Her voice is on the breeze on the Eve of resurrection Siren calling love back into life. She is my devotion. glowing in the darkness as she echoes through the spaces in my mind. She is my tiny dancer… I yield and let her dance me… moving with the rhythm of her tides. She is…
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Venus in the Basement
…. I found her in your basement Drowning in dust Obscured by the archives of your past. …. I asked you about her but you didn’t say much just kind of shrugged and brushed it off …. One night, you drove us in She glowed brightly in your beam …. Such familiar relegation don’t you…
Frozen Moments
With the cocks crow,
I feel the abrupt transition
From the spaciousness and peace of twilight to the harsh glare of day.
An unwelcome prelude to the bustle of locals and tourists going about their business…
A small, mottled cat arrives beside me and rubs against my leg…
As if she senses at once,
My aversion to human company and my need for affection.
Celebrate the Night
“So often our ‘New Age Hangover’ still has us tending to equate love with only light.”
If She Screamed…
“A woman is the barometer for harmony and true beauty is the courage to be vulnerable…”
The Sound of Her Voice 