A Poet's Haven

One day I heard a voice, so I followed the sound…  It came with what sounded like someone pounding on a door… That was the day I found my way out of that tree… I was a young boy exploring the woods near my home… I remember reading a story about a hundred acre forest……

On a day long ago … I found myself in a poetry group… I decided to walk about and look around… It was a new group only a month or so old… I would throw caution to the wind…. It was that day you look back upon… And you know it was a turning point……

I often wake to the sound of the coffee maker gurglling… As the moments pass the aroma finds me… I learned one morning why she’s up and sitting by the window… I had wondered why she chose to sip her coffee there… One morning I quietly went to another window to see… At first all…

I have learned to savor certain memories… That scent of cinnamon mixing in with bread dough… Together baking in an oven… As a child my Mother baked bread and cinnamon rolls… Those scents drifting throughout the house… In my teens,I worked on boats over the summer… The aroma of fresh brewing coffee permeated the galley……

It all began with a giggle… As a child chasing butterflies… While tripping over my own feet… ~ As I grew older I would catch a glimpse… Of someone dancing between shadows… I was told that it was just a passing cloud… My siblings laughed and teased, my so called foolishness… ~ In time my…

It wasn’t until much later in our relationship…That I remembered something my grandmother said…“ you are one of those people who are drawn to trouble “It is easier to look back and remember how right she was…Trouble, and I were soulmates for sure…Like this photo of her…I know I saw it like a million times…One…

“ Holding back the tears “I find sometimes that it lands in my soul and takes root…I find sometimes that I can not make it go away…I find sometimes that the lyrics to a song…Will play on and on…“ Holding back the tears ““ All those wasted years ““ I keep holding on ““ Nothing…

My lovely nymph tends to blush…When she sees me smilingly staring…I can not help myself, you see…I always tell her how beautiful she is…Today she adorns herself in the colors of autumn..More so the last weeks of summer’s transition…She loses herself in the movements of dance…Sometimes it is more of a prance…Her graceful movements as…

I know it’s rude to stare, or so I have been told…Yet I watched as she spun and danced…To the sounds of this beautiful morning…The crashing waves, and the breeze…As it whispered and whistled in rhythm…There was a time when I moved with such grace…Those days are long gone…The beauty and simple pleasures of movement…I…