CONTEMPORARY POETRY

Crafted in Love's Forest

                      Crafted in Love’s Forest Strength and beauty lie naked, urgency of bodies share in ancient whispersof understanding. Together they createnotions of love to flow in the void. They touch peace, each one a desired being, is crafted from a lifetime’stenderness and discovery. The divine’s reflection on the canvas of their skin. Animated...Read More »

---

Dead poems

                        Dead poems I see the birds of hunger today, gliding toward me, headed straight my way. They cackle and caw and cry for carrion: meat from the bones of my dead poems.     Garnet Shaw Robbie ...Read More »

---

The Visit

              The Visit Her eyes sparkleAs sheTakes my armAnd leads meThrough the memory-filledMuseum of History.“This is the guyWho writes that column!”She proclaims.We are greetedBy smiles, handshakes,Nods of appreciation.We sit,Surrounded by artifactsLeft behind byWarriors,Explorers,AdventurersWho faced the challengesOf uncertain futuresWith courage, vision,And conviction.“People don’t oftenTake the time to expressAppreciation,” she explains.“I like what you...Read More »

---

Teacher's Lament

                    Teacher’s Lament “If you really loved teaching,” the senator said,“You’d do it for free.”I replied, “And if you valued education,You’d be willing to pay me.”Our actions show our values.We spend moreOn what’s important to us,Whether we spendTime or money.Teachers are paidFor the time we spend in class,Not for the hoursWe spend...Read More »

---

The Old Saddle

            The Old Saddle The old saddleCarries the smellsOf well-worn leather,Horses,And the dustyScent of history,Of countlessRides acrossEmpty prairies,Among the foothillsAt their edges,And along mountain streams.The cowboyWho owned it beforeLeft the stampOf his independent spirit,Quiet solitude,And inner strength.When I sitIn that saddle,I feel the connectionTo the past,To my horse,To the land,And to the...Read More »

---

Gentle Morning

                 Gentle Morning The gentle cooingOf mourning dovesGreeted meAs I stepped outsideInto the warmthOf the Colorado sun.The pale blueSkies are clearThis morning,The late springSnow nearly melted.I enjoy the peaceOf the moment,Letting tranquilitySeep into theDark crevicesOf my wounded soul,Knowing the quietWill soon beDriven awayBy theCacophony of life.For now,It is enoughTo be standingOn the...Read More »

---

The Open Plain of Possibility

                  The Open Plain of Possibility I inched up life’s rock-face held on by my fingertips out of a treacherous ravine;I climbed to a safe haven, a plateau where days unfurled in tranquility, in the flow. Times past, I have climbed huge mountains of creativity worked life’s simple joys into troughs and...Read More »

---

Why some poems are sad

                  Why some poems are sad “I like it when you write Happy poems,” she said. “Why don’t you write more? Why are some of your poems so sad?” I seek truth when I write, And my poems Are signposts that mark the way. ...Read More »

---

Soul burst forth sweet

                    Soul burst forth sweet Soul burst forth sweet music that heart composed with power to mesmerize and gel in memories hide. His varied repertoire intricate and complex, surprise change of tempo to stretch high notes and low; An artist who poured all into the setting sun through twilight hours piped song to starlit sky his voice transparent...Read More »

---

"Go Back"

                                “Go Back” Reminiscences of a reluctant shepherdess.   A sheep sits huddled in a cornerof the paddock, as the rain pelts downsinks lower in the sodden grass,desperate to escape the all-seeing eyeof the working dog.   I yell in vain as Biddy rounds up the flockturning them round and around, this waythen that way – no...Read More »

---