poem: crossing the waters
she is crossing the waters
she rides a willing lily-pad
she travels to meet her nat-spirit
her mother's guide and protector
as her mother's mother before her
the women of the family know him well
he teaches love and wisdom.... and gives
peace to their hearts,
their understanding souls

she brings an offering
to a tiny nat-house on the shore
tucked into the green, seen only
by the women who love him

clear eyes downcast
smooth face expressionless
a bud not yet flowered
she floats, a slim green slip
calling soft prayers to him
respectful, graceful

she is seeking an answer_
her mother wants her to marry
still a girl, she must be a bride
her womanhood is calling her__ yet
she knows no answer to give.

the nat considers ... pleased
in the sweet air surrounding,
her innocence and perfume
countless girls have come and gone
always with the same answer,
he whispers in her delicate ear:
it will be new
whether you make it new
or not.


poem: dorothy
~ dorothy ~ ( post-manic iambic 1997)
so as my stress or distress flares
my star, it shines exceeding bright
my mind flies where i do not dare
to hold my Self in all that light
requires a healthy balanced life
and love of friends to keep you true
to see that Self that's all of you
no part is hid from Love's true Light
no speed and chatter in the night
this soul's endured the furnace bright
with diamond pressure ... done's the fight
this ruby heart is homeward bound
her ruby slippers on solid ground.

poem for fall
bare cherries
ruby sweet gum
blushing dogwood_
autumn leaves
autumn arrives

poem : re-birthday party
8/3/2014 for beth

to the waters, again ~
(green sunday afternoon
silence broken only by
children swimming amok)
immersed, cleansed,
speaking softly_ as
last year floats downriver,
the queen smiles, content
all is right in the world, today.
she is ready to embrace
another year_ renewed
we climb the hill
to the house in the trees,
for birthday cake and creme brulee.

pom : birthday party 7/23/14
- birthday party -

dress up family dinner
candlelight and spaghetti
purple balloons and creme brulee
swimming in the river in a linen skirt

sixty-one ~ what fun!

poem : cocooned
those of us -
not hermetically sealed
in game rooms
of closed-off houses
on their cul-de-sacs
in gated communities -
will always know
the deep satisfaction
of unfiltered morning air

poem : looking backward
on a whim
i purchased cheap
raspberry nail varnish
and i am wondering.
is this the real stuff?
tho' likely i'll never again
dance in black-light clubs
under the whirling mirror ball_
i can still appreciate the memory

poem : luna
~ Luna ~

a fading fluttering moth
his one-night mission over
the work is done; there is no time.
he has no mouth parts; he cannot eat.
doomed to mate and die - his
tattered pale-green wings
beating at the porch light
falling to the concrete step,
exhausted... i put out the light
to free him from instinctive desire
to self-immolate _ hoping,
for a few hours more
his wings can soar

(no subject)
~ being born, then dying ~

when you become a body,
it tightens around
you with a sound like
insects in a haiku.

then, this body becomes
like jeans you've worn
three times and you will
slip out of it with no
more thought than that.

~ elizabeth oakes

various - summer 2014
lily-white clouds with flat bottoms_
soft-peak meringues
on crystal plates

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