Life is but crepe, a tissue-paper dream,

A blossom-born hour, a breath to redeem;

So bloom while the sun shines on petals of glass,

And call Today blessing, before it is past.

Solemn Silence

dreamy sundial

Solemn silence, misty hours

ticking by on frosty bowers,

Time, stand still, I want  to cast

this breath before the present’s past.

Evening Makes Her Entrance

Evening makes her entrance

with a swish of sunset skirts.

Never one to shy from the spotlight,

she takes her cue from the nodding sun

and parades her jewels

on elegant finger-gloves.

She grins at the plebeians

who must keep to their morning schedule;

hers is the wild abandon

of those who know

they only have

this hour,

this moment,

to shine.

Harvest of Now

Precarious precipice, this –

one foot in land of the living,

the other in the grave.

What to do,

when death’s throat opens wide?

Soak in sunshine,

breathe with virgin lungs;

count each second

on your knees.

Stop the clock with grateful gaze,

arrest time’s march

by counting,


counting moments,

inspecting each,

 letting them drop

like seed to soil,

to reap a full harvest