Poetry and micro-stories

The Turtle

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The Turtle
Slow paced in a fast and frenzied world,
she moved thoughtfully through her life
wearing shyness as a shielding armour
from those creatures who hungrily craved
the tender delicacies of her desirable flesh.
Her turtle instincts sensed the stealthy approach
of another of those sly, carnivorous hunters.
She withdrew into the comforting protection
of her shell—her hard, unyielding, fortified defense—
alarmed by the glimpse of a smiling man.
March, 1992 revised January, 2006

The Party Souvenirs

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The Party Souvenirs
Je Suis Enchante
You charm and entertain so well,
I left feeling like a voyeur
catching glimpses of your lives.
A Short Story
I’m sorry there was nothing written
between the beginning and the ending…
except a little pain.
Je Regrette
You were looking for a tequila shot
but all I offered was the salt and lemon of my life.
A Poetry Reading
You didn’t quote your poetry to me
but I read it in your eyes.
Je Me Souviens
kidnapped from my bed…
hit by a look and run…
inspected like a curious antique…
wine and food and fun…
December, 1997

Memories

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Memories
I recall the days of our lost love—
the unspoken days of just waiting
for self-release from our pleasant imprisonment—
the days when silent sadness lay hidden
deep in every haunted laugh…
we mimed our passion then.
I bless those days.
Our love was once turquoise and starlight,
the sound of the flute and the harp,
the embrace of a warm Spring breeze,
mint chocolate and adventure walks.
Our love was once the radiant sparkle
of sunkissed falling snowflakes,
lightning-energized rain on leaves,
joy-singing birds and dragonfly wings.
Our love was once calm, clear water,
the peaceful quiet of morning light,
soft flower showers, silent talks,
cozy comforters and children’s laughter.
I bless those days.
April,1999 revised May, 2004

Into the Candle’s Glow

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Into the Candle’s Glow
We dine by candlelight.
Then I stare into the candle’s glow.
Entranced, I slip away and lose myself
to a loving, mystic awareness.
I am the silent beauty of the candle
whose inner core overflows with melting joy
as it stands crowned
with flame of jewelled light—
I am the candle and the flame
and all that rests upon this table of life—
even the subtle fragrance
and quiet dignity of the deep red rose
that leans, enchanted, toward the candlelight…
as now I see, so do I.
Then I smile at my beloved, who smiles
with wondering eyes at me.
January, 1997, revised April, 2004 January, 2006