Best Mote Poems

One memory, found, has cradled this moment,
exquisitely composed with infinite detail.
Once lost with disease,
it is briefly retrieved,
just for this moment, before it is gone.

She smiles...

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Sudden, as a bolt from the blue,
Came down a humming bird, tantalizing
Skimming down and darting up
As an ever revolving top

It reeled round and round
Before it...

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Ah, the fortitude of a circle
the circular wisdom 
of  spring to summer  fall to winter  
the spinning wheel’s twist of threads -
at...

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Her eyes appear brighter
Her voice whispers low
Her head on the pillow has risen, somehow
She is somewhere without us, somewhere back home 
Lost from the present,...

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~Sand-Castle~

***relaxing medicine***

dreams of the sand
Underneath the ocean stars
Sleeping with the wind


***the beast dreams***

Mr. Sandman's bag
Romantic, like pouring rain
Seashore bash


***the world is home***

Wishing well mirage
Homeless but...

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Once upon a happenstance
I gazed, a look, and paused in trance

To dream upon a crystal palace
Her heart aglee and form to chalice

With towers true and...

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They say if you don’t use a thing for a year
It’s time to get rid of it, just to be clear
Feel free to sell it...

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my hands form the walls..

sea shells cap the high towers..

water fills our mote..






Build me a Sandcastle contest.....

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"Criticizing others is akin to criticizing God" 
"Moment we are critical of our critic we become a critic"
Quote by Author
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words pierce the soft heart, stay...

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Time can be counted in milliseconds
Pay attention
To the cracks in the pavement
Where the sand grains no longer held their cement

The proverbial elephant
Resides in a matchbox...

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Sickle moon gray above the waves
The quiet directionless wind 
On the earth, and in the sky above 
A veil is drawn, cutting into dark spots...

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budding beauty blushing
not coy but provocative

adoring flowers kissed her lips with color
wove a clasp to hold her long hair
tattooed their image on her face

she lives...

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She was immensely house proud
mess not a single trace, 
covers on furniture like a shroud,
Dust  ….. oh my dare not show its face 

Until…….

That...

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High coffered ceilings, 
	an odd filtered light, 
	mote constellations adrift,
	rooms enfilade... 

	In the room at the far end
	— the kitchen, it was — 
	I met...

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When hurt is embedded, so deeply within
how does one remove it, where do they begin?

The decay begins slowly, when a life starts a-rotting
and it cannot...

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