The Daffodil and Me

Buried deep in the earth
surrounded by fertile soil
a cycle of moisture
and warmth from
an unseen source above

Encouraging the tiniest of stretches

Baby roots begin
to reach while
grounded- In chorus,
ready to follow
an unknown path

The hard work of
seed to sprout-
The patience of
bud to flower
while weathering storms

Until the sun affectionately
lifts her lovely face
toward the sky
begging the question

What comes next?

This poem is from my collection The Space Between Clouds.

Simply Sunday

IN THE CLOUDS

Posed on a calm
quiet breeze
or shouted
in frantic storms
the question remains the same

Do you see me?

My soul longs
to slow down
to be still
Locking my eyes on
the whole of you

Do you see me?

Recognizing the purpose
provided in your design
whether serene or inclement
Answering your question
as you answer mine

Yes! There you are! I see you!

Simply Sunday

CLEANSING RAIN

Cold, heavy rain falls
No end in sight
A constant hum
forcing quiet
contemplation

The sound of troubles
being washed away
Cleansing the
Cluttered
Landscape

Reminding my heart
even while we live
under the same sky
our needs vary place
to place, day to day

If this day found you
weary, parched or hollow
May it leave you
refreshed, quenched
and overflowing


I am grateful for the opportunity to share my poetry this afternoon at Tidewater Winery in Drumright, OK. I wanted to share one of the poems I will be reading with you.❤️

I have been absent from WordPress lately- just life- and have missed reading your words. I plan to get back in a routine soon.


Simply Sunday

Some days call for revisiting, revising, and then sharing again. Today is one of those days. Sending Love. 💙

Living Kindness

Thirst quenched
with a cup
of cool water

Hunger eased
with a tasty
morsel of food

Fears calmed
within the warmth
of safe shelter

Hands in
desperation
seeking to survive

Hands in
kindness
seeking to share

Hand to heart
Heart to hand
Soul to soul

Doorways opened
Pathways cleared
Kindness lived out

Simply Sunday

Little Lights

I remember catching them as a child-
We called them lightning bugs

Our own personal lanterns
inside glass canning jars

We poked holes in
the metal lids so
they could breathe

Our innocent attempt at compassion

Still, there was a strange
sadness seeing them
up close, held captive

Perhaps because lights,
ours and those belonging
to the lightning bugs, are
meant to shine as we are going

Felicitous Fissure

A heavy haze dimmed
the morning sun-
Smoke from distant fires

Your sudden appearance
displayed a momentary
ray of light

A welcome distraction
from the dusty horizon

I thought you were alone-
Standing, innocent,
out in the open

The lovely green field
a perfect contrast
with your soft tan coat

Then I saw the other-
Your sibling, perhaps?

Barely visible, camouflaged
by a patch of tall grass,
as if hiding

An early morning game
of hide-and-seek?

Do soft, tan fawns
play hide-and-seek?

The thought causes me
to smile as I
continue driving

Hopeful I will soon
break through the
gauzy veil threatening
to steal my breath

An unexpected fissure
begins to form as I
imagine you hopping
into the tall grass-I found you!

Simply Sunday

Some days were made
for cloud watching

Days when light and
shadow compete at
such an intense level

They almost
overwhelm
the imagination

Those days when the world is moving so fast

And it feels impossible
to slow
down
and
breathe

Look up! Make it a day
for cloud watching
And if the clouds are few,
close your eyes and dream

Rhetorical

Baby clouds fade into
the dark midday sky

Ruminating on
the abandoned
wasteland below

I wonder if the clouds
noticed children
playing in the ruins?

I wonder if the world noticed?

Echoes of war mute
all signs of life. Only
children make an attempt

What if the world
saw them in the heart
of the destruction?

Would reactions be
powerful enough to
soften hardened souls

To finally protect the
innocent long enough
to clear away the rubble

We all know the answer
As do the clouds

We have seen the children
No longer playing
No longer living

And the rubble remains

Simply Sunday

Simply Sunday is back! I participated in an author event yesterday, and several friends stopped by. 🩷

Inviting

It has the power
to convey a lifetime
Transcending years past

Instant recall
of sweet memories
as well as difficult days

Its beauty lives in the eyes
The way they twinkle,
glimmer with tears

A message
Clearly conveyed
I see you, I remember

And sometimes,
that sweet smile
acts as a magnet

Connecting past with
present, offering
hope for the future

Surprise Parade

Baby clouds dot
the afternoon sky
Reminding me of a
playground full of children

I wonder if the clouds noticed
The parade of geese this morning?

Adults noticed-
I’m certain of that!

Cranky car horns honked,
unintentionally joining
The naturally humorous
noise of such a procession

What if children witnessed the parade?
Would their laughter influence

Reactions powerful enough
to transform the noises of
impatience, anger, and greed

Enticing wearied souls
back to the carefree
wonder of childhood

At least long enough to enjoy
a morning parade of geese