Worker of words don’t blame her –

It is every ladies fantasy to find a poet who can encase her so perfectly in writing.

To feel so worthy of being placed in words so all may see her for all of eternity.

I know at least for me this will never be, and this is okay with me.

For in my heart of hearts I know I am not worthy of such arts.

Words flow but they hardly come and go.

I have never been one to sit and stay so the lines of a page for me are a cage and would only bring dismay.

Perhaps this is why I will never be placed into a grave…


Sing my soul into a song so I may dance with the leaves in a cool eve’s breeze for all to hear throughout the years.

Graveyard Angel

Graveyard angel

Tears of darkness trickle down her once glowing now grey face.

She always knew this world was never her place.

Once lustrous wings of hopes and dreams hang tattered and heavy with pain and regret.

The world pulses around her and yet no one sees… she no longer breathes.

So many pages written in an ink that once flowed.

Such pretty poems filled with words she just couldn’t say in the darkness of the day.

Scattered around on the ground, yellow and crumpled now only fertilizer for the grave.

And she thought we could have been saved…

Lady Wind – Morning Muse 1/23/2018

As a sigh, she twirls and swirls passing by without even batting an eye.

Collecting little last breaths here and there.

Growing stronger she hits you square in the chest for just a little rest.

Capturing her in your arms and she will surely die.

Set her free and she will dance across the sky.

Taking your breath away,  leaving you never to see another day…