even the raindrops
sound happier as they dance
a tarantella





beautiful valley
capturing the whispers of
all my hopes and dreams.




in an ideal world
there'd be no such thing as pain
but i am bleeding



heavy heart
the curtains remain drawn
on a lost world




we're aliens
in their world; yet we walk
and they just can't see

Working at my desk
I am thrilled by the sight of
an owl in the night.


The fog is fading.
The sun breaks through, turning
the sky peachy pink.


February chill
and early morning sunshine
-the winter snoozes.


On top of a bus
overlooking fields and hills.
Nature's masterpiece.


Three hours until dusk
another day almost done.
Silver moon beckons.


My world is at peace
as the sun settles beyond
our quiet garden.


Reaching for the moon.
I'll never, ever give up.
Pen and poetry.
(for Steve)


Where the moon's brightest,
there lies my ambitious dream.
Sleepy eye opens.


Sunday afternoon.
I sit and watch the circus
- birds in the garden.


Glitterazi.
The celebrity's eyes
pierced by flashbulbs.


Foxes in the grass
screeching at one another.
Boisterous greeting.


Illogical beast.
The moth flies into the lamp
burning velvet wings


Late summer evening.
Dry grass begging for water.
Banana shape moon.