Tuesday, September 29, 2009

A Poem for Tchaikovsky

hearing it in my mind,
autumn's song played
on a distant piano-
smooth keys
gently touched
by fingers who have known
many seasons...
the passion of summer,
the desperation of winter,
the hope of spring-
now he strokes the ivory
once again,
telling his tale
of yet another red leaf,
another windy afternoon,
another still morning,
another harvest moon...

Monday, September 28, 2009

goodbye kiss-
soft moonlight touches the last
summer roses.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Morning has come just as it does every other day. It's as if the sun doesn't understand that you're leaving. I stand in the doorway, holding our baby girl. Her warm body, still heavy with sleep, is unable to block the early autumn chill from my bare arms. I feel yours slide around us, enveloping us in what the little one calls a "fam-i-ly hug". Kiss. Kiss. Kiss again. I send up a silent prayer for your safety as the car door closes. Then as quickly as the morning came, you drive away...let the countdown begin.
sun rises
tail lights fade
sun sets

Saturday, September 26, 2009

GARAGE SALE

We had a garage sale this morning. My husband, who has never written a poem in his life (except for the ones he was forced to write for a project in the fourth grade) suprised me by writing some haiku! It made my day! I had to help him re-arrange a little because of syllables, but these are his. I thought they were really great! If you are wondering about #2, he is a police officer. #3 is a joke...we sold several books at the sale and he knows that I often use receipts and old photos as book marks...he pretended to be "worried" about someone finding an inappropriate photograph in one of them. He thinks he's SOOOO funny! :) I was very proud of his poetry.


strangers
rummaging, making
a small fortune

familiar cars
familiar faces-people
I've arrested

books new and old
mistakingly hold
a dirty photo

by my husband, Derek (with a tiny bit of assistance from his wonderful wife :)

Friday, September 25, 2009

I tried.
Can't do it.
Brain's empty.

-From the book Love that Dog by my favorite children's/young adult author, Sharon Creech
(This seemed appopriate tonight because it's entirely true... :)

Thursday, September 24, 2009

tears and raindrops fall-
your face floods my mind
at midnight

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Fall Colors

How can "blue" be somber?
Look at my September sky,
whose cornflower turns to sapphire
with a happy sigh...

How can silence be "golden"?
Listen to my October maple,
whose yellow foliage speaks so loudly
and must be heard...

How can little lies be "white"?
Stand beneath my November moon
whose pure, clear light shines down
revealing all that's true...
abandoned tricycle
falls victim to the wind-
first day of autumn

Monday, September 21, 2009

collision
in the night sky
of rain and thunder-
passionate encounter
leaves me breathless...

Sunday, September 20, 2009


twenty-seven years
tucked away inside...
the three in me wants to be held
the fourteen in me wants to pull away
the nine in me wants to show off
the five in me wants to run and hide
the twenty-two in me wants to feel settled
the eighteen in me wants to be free
the sixteen in me wants to feel that first kiss
the twenty-five in me wants it to feel like the last
the twenty-seven in me realizes
that all of these make all of me...

Saturday, September 19, 2009

daytime fades,
leaving me to dream beside
your cold pillow-
December will be
warmer this year...

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

mid-September rain
cools the night with its song-
season's overture
a few amber leaves
soften the path
for bare feet-
trying to remember
where I put my boots...

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

touching you
for the millionth time-
tasting new wine...
(for my husband)

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Rainy Saturday Playlist

voices
some smooth as velvet,
others like rustling leaves-
speaking to me,
singing to me,
preaching to me,
soothing the child in me...
melodies
hovering in the breeze,
like soft, jasmine scent-
breaking me,
holding me,
healing me,
enveloping me with each crescendo...
beats
in rhythm with the rain,
the syncopation in my soul-
rocking me,
thrilling me,
moving me,
taking me to that place...

Thursday, September 10, 2009

I sit and wait,
wondering about the unknown,
the next step-
So much of life is anticipating
what is to come.
Waiting...
for him to come home,
for test results,
for two pink lines,
for the weekend,
for time off and time away...
but time doesn't stop-
We wait, but it marches on,
steps never wavering...
The relentless beat
forcing me to ask myself,
am I missing out
on life waiting for it to begin?
Is it not during those little "intermissions"
that we feel the most?
the most anguish,
the most excitement.
Perhaps if we would learn how to wait,
then we could discover how
to live.
caressing
my skin-
cool rain

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

local weatherman
speaks of thunderstorms
on the horizon-
no sleep in my forecast,
waiting for tomorrow's rain

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

secret passageway
in the dusty corner of
my mind-
old melody reveals
a forgotten room...
I smile and sigh,
keeping it to myself
once again-
a woman's heart
is a deep well.
colors swirl-
seeing the world through her eyes,
each frog is a prince
(Original artwork by my 3-year-old...she has a deep love for all of God's tiny creatures, but frogs are her favorite. She told me that this is a frog stuck on the window. The colorful part is the frog and all the gray is the window. This just made me smile. I love to see the world through her lens of wonder.)




Saturday, September 5, 2009

Moonlight Sonata
echoes from
an old radio-
you break my heart
again and again...

just before dawn,
birds greet the gray morning
in softest song-
first movement,
pianissimo

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

distant train
breaks the silence and
my concentration-
thoughts now heading north
on a one-way track...

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

midnight waltz
of words...swinging, dancing,
gently swaying words-
writing by lamplight
with my thesaurus
soaking
in moonlight-
leaves in the birdbath

so many words...
none of them necessary-
he speaks for himself






oh September...
you have crept in,
leaving only
the ghost of summer, and
stealing my heart once again