Reading is A ticket To faraway places Where enchantments Abound,   While writing is A wand That conjures realms The world Has never seen.   Together, The passenger And the sorcerer Create magic From words on a page.  

They say a witch lives in the trailer At the far end of the old gravel road We park our bikes across the street And dare each other to inch closer We aren’t scared, but we still wait For some else to make the first move   An army of cats wanders the yard Between…

It’s a summer afternoon And I’m climbing my favorite tree The one near the wooden bridge Just beyond the baseball fields   Inside my back pocket I carry a half-eaten sandwich Along with a dented harmonica That I’m still learning to play   Higher and higher I go Until I’ve almost reached the top Where…

I pull off my sneakers and socks Before wading into the murky creek   My feet sink deep into the mud Which squishes between my toes   In the distance, I see a red-eared slider Sitting on an old, partially submerged log   A great blue heron stands on the bank And watches the water,…

Your walk is your rhythm. Your talk is your rhyme. Your heartbeat, your meter That keeps perfect time.   Your name is your title. Your mind, inspiration. You are a poem— A precious creation!

The days are growing green again Beyond my window world. The trees, the fields, the flowers Are starting to unfurl.   I love this sunny time of year When life is overflowing, When bumblebees ride the breeze And daffodils start showing!

At last, snow falls like wishes, kissing the muddy ground, Turning my view around. She rolls out the white carpet, Icing the path from my door, Begging for me to explore, Explore!   My eyes blink as tiny shocks of frozen magic sink Into my coat, my hair, my everywhere. I offer my hands, let…

I saw you late morning when We’d almost given up the search. Yesterday’s crumbs were re-forming into bread In my disappointed pockets,   But your shadow-soft-wing spread that little too far… Hiding treasure? The river wouldn’t tell.   We waited, caught by your stillness until A promising quiver saw the smallest First-day-beak peak out Into…

On bad days Remember trees.   They will let you stop. Let you lean back against them, Or lose yourself up in their reaching branches. They will shelter and shade. They grow so slowly that you can’t resent Their development, but can be reminded That the days will pass, they will pass.   On better…

There’s a bird in our tree singing a fine tune with me, we chirp and tweet in our nests. It won’t be long before we finish this song, and hear what the sky would like next.