Tag Archives: Poetry

Bed Time

Author’s Note:
This is one I did right before bed one night in April. I thought I had more to write on it, but nothing is coming forward yet. I’ll edit as necessary. In the meantime, I wanted to get it down so I wouldn’t lose it. I don’t know the artist on the image. If you do, let me know and I’ll be sure to give credit.


I turn off the lights and slip under the covers of my bed.
Laying there staring at the night ceiling, I suddenly feel the claws of night rake down my back.
I scream, but no one hears my cries stream down my face leaving silver trails behind them.
The darkness creeps in and surrounds me with black tangles of waking nightmares.
I cannot breathe.


Will You Have Time?

Author’s Note:
This poem was rapidly put together (about 5 minutes) and I really haven’t edited it. It was on a scrap of paper and I’m filing those away, so I’m putting it here for the sake of having it at my fingertips to play around with later.


Will you have time for me when I’m gone
when nothing is left but fading memories to carry on?
Will you look up and realize you are alone
And wonder what you could have possibly done?
Will you listen and not hear a sound
Wish that time could be rewound?
Will you plead and beg and cry
For just one more kiss goodnight?
Will you have time to miss me at all
Or will you still be behind your wall
Of television, jokes, games, and beer
The sacred things you do hold dear?
Will you have to miss me when I’m gone
And you wake up to realize you are alone?



It hits me the moment I step out of the car. My stomach lurches in an attempt to retch away the odors assaulting me. The faint hints of bleach and antiseptic barely mask the decay and toothy smoke smell that surrounds the building.

Walking toward the door, the stench intensifies and I can almost taste the barely concealed rot. I gag harder.

Sneaking quick breaths between long moments of not breathing at all, I stagger to the door of the office. The door squeals ominously as I open it and I’m surrounded by a sudden cacophony of sounds. The sucking and scraping provide a background for the whine of the drills digging. Mumbled voices slurping and moaning around devices in their mouths are mixed with impulsive whimpers of pain.

I collapse into a chair in the waiting room, my heart beating out the seconds to my appointment time. I absently stare at the pages of a magazine, dabbing the beads of sweat from my forehead with trembling hands.

I recoil when the nurse calls my name.

“The dentist will see you now!”

Caramel Macchiato



my typical morning begins


a rich smooth hot caramel


topped with frothed white milk

raw sugar

and brown caramel drizzled on



*a poem written in 2011 for a creative writing course I was taking. The poem was meant to follow the style of a poem in our text. I forget the name of the poem I was trying to style after…but will update if/when I find it.

Wings of Change


The wings of change flutter softly by

Gently touching a moment on her cheek as she plays

in blue overalls muddied by cakes made from nature.

She barely notices as she swipes them away

and runs for the house from the rains that cloud the sun.

The wings of change flutter softly by

Softly landing on the tip of her button nose as she hops from foot to foot

in her brand new clothes that her mother made.

She gives no second thoughts to flipping them away

waiting for the large yellow bus to take her to school on her first day.

The wings of change flutter softly by

Delicately playing in her hair as she studies her image in the mirror

Putting the finishing touches on her makeup and hair.

She is too busy to see as she combs them away

Getting ready for her high school graduation day.

The wings of change flutter softly by

Casually landing on her shoulder as she smiles

At the boy she has just met under the large oak tree on campus.

She is too enamored to see them brushed away

As he puts his hands on her shoulder to draw her in for their kiss.

The wings of change flutter softly by

Gracefully touching each of her breasts

as she grips the hands of her love

She is in too much pain to watch them fly away

As she delivers the twin little girls.

The wings of change flutter softly by

Noiselessly fluttering seconds by in beats of wings

As she watches her daughters play in the yard

She is too content to watch them fly

As she holds the hand of her love.

But the wings of change flutter softly by

Gently persistent in imperceptibly bringing change

Even as her hair grows gray and her face shows wrinkles

She sees the fluttering now

In her aged hands as she sits next to the man she loves

And picks up their grandchildren for a hug.

Tell Me a Story


Tell me a story

of places far away

a place I can go, a place I can stay

for just a little while, a part of the story I’ll be

make it something wonderful

a story just for me

Tell me a story

with action and love

I need a happy ending

to fill me with hope

Tell me a story

make it up as you go

take me with you there

don’t leave me alone

Tell me a story

bring it alive

with words carefully chosen

and I might tell you mine.