Best Clashed Poems

Fighting mid the strong and bold,
His eye and blade were keen;
Marching like a thund'ring storm
On foes of Faith, his queen.

Now returned in victory
Upon his mighty...

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~ This poem is written in the 8686 syllable count style of one of my favorite Emily Dickenson poems, 'I Felt a Funeral in My...

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You’d think a dog named Lucky,
Would lead a decent life.
But Lucky had his troubles,
And they followed day and night.

One day Lucky ran away
In search of...

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  Another Cruel Link in their Chain 

1.   Beginnings

Her babe was her joy, such a beautiful boy,
	and he suckled her breast till...

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Vera Lynn's, "There'll Be Bluebirds Over, The White Cliffs Of Dover",
Keeps streaming through my brain like a wafting zephyr over and over!
'Tis a poignant reminder...

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A dry and barren moat
around historic tower, London’s pride
for many years in restful dormant mood
dreaming of days gone by
when swords clashed and armour creaked;
the yells...

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I am the environmentalist in love with wine,
my shoulders carry and reside in the cutting edge side of life,
the establishment craves to be the human...

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in the bright light of day you appeared...
a gilded angel with falcon wings,
you rose up out of the desert sands 
and your gentle beauty struck...

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Three Year Old….thinking

that potty training thing was over rated
and that “big boy” thing - quite overstated

now I can pee on the ants
thank goodness for my...

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*Image of Kaihalulu Red Beach by Pinterest.


The Painted Islands


The beaches brushing Hawaii's sea blues,
in and of itself are impressive track,
perceptive picturesque color-filled views.

Like some isles,...

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I stand tall and proud upon this ship
Never have I wavered on any trip.
If you listen you will hear me in the wind,
speaking to you...

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The colors she wore clashed in confusion.
One sock grey, one sock blue
as her mind wandered ... where?
She never knew her name 
called out of the...

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In twilight's realm, where moonbeams entwine,
Two owls engaged in a contrast of minds:
A Great Horned Owl, proud and strong,
And a Great Gray Owl, cunning and...

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Like bullet holes in a starched white shirt,
they prop the gravestone in the dirt,
a ruby stitch across the face
of veined pale marble carapace.

They held my...

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I hate myself. 
I hate myself to the extent where I avoid looking in mirrors, 
In fear of the ugly monster that's hiding behind it....

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