To the God of the evening...
of heliotrope dusk
in violet-blue shadows


To the God of the moonlight...
of amethyst gems
in silvery-mauve beams


To the God of the midnight...
of indigo blindness
in aubergine still


To the God of the mountains...
of lilac-silk majesty
and plum-darkened throne


To the God of the oceans...
of deep orchid rain
and tyrian waves


To the God of the meadows...
of heathered frivolity
and lavender rest


To the God of creation...
of courageous love raging
through mysterious trust known


Based off of Psalm 148


To my Muses with Love...

You'll never be forgotten,
So please don't walk away.

I don't like it when we're fighting;
Can we please just talk this out?

You work for me; I work for you.
I need you as much as you need me.

Without you I've got nothing to say;
Without me you've no one to say it.

Can we both have what we need?
Can we treat each other kindly?

Can we ignore the ones who judge us
And write things anyway?

Come back to me, my dear, sweet muses.
Hold me close and I'll hold you.



It’s a piece of my childhood
that held me at night.

from shreds of memories
left behind.

Stitched with care, by
the hands that held me
and nursed my pain.

Lovingly pieced
from dresses, worn
with history and experience,
as if life ended there
in that childish moment.

Where chasing flowers
and playing ponies
was the reason we skipped
through fields, hiding
our shoes in bushes
and hiking our skirts to splash
through puddles and skip
our stones.

So I’ll pass this on
and wrap them in it
and hope they stay
warm in the freedom
of love in these
simple things

Where we
build our own
memories like towers
of blocks and picnics
and castle sand

To give them this
piece from one
child in the night
grown now to whisper
and hold them both tight.