• Artistic License

    Perhaps this is the way Picasso got started,
    as a baby sitting in a high chair, dumping
    the dish and the cup, the fork or spoon onto
    the floor, delighting in how the green peas... more »

  • Backseat Driver

    What would I do if I didn't have you
    You're so full of wisdom that you can see
    All my faults and fallacies
    And splay them out in front of me... more »

  • Breakfast Is Served

    Toasted English muffins spread with peanut butter and grape jelly,
    a simple meal, it is all I have to offer.
    I pour you the last few ounces of orange juice, knowing as I do
    that you prefer to drink your fruit,... more »

  • In The Photo

    In the photo my mother is beautiful.
    Though it is in black and white,
    I picture her cheeks rosy as pink Chablis.
    Her hair cascades thick and wavy to meet... more »

  • Just Beyond The Softest Sound

    The roses on my table appear to be singing,
    so sure of themselves and their beauty.
    Both proud and arrogant they break into song
    the minute they are alone, when they think... more »

  • My Dentist

    My dentist knows my mouth intimately.
    And, like any man who recognizes a lover
    across a crowded room, merely by her stance
    or the way she tosses her hair, my dentist... more »

  • My Prince Charming

    I'm looking for a man, a prince of a man. He
    doesn't have to be knockout gorgeous like
    the one who bedazzled Cinderella, nor does
    he have to be as tall, dark or handsome as... more »

  • Pushing For Texas

    Before the actual birth, I tried to convince myself
    there could be no room for fear. That in fact, the
    only way I was going to get through this and come
    out smelling like a rose was to keep my wits about... more »

  • Sentimental Journey

    Home again ... arising early I wander through
    my parents house, searching for memories.
    In the pantry are the small clear glasses,
    handpainted with tulips. Instinctively I lift... more »

  • Spell Check

    My body is no longer the flawless manuscript
    most men would take time out of their busy day
    to read; no longer as exciting as the latest novel,
    nor as interesting as the daily news.... more »

  • Sunday Donuts

    My grandmother made donuts every
    Sunday morning, dumping memorized
    ingredients into a crock mixing bowl,
    punching down the malleable mass... more »

  • War In Secret

    I don’t know much about war,
    at least first hand I don’t.
    But in my neighborhood,
    when I was a child,... more »

  • What A Surprise

    to see you as I was getting off work.
    You stopped by, you said,
    for a cup of coffee.
    I smiled as the words... more »

  • What Matters

    Early September and the leaves are falling,
    they crunch beneath my feet
    as I walk the dogs through the park.... more »

  • What Were They Thinking?

    Some people are so naïve. Take for instance,
    Little Red Riding Hood. There she is, skipping
    through the forest, which she knows is inhabited
    by dangerous animals, wearing a scarlet cloak.... more »