Delicate Glass

    fine water a lucid glass a delicate touch scented crystal one tear one diamond perfume curl of clear lavender and sheer, soft, in my hand sweet mound of shining tiny boulders lucid ……….pure lu m i n o u s sand    

Grandma’s Sugar Days

  I am a whirling in a yellow dress, outstretched on whimsy breeze, curious feet dangle in mahogany drawers, lost in big hats and shoes, dreaming of a tall lady with red lips and a confident arse. High notes flutter through my gold ribbed fabric, I am singing the wise lines and long leaping smiles. My

My Heart Pocket

I must say thank you  to the wonderful Jennifer Bullis for her inspiring tribute, created in response to a series of art work I did in which I posed the question ‘What Would Fall Out If The Heart Were A Pocket and We Were Each Turned Upside Down?’ Please pop over at her blog Poetry at the

The Chameleon

    In the Apple tree after lunch, he sat. His eyes shimmered and I was a mermaid. I am what you think I am he said to me. I am the sea. I am the shells that shine a maternal pearl. I am the tears that taste the corner of your lips. I am