Grip of Gold


Golden are her tawny tresses,

Golden are her thoughts of late;

Gold her dreams of greener dresses –

Dipped in gold, her dreams await

Days of golden-sunshined splendour,

Tucked neath golden afternoons;

Patient, she will guard her golden

Songs as hope sings gilded tunes.

A Weather Forecast


Those days will come –

and then they’ll go,

with notable precision;

The rain will fall,

the wind will blow,

destroy what you envision.

But soon the sky

will tire of tears,

her raindrops’ stores depleted;

the sun will glow

with cheer once more,

and gloom will be defeated.

Three Course Meal

frozen mango tango


pain steals in soft

frozen fangs

tempted by exposed underbelly

plated appetizer


 pearly whites gnaw


savour slow the flesh of broken hearts

 main course destruction


faith foamed and frothed


redeems gnashed, broken ingredients

  becomes sweet dessert


The Icicle Project



If I were

an icicle

I would melt

into your love

letting go

of the past

like tears

rolling down


of glass

A Game of Letters


For those who rely on nature’s bounty,

long winters spell hardship

with frozen letters, fields of Scrabble.

Feet too tired to scratch the surface

will falter, flounder,

find greener pastures too intangible a profit,

and lie where they fall,



This winter has been a difficult one for the large herds of whitetail deer which wander our area. Too run-down to hold out for spring, they are dying off in large numbers, weakened and diseased…This doe looks to be healthy – but healthy enough to give birth in a few months? Time will tell.