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.

Milky Way

Her skin itches

unbearably tight

in the day’s light

Coming not so soon

is the moon

bathed in the darkness of the night

In the wane light

She tears the facade away

layer after layer

revealing that which flows beneath her skin

Now all can see

the stars within her

burning so very brightly

Dancing in the Down Pour

“The storm is within all of us, to prevent it is to only help it grow, to end it one must only let go…”

Pushing past him with arms wide open she walked into the heavy rain.

Laughing as the thunder roared and rumbled deep within her soul.

Each flash of lightning leaves a singeing kiss upon her skin.

Still, she dances in the downpour hoping it would wash away her fears that she holds so near to her heart they threaten to tear it apart.

A small piece of a larger work in progress…