Thursday, July 10, 2008



A pitter-patter

of loves wee feet

without clatter.


a skitter-skatter

of words so neat

that nitter-natter.


a teeny-tiny

feather's brush

sleek and shiny.


a tippy-toeing,

a teardrops touch,

warm and flowing.


a thumpety-thumping,

a beating heart,

the life force pumping.


a dripping-dropping

when lovers part

and heart is stopping.


a slippery-slipping

of hands withdrawn

when lovelight's dipping.


a chitter-chatter

for love is gone

and life can't matter.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008


Art's in the eye of the beholder (or so I've heard)
But everyone hasn't gotten the word.
What to one eye has added a beam,
To another there is no gleam.

For opinions are alimentary
They're something everyone has.
What to one is praise elementary
To another is so much gas.

But remember: artists are fragile.
For the most part they work for praise.
And no matter if the critic is agile,
Down will be down in a daze.

Art should be studied and enjoyed.
No matter the style or skill.
From everything you can be buoyed.
And from everything you will......

If the next time you view a piece,
(Presuming one comes down the pike)
You accept it with awe and ease;
And not: "I know what I like."

ACEO's On Ebay

ACEO's are art cards 2 1/2 x 3 1/2 inches. They can be either originals or prints. Here are a few I have posted on Ebay. And a link to one of them. They seem to be scattered all over since I haven't learned all of the system yet.

My items on eBay

Tuesday, July 8, 2008


Who's right,
Who's wrong,
sings the song
of many a wordy sage.

When faced with life
and all it's strife
they're stuck
on that archaic page.

It matters not who's wrong,
who's right,
when all
is said and done.

What matters in the end
and this is true, my friend,
is who is still standing,
and with integrity, has won.

Monday, July 7, 2008


I sit at my window watching

can't do anything else since
trying to fly from a bike....
collarbone and shoulder blade

Recuperating, I sit and watch
from my cottage window
the old landlady as she goes
to and fro, on her way.

Visitors come and she
greets them in the patio,
at a table under an umbrella...

Never inside, oh no...
Never inside.

They come and she meets,
comes out with packages,
and they leave with same.
Always the same,

They come, she meets,
gives packages and they leave.
Never inside, never inside.

Rent day comes and I
knock upon the screen door
in the rear.

I call out.
No answer.
The door is not locked,

in I venture, calling,
and stepping into the kitchen...
I see.....

bags all over the floor.
on the table, on the fridge.
bags, with a narrow path
leading to the front,

which I take, calling.
Dining room...
bags all over
living room, calling,
bags on every flat surface
to be had.

filled with.... beauty items!
On every table, chair, all over the floor,
filled with....soap, lotions, perfumes,

all peeking out of the top and...
the only thing competing for my attention
is the overwhelming smell of CATS.

Permeating the house is the all pervading aroma
of cat piss, etc.
They creep between the bags,
meowing happilly in their jungle of...

There is a path leading to the stairs
going up, but...
I'm not about to venture there.
I backtrack quietly....

musing upon the reason
she never brings anyone

They come and she goes in.
brings out things from her
bags, and they go.

From one end of the house
to the other and probably

To this day...whenever I start
accumulating "stuff"
and it seems to pile up,

I must clean it up,
throw it out,
get rid of it,
before I become an ....

Avon Lady.


The first stirrings
yes a touch
ever so slight
but there, nevertheless.

A squirm
a glimmer
a moment
of conception.

Then the wait
endless it seems
but you know
fruition will come.

And it does
with pain
agony it seems,

But come it does
kicking, writhing
into the world

And then.....
as I gaze fondly....

at my new poem...

The offspring of my soul.