Moonlight and roses,

Illusion of love.

Grey lace of shadows, soft 

Starlight above.

They call this love, but how can it be?  

When the sun rises,

You can’t even see it anymore.


I am not my roles, they are what I do, 

I am not my gifts, they are a tool. 

I am not my disease, it’s something I have;

Not my flaws, not my Mom or Dad.  

Not my husband, not even my friend;

And my kids aren’t me in the end.  

Who I am is my relation to God, how  he sees me without the  facade.


You examined my heart,

Head cocked; eyes narrow

And I placed it in your hand freely.  

Even your slaps came softly,

Better wounds from a friend…

Eye to eye,  hand to hand.


A Dank puff of smokey dust;

part sweet pipe tobacco,

part decay from the yawning pit

numbers acccumulate,


Faint, trembling words

with a hint of rebuke;

rather reproval.

Try to keep my eyes fixed on the yellowed eyes

when  advice handed over,

they say better to learn from someone else’s mistakes

but my vision is clear and young

so much more capable of seeing the right,

the wrong.

think about you

Sometimes it seems all songs have been sung,

despairs tears been cried,

hopes; dreams all won.

Nothing finds me happy til I think about you.

Heavens and earth still burning cries

and steady love is in disguise;

and life itself is empty til I think about you.

You’re a glittering focus all the time, retried image-


an image sublime to think about you.

Life and circumstance find me jaded

and it’s all just tapestries faded

hopelessness, helplessness,

til I think about you.

Throne room

They stand before the king,

Petitions, complaints-


Benevolent, no details escape Him-

Permitted or ordered,

No one person escapes His notice.

All of heaven does not pursue,

only part, only some of the beloved.

The laments on earth do not fall on deaf ears,

nor do spiteful insults.

Orchestrates mankind,

while one hand cradles

spinning galaxies.