Sun Kissed Days

Sun Kissed Days

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Happy 11th Birthday Daniel

Your feet dangle,
out of the blue Spiderman quilt.
The room is quiet,
but magical
as my heart dances
while watching you sleep.
Your bunny tucked under your arm
even though you are older,
even though you are wise beyond your years.
You walk through life
with conviction,
extending your generosity to others.
Your sweetness touching those
you love.
A little boy living and dreaming big dreams.
I linger in your room,
I inhale the moments,
storing them in my heart,
wanting this to last.
Giving you wings,
to follow your dreams,
with hope that you never fly far.

My sweet Daniel,
You are 11 today. It seems like yesterday you were born and you brought so much joy into our life.
You are an incredible human being. You are kind and generous and you give of yourself to others. You are funny and you are thoughtful. I tell you every day how much I love you, and adore every moment we spend together.
 You make me proud and I love you forever!

Friday, December 23, 2011

Happy Holidays

Wishing all of you Happiness and Peace during the holidays and always!
 Magical moments and wonderful memories!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011



Rain rolled on my lips,
stealing a kiss like an old lover.
Jealous you watched with regret.
 Into the universe,
I sent 
a thousand paper ships,
lined up like soldiers 
with your name written 
with my blood.
The echos of my voice calling you,
carried by the wind,
followed them on the journey.
This Christmas,
and every day
I give you my heart,
don't put it on a shelf to admire.
Don't put it in a box  to keep,
don't hang it on a wall,
to watch it bleed,
to watch it fall.
I give you my heart,
the rain watches,
 jealous with regret. join us where we share our thoughts and our hearts. I wish all my friends Happy Holidays, and may the new year be a great one. 

Sunday, December 18, 2011

No Pain In The Rain

The raindrops showered me,
I stood there while they embraced me.
I wanted each drop to be,
like the tears I shed inside.
It was after my father died,
I knew the rain can't hurt me,
or cut me,
or leave me to bleed.
The pain was greater than
any I have ever known.
He loved me,
even though I didn't listen.
Even though I was a rebel.
I was a warrior that lost the war.
He knew,
but he didn't say a word.
He knew but he forgave,
because he loved me with his heart and soul.
He kissed my eyelids,
and my soul would flutter.
like the wings of a butterfly.
He knew I lost my way,
but he stretched out his arms,
to catch me while I fell.
I wept when he died,
sorrow existed in my days and nights.
He was a lover of life,
so I crawled out of the darkness and pain
and I lived.
Slowly allowing sweetness to seep in,
allowing myself to breathe again.

the above painting is by Tera Zajack, aka olive hue designs and over at dVerse brian miller is hosting  a wonderful  poetics prompt for us, featuring an interview with Tera and some of her work. Join us there!

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Mask The Pain

No rhyme,
no reason.
The young man claims to be Tupac ,
he claims to be Jesus.
Eleven to seven,
a third of a life,
on the night shift.
No rhyme,
no reason,
the snakes followed him,
to the Emergency Room.
There is no judgment ,
only acceptance.
Mental illness does not discriminate .
It's an equal opportunity lover. Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

A Potato In His Pocket

The grey haired man walked,
a potato tucked safely in his pocket.
The past was his constant companion,
his heart longed for his homeland.
The tapestry of his life woven
by threads of pain and strength.
The grey haired man,
was once a boy that lived across the ocean,
persecuted for his religion.
His mother was murdered,
left bleeding by her infant son.
The infant grew into a brave boy,
he saved a train of children destined to die.
He jumped off the train,
and pleaded with the American soldiers,
to listen to his plight.
His picture was published
in the newspaper.
A hero,
the boy wearing only a tattered men's dress shirt.
The boy with dark bright eyes,
he ran like the wind,
with the will to survive.
His voice rose with courage,
his determination,
brought salvation
to all those children that day.
The grey haired man,
never quite forgot,
the taste of grass he ate from the ground,
escaping to the mountains to stay alive.
He never forgot the hunger,
the potato in his pocket tucked away,
the potato in his pocket a source of comfort.
The past his companion,
all the days of his life.

This is dedicated to my husband's grandfather, Antranik Sheshedian, a survivor of the Armenian genocide. We have a framed photograph of the picture that was published in the newspaper, the day he saved the train of children by urging the American soldiers to listen to him. Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011


My veins are rivers
carrying pain.
I hurt for you, my friend.
4.74 degrees of separation between us,
tap into Facebook's largest social network,
and it reveals itself like magic.
That what I know is true,
we are all connected,
you and I.
The woman in the Congo raped and beaten.
The man in Ohio that can't buy groceries for Thanksgiving dinner.
The child that was abused but there is hope
in his heart.
How do I reconcile my desire with the feeling of despair?
That I can't save all the drowning
people in this boat.
How do I live with the passion,
only to feel the anguish,
that I can't carry you on my shoulders,
lift you to a safe place,
give you the dreams that you buried long ago.
How can I reconcile the desire with the inability,
of how vast the need is.
Trying to solve a puzzle,
that pieces have vanished to,
that pieces will never fit.
There is no harmony,
there are no simple answers.
There are band aids
but there is no cure.
I want to reject the notion that things will never change,
I want to remain firm and true
to my need to resolve.
My friend, the burden must be shared by all.
To rise from lack and emptiness to a better world.
My veins are rivers,
carrying pain.
I hurt for you my friend. Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

A Moment Of Gratitude

Our days filled with chaotic wonder,
magical moments,
and moments of despair,
happiness a balance of sorrow.
Flower petals open,
the earth is kissed by the rain,
unlock your heart.
Live with gratitude,
the sun will whisper in your ear,
the evening stars will guide you home.
Plant seeds of kindness,
and your soul will dance.
Follow your bliss,
but don't abandon others.
feel the unity with the universe,
live your truth.
Live with gratitude each day. Meet us at the Pub where we share our thoughts and our heart. I want to wish all of you a happy and safe Thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

The Peace We Make

A dove flies down from the heavens,
she sings a song of peace to those who listen.
Forget the games that people play,
men with power in their ivory towers.
They have forgotten how to dream,
how to inspire.
They have their hearts under lock and key,
burdened by the harsh reality.
They sweep the issues under the rug,
while making false statements,
and empty promises.
People wait for answers that never come,
they wait for the substance truth carries.
Open your palm and feed the world,
open your arms and shelter.
Evil flourishes when there is no action,
evil flourishes when no one is listening to the cries.
When you look the other way,
when your belly is full,
it's hard to imagine one that's empty.
Crimes against humanity take place every day,
while we wait and sleep on it.
The dove carries a twig in her beak,
an olive branch.
The dove dreams of peace and so do I. meet us at the Pub where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Rose Jelly Made By Rose

The glass jar clear and fragile,
like memories it holds of yesterday.
Road side wild roses awaited her,
on the way to Shinnecock Bay.
Dark red petals with intoxicating scent
Her spirit joyous, her hands gentle,
she made jelly sweet with love.
Grandma's hands, grandma's voice, grandma's grace.
The glass vessel clear and fragile,
summer recollections whisper of framed snapshots.
Hidden away in a dark cupboard,
twenty one years she's been gone,
yet the glass jar remains sealed,
saved memories timeless, honored and cherished.

This is dedicated to Nevart Sheshedian. My husband's wonderful grandmother.
He has shared countless memories about the great spirit that she possessed. This week he was tempted to open the jar . He wanted to taste her rose jelly once again. The jar is frozen shut by sugar.  He was afraid that it would break. This inspired me to write  this for Six Word Fridays where our word for this week is saving. Meet us here to read other offerings.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Words I Had Forgotten

I traced words on leaves,
with my fingers and my toes.
I scattered them in the orange grove,
and watched how they were swept into the heavens.
The fields nearby were Peridot  green,
inviting and unassuming,
I knelt down,
wishing the scars would heal,
and I can find them once again.
The sun shined with regret,
attempting to console my emptiness.
The wounds of life led me to abandon
the words I love as I buried them deep inside.
Poetry, my old friend,
you found me while I played hide and seek
with my words.
While I wrote them on napkins and receipts
and tossed them away.
Poetry you found me in the ocean,
on a moonlit night,
the tide was rising,
the fish were biting.
You found me and I could no longer hide.
I had forgotten how you heal me,
how you awaken my desire,
how you let my soul dance outside my body.

. Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

The Game Of Life

Dust settled on the chessboard,
the queen and king no longer dance,
through the square green patches on the board.
The gardens are silent with sadness.
The little boy waited for them to awaken
and play hide and seek with the knight and the bishop.
He dreamt,
his mentor gone.
He remembered the wisdom taught,
the lessons of defeat ,
and the triumph of victory.
His grandpa's wisdom,
about the art of living.
His instruction of the game,
his kindness.
The boy became a man,
as he reached for the stars,
as he jumped over the hurdles of life,
he whispered  under his breath, " checkmate. This one is for you grandpa."  Join us at the Pub where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

The Battle

Monday afternoon,
a storm came brewing,
Cancer came knocking on the door,
it wasn't Halloween yet, so cancer didn't wear a costume.
It was a visible mountain nestled in his thigh .
The man had lived lovingly each day,
with light in his heart.
He didn't squander his treasured health,
on bad habits,
or negative thoughts.
Cancer came knocking at the door,
and life changed.
Does cancer know that he will fight
with the light that shines within him?
Does cancer know that he will conquer the battle?
Cancer does not know,
but I do.

My cousin's husband was diagnosed with cancer yesterday. Prayers would be appreciated. So many of us have lost someone to cancer or know someone that is fighting for their life trying to win the battle.
 Join us here where we share our thoughts and hearts.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Revolution Of The Minds

Polite conversation,
over dainty teacups,
dancing around the issues of our time.
They talk about hair,
and wrinkle cream,
reality shows and the weather.
They have no interest
in hungry babies,
nets for malaria,
or crimes against humanity.
I don't want to dance this dance,
do I make you uncomfortable ?
do I challenge you today ?
I won't apologize,
I won't refrain,
I won't hold back.
We are all connected,
we must face the music.
We must grasp the challenges
of the world outside ourselves.

 Meet me at the Pub, where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Somalia's Footprints- Blog Action Day

Footprints in the sand,
refugees seeking life,
they walk in the desert miles and miles,
to find water.
Malnourished children,
food is a luxury they dream of,
childhood is another.
I hear their voices in the desert,
a scorched landscape
is their world.
On the wings of hope they walk,
leaving footprints in the sand.
They struggle in silence,
they struggle with grace.
In our world,
I watch neighbors squander water,
sprinklers run as flowers wilt.
I think of a nation with footprints in the sand.
Can you see ?
Can you feel ?
Will you stand for action ?

My friend, Brian Miller brought it to our attention that today is Blog Action Day-Thank you, Brian.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

The Salvation That Is Yoga

The dark room is
filled with light,
filled with energy,
moving through the room.
The fly on the wall,
watches us as we move in unison.
As we reach an inner peace,
filled with gratitude to the universe.
Our instructor spreading seeds of knowledge,
words of letting go,
words of connections to one another.
Letting the ego dance outside our bodies.
The knowledge that we are perfect as we are,
the love of acceptance.
She scatters the seeds,
and we collect them,
our spirit blooms,
a ray of sunshine follows us home.

 Come join my friends and I at the Pub, where we share out thoughts and our hearts.

Friday, October 7, 2011

Why Not?

The wind sighs with heartfelt pain.
Tears are falling across the continents ,
mourning an innovator, mourning a dreamer.
His journey out of the box,
change the world today, why not?
He followed his dreams, his gut.
His words, " stay hungry, stay foolish."
Chasing dreams, making them a reality.
His journey an inspiration to all.

Join Melissa for Six Word Fridays, Today we are doing-why not?

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The Waterlilies

In my dream,
the layers of fog engulf me,
waterlilies dancing on the water.
They sway gently ,
as time marches forward.
when I looked at Monet's waterlilies,
I imagined you there with me.
You would stay beside me,
as we would lose ourselves in the
beauty of the moment.
You would inhale it,
the way I did.
We would take it in slow breaths,
you would tell me about his life,
his love,
his passion,
because you would know.
Dad you were,
a lover of life,
a lover of beauty,
a poet,
a dreamer.
You never lost the hunger to live,
and love.
In my dream we reunite,
and I weep ,
I want to stay in your arms.
I want the dream to last forever.

Come join us at where we share our poetry and hearts.

Friday, September 30, 2011

How To Make It Count

Color your canvas with purple stars,
color the sunrise with bright orange.
Make your life count every day,
live with intention, live with purpose.
Speak your mind, without seeking approval.
Lend your voice, lend your heart.
If the question is how to ?
I would think and then say,
Open your branches and embrace everything.

Join us at Melissa's Six Word Fridays, the challenge today is " How To "

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

The Starfish Graveyard

Sweltering summer day,
sweat beads dancing on my skin.
We enter a starfish graveyard,
at the Key West souvenir shop.
I hear the ocean moaning,
whispering with regret,
whispering of loss.
On the ocean floor they frolicked,
on the ocean floor they lived.
Long ago,
my love gave me a red and orange starfish,
from the ocean floor.
We gazed at it with wonder,
and we set it free.
I hear the ocean mourning,
and I mourn the life and death,
the beginning and the end,
of all living things.

Come and join my friends and I at

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Modern Pace

The light enters through the window,
my heart captures a magical moment.
The sun bathes me with love,
for a moment my spirit soars.
Modern life a fast pace journey,
our time misspent, we seek balance.
Pieces of ourselves scattered here, there.
We juggle days, we juggle lives,
we run and chase unattainable dreams.
We need to look within ourselves,
climb out of the walls of
our heart, to receive our desire.
To find peace, to find love,
leave our fingerprint here and now.  visit my friend Melissa at six word Fridays, it's a lot of fun!

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The Jewel

She is the jewel of Miami Beach,
she stretches like Sunday morning.
Her glory in her navel,
she dazzles as her gems
adorn her.
Saturday night,
short skirt wearing,
high heels Jimmy Choo,
cookie cutter crowds,
desire to enter her womb.
Desire to lay in her inviting arms,
as she sighs.
Her crescent shape seen Elvis and Sinatra,
she held their secrets as she whispered in their ears.
Over time she has grown more beautiful,
I remember her when we were young.
I remember a gentler time,
when the wine lasted,
through the night.
As we waited for tomorrow to be ours,
we watched the world go by.

Note: Saturday night we were at the Fontainebleau Hotel in Miami Beach, to celebrate my brother's birthday.  I couldn't help but notice the changes in the building and in the crowds waiting to enter and enjoy the nightlife. The surprise birthday party was amazing and it inspired me to write this.

Friday, September 16, 2011


The stillness of the morning soothing,
a time to reflect and breathe.
We connect on Facebook and Twitter
but somehow we find ourselves disconnected.
One day melts into another day,
chaos and to do lists emerge.
Surrender to the waves, don't resist,
let them sweep you to calmness.
Surrender to your heart and listen.
Don't run through this wonderful life,
live it, watch the leaves turn,
let the butterflies kiss your lips.
Let the light shine and inspire,
don't squander your days away aimlessly ,
open your hear, let love in.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Finding My Way

I lay in your wings,
your voice was my music.
I inhaled your words,
as my breath.
I gave you my heart,
as my soul lay naked in your palm.
My sunflower died the other day,
just like something died inside
of me, when I came undone,
when I lost my voice,
when my dream began to crumble.
I was no longer nestled in your wings,
I was falling,
I was holding,
I was waiting,
for you to listen to my cries.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

We Remember-Ten Years

I saw her in a magazine,
I read her words,
" he would have liked me",
she said.
Her eyes deep ocean blue,
filled with infinite sadness.
The necklace she wears,
has his image,
like the image she carries in her heart.
She never met him,
her hero,
her father.
He died that dreadful September day,
the day the world changed.
I wish I could embrace her,
and tell her that he would like her,
that he would love her,
that he watches her with his angel wings.
I wish I could tell her that we remember
that day,
that we would never forget,
that we feel her pain,
that we carry the pain,
like a scar in our soul.

Ten Years

September morning,
strong, dark cappuccino sipped
in fragile cups.
Good Morning America on the television,
our newborn slept soundly,
our high school age son was sleeping too.
Then in an instant,
nothing felt the same.
Shattered lives,
shattered dreams,
images branded in our mind.
Hollow sadness, despair, tears flowing.
Ten years later,
our thoughts laced together,
endless conversations,
about this moment.
A moment of sacrifice ,
a moment of pride,
a moment of to unite us all.

A poem I wrote in May that my friend Leslie said I should re-post for the anniversary of 9/11. Thank you, Leslie. 

Friday, September 9, 2011


Your words spin, I stand still.
Your words move me, lure me.
Unwrap me with your tender kiss,
taste the watermelon on my lips.
I bathe in the sun's rays,
summer waltzed in and now departed,
fall seducing like a new lover.
I left home so long ago,
lift me to the sky and
I will kiss the clouds above.
I left my red galoshes behind,
I left my books home unattended.
I embraced an armful of dreams,
as I moved across the ocean.
Finding a new life and home,
my heart moves with eternal gratitude.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011


She stormed in,
"I just saw an amazing bumper sticker." she said,
" Buy American the job you may save is your own."
Bold letters etched in my memory,
that was twenty five years ago.
A dialogue among friends began,
twenty five years have passed.
The market saturated with cheap imports,
seduced by low prices,
the dialogue continues.
Like the seasons the world has changed,
like a marriage that's come undone.
Attempts to stimulate the economy
have fallen weak.
The middle class disappear,
the poor bleed,
dreams shatter.
We wait to be romanced by politicians ,
but there is no poetry in poverty,
there's no humanity on shutting the doors to
the crying need.
We are left hanging, waiting for answers,
that just don't come.