I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')
Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.)
They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your posts as much as possible.
that the nature spirits called fairies are really real,
and having a hard time trying to look after the planet,
he wrote a book for children so they would know too,
and know that we need to make spaces
in polluting and destroying our home environment.
He was a wonder. His last night at home,
before he collapsed and went to hospital,
I came down with a nasty cough.
He could barely stand, yet he stood
behind my chair to lay his hands on my shoulders.
He still had the best Reiki hands.
Our friend Letitia, who knows these things,
had him picked as an earth angel.
He was feisty and funny (an angel is not a saint)
but one way and another he was in service.
He had a long talk with his daughter since passing over.
He told her he's helping young people. That'd be right.
Submitted for Wonder Wednesday #17 at Poets United This seems to me very prosey and in need of more work (though the slanginess is on purpose) but to meet the prompt I need to post this draft now. All poems here are subject to the possibility of change.