My Kitchen Wonderland
The Wild Blue Yonder has nothing on
my slow simmer or stir fry.
Tied as I am to
bread on the rise.
Soup on the boil.
Discovery lives in a pea pod.
Try basting a hot bird.
The Madrona Project 2024
Stained glass sunrise
Casket draped in ivory tapestry
Shot through with golden threads
Blazing scarlet cross for a heart
Rolling down the marble aisle
Organ moans a random tune
Plucked out of a paper pamphlet
Courtesy of an undertaker
Who’s got retired city cop
Written all over him
Big Irish hands
Too small a mouth
Priest robed in glory signals
Stand- Sit- Kneel-Genuflect
All eyes shift to the last old man
Only he knows this routine
A sliver of white bread
Raised up on high
Faithless heads bow
Ears fill with ancient babble
Scribbled by a fanatic
On some dusty desert road tour
Eyes fog with spiced incense
Mouths are sealed in mourning
We breakfast on Hosanas
Written Tales 2023
Big Top Summer
Summer has rolled into town.
Somersaulting on a blue trapeze of unending sky.
Bouncing on nets of cotton candy clouds.
Shimmering Ferris wheel spinning out golden dawns.
Sweet Candy Apple sunsets.
Carnival lights of lavender nights.
Fairground of emerald lawns.
Loop de loop lightning shows.
Thunder cartwheels in,
banging its kettle drum.
Corn popping on swaying stalks.
Piping Calliope of bird song.
Tumbling confetti of butterflies.
Rainbow banners span the midway.
Rising above center ring.
the sun dangles from a golden hoop.
Round and round the sweet days go,
when Summer rolls into town.
Green Tree Ink 2023
Beyond the ocean’s soggy reach
I gathered driftwood from the beach
The radio played a Christmas choir,
while I dried sticks by the fire
Drilled a hole through every one
Reached for the hot glue gun
A dowel helped to build a tower
to form a wooden, leafless bower
Stringing lights round each bough
My little tree began to glow
Driftwood rescued from the sea,
makes a perfect Christmas tree
GreenShoes Sanctuary 2021
McGill The Lobster
I had a pet lobster
his name was McGill.
He lived in a tank,
on my room’s windowsill.
He missed his blue ocean,
where he wanted to be.
I knew in my heart:
he must return to the sea.
We walked to the shoreline,
across the warm sand.
He tried not to pinch,
when holding my hand.
As McGill disappeared
under a wave’s frothy foam,
I could see how happy
he was to go home.
The Toy 2023
Things on wheels are important things
But not as important as things on springs
Let’s then consider things on strings
And all the kinds of fun that brings
I don’t like things that come with stings
I am always up for a thing that sings
I do like things with chimes and rings
Like doorbells that have dongs and dings
But I like best- anything that swings.
Paddler's Press 2023
The Lady In The Hat
I saw her as she crossed the street.
Scarlet heels hugged slender feet.
On her head, tipped to the right,
was perched a hat as black as night.
She balanced it as best she could.
Till a wind arrived to do no good.
It tickled across the fabric's brim,
wiggled up, beneath the rim.
Both hands flew up, to save her hat.
The wind was having none of that.
Hat went tumbling through the air!
Thank goodness she had done her hair.
Off she dashed in a frantic chase.
The wind the winner in this race.
Surrendering at the corner light,
she teetered hatless out of sight.
The Dirigible Balloon
Lost and Found
I thought I’d lost your diary
The one you gave me when we were seventeen
Neither of us knowing then, you wouldn’t see twenty
That an empty balcony would beckon you to its edge
Hushed, rushed burial to lay you in hallowed ground
Solace for a Bronx Irish family from a parish priest
Don’t ask too many questions was thought best
My eyes still scan the façade, seeking some small trace
A blazing red palm print showing where you hesitated
A shining platinum star seared into the pavement
I try to pretend you never really landed
Instead, you leapt into the waiting arms of blue midnight
Who carried you home on broad starry shoulders
Poetry Super Highway 2022
Catching The Moon
I’m hatching a plan to capture the Moon.
I have to be patient! I can’t do it soon.
I think I’ll wait till the Moon is half full,
So it’s lighter to lift when I give it a pull.
I’ll sneak up behind it with an old sack,
stuff it right in and haul it right back.
After I nab it, I’ll tuck it away.
To hide in my closet during the day,
When everyone’s sleeping, I’ll open the door
And spill my moonbeams all over the floor.
Schoolhouse Magazine 2023
Heels dig in, teeth are bared, toes to temples taut
Dominate the middle - the goal that must be sought
Tension thrums tendons in each gripper’s grasp
Champions cling to that rope with an iron clasp
Shoulders bunch, bent knees bow to Earth
The tuggers heave and ho!
The same song pounds in every heart
“Hang tight! Don’t let go!”
An ancient competition where mind is met by might
The goal to win the battle is not just about the fight
Slackening the tension - knowing when to rest,
Is how this game of strength is played by those who play it best.
Some women are April breezes,
wafting across a green lawn.
Swaying crisp white sheets
hanging in the sunshine,
on a country line.
Some women are cold November.
Drafts whispering with damp voices,
through cracks in hollow walls.
Some are the maelstrom leaving,
devastation in their mad wake.
Others, a hot desert wind
that carries the scent of
exotic spice to your tongue.
Some women howl like the North Wind.
Blowing down walls in their path.
Paving the way for a calm day,
where damaging winds
don’t blow and clouds paint
a still life in the sky.
Written Tales 2023
The waxing moon lay in a shroud
Behind a wall of ashen cloud
It was now All Hallows Eve
When the dead rise to grieve
What drove me to this haunted place
Shunned by my fellow human race?
My need to know what lay beyond,
When we break our Earthly bond
On the headstone the inscription read
“HERE LIES ONE WHO EATS THE DEAD”
As I knocked upon that stone,
I prayed what rose was flesh and bone
I shivered madly-held my breath
For my chance to speak with death
I heard a voice call out my name
“I see your soul! Why you came!
You long to hear of Heaven’s heights,
Angel song and blessed sights.
On this night, you’ve roused a fiend
Who feasts on those life has demeaned
I eat the living and the dead
I’m the thing that all men dread!”
My mind cried out in fresh alarm
Why had I dared to tempt such harm?
This ghoul will eat me limb by limb
What madness made me call to him?
My soul will perish in this quest
And never find eternal rest
The face was tattered, rotting skin
The ravaged eyes had sunken in.
Blindly I ran toppling stones
Heard lost cries of rattling bones
A streetlamp lit the way ahead
To lead me from this place of dread.
Each night I quake at midnight’s toll,
Chimes that haunt my cursed soul
For the fiend I woke from its tomb
Will now deliver to me my doom.
Southern Arizona Press &
The Dirigible Balloon