Category: Poetry


In the storm that rages all around,
I am, the figure standing tall.
I am, not swept away by squalls.
My feet are firmly planted,
the roots run to the core.
I will not topple,
though some do not see,
they cannot see,
until,
the flash of light,
and for a moment,
they do.

             
                                                         
                                                              
                                                                                               
A                                     lone                                petal                 
                                                                                                  
                survives                                                                                                                
                                   the    
                                    
                                      storm...                                         
       

Painted toes
reveal her mood,
bespeckled flecks,
a Swedish brew;
singing to the 9,
a midnight tune;
dreams gone
astray,
moments too
soon, wondering
in the night,
will he be
all right?
Tossing and
yearning,
inwardly
burning, of
days gone
by- secretly
hurting.

Late-night Forays