A quiet voice on the phone, touching my soul, knowing God has sent her to let me know I haven’t been forgotten, even in the darkest nights of my soul.Appreciation for W. fills me with a gratefulness for the gifts she has shared with me, bringing me back to life.
Slightly blowing – a windy breeze blows gently – barely cooling me off.Leaves and dead blossoms from bougainvillaes scrape across the cement as they are blown around.A little breeze comes sneaking up on me – picking up my hair – cooling my forehead a little.Bees are buzzing lazily around, touching flowers and taking off.A bouquet…
hiding and protecting animals, reptilesand insects with unreserved compassionfor God, Himself.
Scouring the crowd, watching smiles fall about, landing softly, gently in this poem, standing in realms of greatness at Buddy Stubbs.Taking in the entire sound of yesterday, including tours of age-old motorcycles.Young and old, enjoying the beauty of this day, all together being entertained.Solace conforting each of us in individual ways.
waiting to see Dr. L. –someone I can trust to takecare of my medical needs anddo no harm to me.
with rhythms’ incessant playfulness.Gathering every nuance into large bouquetsof poetry.