This is where my heart is.  In words, in syllables, in punctuation.  Placed together to build a feeling; construct a vision that leaves the black and white of the page far behind.  These things transform into something real; a three dimensional place where you can be, hide, explore, learn, and know. To the fullest.

I’m welcoming you here.  Stay a while, return often.

Nightwriting, Poems 1 &2

A dream came alive last night
Sprouted lips and breathed into my ear
Caught my attention and panted louder
Spoke faster and frenzied
Became fervent and ignited the stagnant rubbish
Huffed a strong wind and multiplied the flames
Stirred up the ashes and gave me life

Tonight is a thousand lines long
And I know they won’t last until dawn

Each phrase needs to be captured
Each syllable remembered

So I write them down
And I lose sleep
Over all these lines
I just have to keep

An old poem; one that I penned years ago, but every summer I reminisce about its contents.

We lived in an apartment at the time, and life was blissful.  Not that it isn’t now, but when you are free of yard work, have only a small portion of your earnings set aside for rent and utilities, and have much less square footage to clean, you have more time and money and energy for everything else.

At least once a day during this time in our lives, my husband and I would run the roads and paths that weaved in and around our apartment complex grounds.

There is a sweet spot.  A spot where the entire pond is in view, the sun hangs at the optimum level in the never-ending skyscape, the wind blows freely here, and the grass rustles with wonder.

The tangle of streets and sidewalks, and paved paths always comforted me, but this sweet spot was, and remains, dearly treasured.

Some days it gave reassurance that I was halfway done with my run, so I shouldn’t give up just yet.  Some days it pierced me with glorious admiration of God’s creation.  Some days it was shared with friends.  Some days it was taken in slowly as I just cooled down from exercise.  Some days I whispered a prayer here.

One summer day, it was inspiration for this:

Bring Me Peace

Summer 2011
Gentle songbirds
Soothe me
Let me sway to your music
And bring me peace
Weeping willow
Comfort me
Let me swing in your arms
And bring me peace
Daylight shadows
Relax me
Let me lay in your blanket
And bring me peace
Rippling pond
Intrigue me
Let me marvel in your mirror
And bring me peace
Heavenly Breeze
Freshen me
Let me breathe in your fuel
And bring me peace
Stained horizon
Mesmerize me
Let me get lost in your portrait
And bring me peace
Silent grassland
Console me
Let me roll in your kisses
And bring me peace
Dancing moon
Restore me
Let me sleep in your riches
And bring me peace


Inspiration Poem

To: Dad, From: Me

Your obsession with the dishwasher is uncanny,

but now it’s mine too.

Everything you didn’t know you’ve taught me,

seems to show up right on cue.


West Poem.jpg



What if you just keep pretending?
All you are supposed to be
Everything that you are not, really
Assumptions apparent
Hopes abundant
This doesn’t seem so great, all the sudden

What if you were just yourself?
All you can be
Only you can be
Expectations gone
Stereotypes vanished
Would you start to panic?
Skin so delicate, lips turned up loud
They are meant to keep things in,
But now it’s all coming out


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