I saw a woman walking, In the rain one day. She hadn’t an umbrella, As she went along her way. When the sun came out, I saw not hide nor hair, But when the sky turned gray, She was always there. I wondered at her actions, And so I asked her why. She said, “OnContinue reading “Walking in the Rain”
A combination of Caturday and National Poetry Month
My novel “Tell Me No Secret” was released last week and it contains rather dark subject matter. In keeping with that theme, this poem may not be appealing to all readers.
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Angelic messenger addressing the blessed Mary, aware of the heir she carries in her Womb. There’s no room for whom is proven to be our King. He’ll end dominion of sin and then we’ll sing Of his glory. We’ll orate the story Each year, cheering “It’s here!” but we’re Drifting. Sifting through gifts, not upliftingContinue reading “A Poem for Christmas”
Zak playing “Mr. Claws”
No one wanted to attend the soiree, yet curiosity compelled them to make an appearance. Regret gnawed at some of them, but it was too late to back out. Sitting around the room of antique furniture and ornate decor, everyone was uncomfortable; that is, everyone but the host. Vlad seemed very much at ease havingContinue reading “Dinner Party”
I came out of the closet today. I’d been trying to blend in for so long, hanging around with others like me, but still feeling like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I always thought it was obvious–the flashy colors, my style, the way I carried myself. It was just the way I wasContinue reading “Coming Out”
If someone presented you with a gift, would you say anything? Of course you would. You would say phrases like “Thank you” or “You shouldn’t have” or “I love it!” Writers give the gifts of their words, their stories, poems, expressions of thoughts and emotions. I’m always grateful when someone shows their appreciation for myContinue reading “To Follow or Not to Follow…”
Born from the earth in el huerto de calabazas, Cucurbita awaits the choosing–la seleccion. She will soon be ready for the children. They will see her and fear her, as they should. “That one,” the dark-haired doctor says, pointing at Cucurbita. “That one will be perfect.” She is not perfect yet. She knows this toContinue reading “Dia de los Muertos”