Poetry, sunday whirl


sunday whirl : wordle 232

there’s not much left
a small loss here
a slap that stings there
angels watching
shiver from the cold

some days pass
with little pause
counting scars
instead of stars
there’s so much to remember

love gasps at sleeps escape
desire dials a different dream
darkness snare gathers no dust

notes to self: the real dark side of family and the holidays … thank goodness all has passed…

magpie tales, Poetry


magpie tales no 299

fresh and new
we were there

open fields blue skies
we kissed the world hello

today a photo revives
that day that surrender

kismet we were
firmly planted

drenched in seduction
the sense of serene surround

there was you
in front of that shop

on that day
we were fresh and new

notes to self: amazing how a photo captures… regardless of time it’s there… no fooling nobody… thinking it fads… as a prairie dog lifting up its head… 

Poetry, sunday whirl, wordle


sunday whirl: wordle 227
photo: white owl, autobon society

with winter wings
naked clarity stalks

searing silent echoes
lurking anamnesis whistles

a red river flies
flowing fast and free

wary world floating
a want walks away

towards the open plains
inside the wind blows

small writings….. staring out an open winter window, an image stood clearly of one room full of adventure as if  taking a leisure stroll through one’s life in a snapshot.

Poetry, sunday whirl, wordle



sunday whirl wordle no 219

i swear i know every single one
the familiar flush
the perfect press of weight
just enough to claim quietly

the list is long
written in lovely left lingo
only to share with you who know
know the nexus of never-Neverland

who comes to call and collect
that wilderness wind
who whinnies in whispers
tender time, no threats, breathless talk,