With concentrated density
Tucked and tugged
Her tightness to a bud
Inspiring intrigue
What will become of her
Will she unfurl
Or forever remain insular
Slowly enticed
Her surroundings beckon
With the welcome of suns
By nurturing nutrients
She begins to emerge
Tender gingering
Her mass begins a swell
What lays in her depth
Is both her discovery and reveal
Unending layers
Uniform throughout
Rich with color for living
Graced with buoyant form
Wanting to give of herself
Her soft embrace
Her plentitude
Her deepest gratitude
Yet her bud-time hesitancy
Never too far
As some restraint
Still grounds her down
Tale of the Peony
Who is she to you
You’ve watched her from afar
But she knows you’ve always watered her ♥️

Africa Calling


I hear you calling
I know your arms are wide open
There is no stepping
This must be a dive
Closing my eyes
I feel my free fall
As there is no fight
Against the draw of your call
From endless landscapes
With blistering deserts
Placid salt lakes
And daunting forests
Where Man is of no consequence
Where beast is the king
I will come as your guest
And leave as your subject
The Queen of this Earth
You give birth and house to the wild
You show how it was
You teach how it can still be
No matter the challenge
You survive feast and famine
Uprisings and peace
You uphold your regal name
And with reverence I say
She is Africa

Bird of Paradise


Distinctly present

With colors unadulterated

Definition unquestionable

With geometrical challenge

What creative precision

With beauty spectacular

As adorned with grand stature

Claiming humbled respect

Bird of Paradise

You inspire a freedom

Exotic and rich

Yet sprout amongst us

Feeding from shared sun and waters

What wise lesson you teach

That wherever you are

With whatever colors and form

We too can unfold

Majestic and magical

NOLA 300yrs and golden!


Defeated by none,
Not Yellow Fever or Smallpox
Not Betsy or Katrina
Not politics or social upheavals
300 bold and holding!
Town to natives
Close and far
French and Spanish
African and German.
Relentless history
Full of voodoo magic
With torturous pin dolls
To Catholicism
And communal graves.
With extremes of attraction
From plastic tub drummer boy
To sauve pianist in the Bombay bar
This city has a place for all.
Potted flowers and crawling vines
On wrought iron railings
Hang over the street.
Defined by New Orleanians
As their galleries.
With bourbon in hands
And string of beads
Viewer leans over
Sees passing parades,
Ole times revisited.
Each corner block
Defined so well
Be it praline store
Oyster bar
Or the Great Joan d’Arc!
Upstream, curvaceous Mississippi
Teams with steamboats
Cruisers, even tugboats.
Side line streets crawl with
Mule drawn buggies, rickshaws and trams.
All seen with coffee and beignets
From never closed, Du Mondes!
Perhaps this is
The city in the south
That never sleeps!
As the music, the art, the culture
The food
Has no time to wait
For those who cannot feel
The wind and string beats!

True Mothers


Mother Earth
Mother Moon,
Mother Sun.
Mother Earth
You spin and rotate,
At velocity I can’t even fathom
Yet I stand steadfast and grounded.
Mother Moon
With no light of your own,
You care to grasp and reflect
Silver beams for my night to glow.
Mother Sun
You’re a blazing inferno
With constant ignition,
Yet for me
Gentle rays cascade.
With your nature to nurture
Your methods do conjure
My awe, my gratitude.
Yet at times forgetting
The magnitude of this precision
This perfection.
Taking life for granted,
You resort to sending lessons,
Too hard to swallow.
With platonic collisions
Come tsunamis, eruptions.
With meetings of high-low pressures
Dance hurricanes and twisters.
Despite the devastation,
The restructuring,
Over the many milline and Ages
With divine intervention,
The solar system has withstood
Test of time for my here entrance.
With what has been endured,
Allows me my time.
My day in the Sun
My nights with the Moon,
With feet upon this Earth.
True Mothers of life,
I promise to honor,
Respect and obey,
This glorious given life
In your kingdom,
This trifecta Heaven.
Photo curtesy of Kim Vallon posted on Pinterest.

Hands of Inspiration


With movement
By the limbs
By the mind
New circuits await
Every moment, every day
Do we delve further out ?
Or converge deeper in?
Both at our disposal
Both are possible
Curtesy of creator’s design
So journey we must
No galaxy
To far
In the depths
Of your own soul
No kingdom escapes
While here
In this Heaven
On Earth
Beware the distractions
Or Mad Hatter you’ll be
Let love be your compass
Stay true to the course
Mark no destination
Judge not right or wrong
Let each step be a revelation
Let growth be the goal


Moment by moment

The scroll lengthens

The weave thickens

History in the making 

Each day an event

When comes the pivotal point

No one ever knows

Arrivals departures 

The stream goes on

Yet the accumulative effect

Undeniably shapes

The future to come

No reality ever

Quite as the dreamer intended 

So dive below the turmoil

Surface above the mundane 

And soar with the stars

To a place so sublime

Where never touched by the grime 

Unavoidably part of this here time