment. . . ++++++++++where had been trust. . . +++++++++++++++and countless other kinds of loss. … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Week 20 | 2 Comments

AN END IN SIGHT

An end in sight. . . +++++clear ground ++++++++++just found ++++++++++that peers ++++++++++from under ++++++++++remnant rubble. . . Purpose emerged from blur +++++of fuzzy fog. . . and dreams caught between +++++a slew of warring rainclouds +++++in soggy, windy night. … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Week 8 | Leave a comment

A PERSONAL STAB AT WORLD PEACE

World peace? A tall order. . . so many ones involved, devolved– so many an unnecessary border. . . Is it even possible? when it’s all too commonplace that families split asunder. . . when brother can’t brother forgive? and … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, POETRY PICNIC GOOSEBERRY GARDEN | 1 Comment

STRUTTING DEEPER INTO LIFE

Getting into life deeper and deeper lighter and lighter higher and higher poised between contentment and desire I find answers I stay open I wonder sometimes I inquire I’m getting more discrete and acting ever bolder strutting with growing grace … Continue reading

Posted in POETRY PICNIC GOOSEBERRY GARDEN, Week 24 | 1 Comment

LIVING TO TELL THE TALE

cloth books +++++to please, appease +++++the youngest babes +++++gave way to clock books +++++with hands to spin +++++and set +++++in sundry ways some books there were with golden spines– some told of the olden times. . . some were writ … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, POETRY PICNIC GOOSEBERRY GARDEN, Week 21 | 7 Comments

LEARNING TO COUNT TO SEVEN

Enter the world a babe and mom– hard not to see you as only one. . . growing big, crawling, standing and soon, it’s hard not to see two of you. . . Daddy makes three. The other big kids … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, POETRY PICNIC GOOSEBERRY GARDEN, Week 21 | 5 Comments