collision

in the night sky

of rain and thunder-

passionate encounter

leaves me breathless...

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...

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

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...

touching you

for the millionth time-

tasting new wine...

(for my husband)

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...

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

local weatherman

speaks of thunderstorms

on the horizon-

no sleep in my forecast,

waiting for tomorrow's rain

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.)

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

distant train

breaks the silence and

my concentration-

thoughts now heading north

on a one-way track...

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