faithful diarist aspiring to be poet. Vassar College graduate, retired
Federal Government bureaucrat, published photographer, poet and
proud Granny. Happily residing in Blue Ridge Mountains with retired
photographer-lapidary jack of all trades husband, five snakes and
two ferrets who have literary aspirations of their own.
contact June at firstname.lastname@example.org
The birches pine for you
The junipers spruce up
A wooded warren fuses with Cedars in Lemons
Nothing has more potential
than sap flowing peacefully down
this pleated eager bark of an arm
that wraps around my blasting heart
Oh, the weather here is so nice
I feel I have inalienable rights
to all your parts
Me, a twig bent too young and split too dry
In flames of nerves running wild
torched by imaginations now in ashes
Such gentleness contradicts your brief appetites
I cuddle to your touch
Poet laureat of great images
We have such look alike perspectives
I am touched by your mortality
I snapped intact.
To take this path
to live in these circumstance
Storming our tangled lives
resistant like sturdy vines
to make sense of our twisted beginnings
to prepare for our novel ending
Skirting the signs for skinning and tendernesses.
I am growing in defiance and for unknown reasons
More modest, more sensitive
Words, like cut outs, cover my heart
Worth more than tulips in bouquets and
Prized for its French Fry and roses-
An amazing spud or bud.
Coincide with me anyway
Carve your initials between your fact and my fiction
Show me your desires; I will show you my star dust
Grow rings around my trunk
And serve this innocent misunderstanding with trinkets.
Pass the glow
Lie around dreaming
spread yourself thin
Bon Ideas like apparitions
Scaring me silly.
In dialogues I'd never had before
I care more about you than me
A new phenomena
In my self-pitying.
Copyright © 1999. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Duplication of this
poetry and/or art without permission of the author/artist is forbidden
under copyright law. Please ask permission if you wish to use for
Updated: October 2, 2000