Sun Kissed Days

Sun Kissed Days

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Happy 14th Birthday Daniel

Books on the shelves,
live in your being,
dancing in your thoughts.
You have devoured the pages,
lost in their magic.
Your imagination 
filled with colors,
a kaleidoscope of life,
your wisdom beyond your years.
My eyes delight in 
your walk,
tall and limber,
no longer a boy 
but a young man.
Your voice nourishes 
my soul,
your laughter is the soundtrack 
of my days.
I celebrate today,
your birthday.
I celebrate every giggle and sound
every day
with love
and gratitude
and wonder.
Happy 14th Birthday my sweet son. We are so proud of you!

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

More Questions

Sting rays swim by
piercing my imagination
with childlike wonder.
My feet dangling,
a bell rings in the distance.
Life is here and now,
the moment does not elude me.
I smile,
ordinary day,
elevated by their presence.
A net of wonder in the waves,
a leaf trembles and falls into the water,
serene it floats.
The human spirit reveals itself,
I drink the beauty of it,
for a moment I am,
my mind is still,
I am the stingray,
I am the ocean.
What is the soul they question,
what is life?
what is death?
A revolving door
from the past to the present,
a circle
of birth and death.
Questions reveal themselves to me,
I dream of glorious colorful fish
in every shape and size,
oh how we praise their beauty
and their heart during the battle,
worthy opponents.
Where do we go once
we have left this earth,
filled with joy and struggle.
I wish my spirit dances in the trees
and in your eyes.
I wish my spirit warms
your soul when you are in need.
I wish my spirit is a whisper
on your lips,
a smile on your face,
a joy deep within.
Where do our souls dwell,
no one knows.

The photo above is of dolphins in the wild.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

The sigh of the roots

 My beloved,
plant me an orange tree
it's nectar sweet on my lips.
Follow me to the orange grove
barefoot and free.
In the orange grove
grandma's spirit lives,
in the sigh of the trees,
in the wondrous soil.
That is where she held
people's hands
and people's lives
and inspired them to love her
the way she was meant to be loved.
My beloved,
tender heart
know that these are my roots
that I have walked this far
and I have learned lessons of life
in the charred limbs of a tree,
in the puzzle patches of the bark,
in the eyes of the Cooper's Hawk
greeting me with love.
Plant me an orange tree
and forever I will
be grateful.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014


The melancholy
will fade like a whisper,
like drops melting 
on the skin with a sigh,
like a leaf floating in free fall.
A thousand mornings
I awakened in your arms
to the sound of your heartbeat.
The melancholy will no longer
demand my days
or attention.
Melancholy tinged with
yesterdays scents
of home.
The kitchen where love is made
by loving hands.
Days taken for granted,
a leap in the darkness,
freedom and solitude,
shackles of the mind.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

What Remains

What remains is
the vast blue sky,
words in tattered notebooks
love softly engraved on the skin
where it was born
and freed.
What remains of my life is
the love I gave 
with outstretched
with my heart blooming
 to make yours rise.
What remains is laughter
 carried by the wind
feathers floating in the park.
What remains are the
moon and the stars
as the days go forward
and life goes on.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

A New Day

Your petal hangs
waiting for me to breathe into you.
The wilderness has been trying
you wrestled with the choices
and your faith.
Awaken your desire to stand ,
to exhale
to watch the crossroads
as a challenge,
as a new day.
Watch the geese glide over
the lake
and dream that you are whole
 once again.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014


I drink from the silver 
Amethyst chalice
seeking communion.
The roof shelters me
while I wonder if
 the cobwebs on my soul
are seen from the heavens.
I walk along the shadows,
silence is a death sentence.
Life lingers on my lips
awakened by the sounds
and colors of poetry,
shaking my senses,
leading me home.
Grace floats unannounced,
it walks lacing her
arm into mine.
Grace never tarnished,
stands alone
on wings of hope,
failure is a lesson.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014


Wash my feet
sweet ocean
to you I surrender.
Your lips soothing
like a lullaby
whispered to an infant.
Angels sing 
and poets dream.
I am awakened 
by this moment
yet extraordinary. 
My feet anchored in the sand
seashells leave a mysterious trail.
Life is here,
connected to all that came before us
and all that remains.
I inhale,
I exhale,
I surrender. 

At Marina is asking us to write an ordinary thing in our life that would be easy to take for granted. Sometimes when I am out in the ocean I realize the grandeur of it all and how easy it is sometimes to forget to celebrate it.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014


The ocean holds our dreams,
waves have washed over us
while we trolled the great ocean
as it unfolded and lay in front
of us in it's glory.
These waves tender
and fierce
told our stories to the sun,
the moon
and the vast sky.
We were one with the currents
and the tides.
We watched birds working
our guides to clues.
Our reels sang
as we fished,
your laughter
genuine and loud,
while joy flowed in our veins.
Images of yesterday stir my soul,
tears falling
for a friend that was a brother 
to me.
While the fishing rods sway
to the rhythm
of the universe
our friendship 
lasted to the sunset of our life.
This poem is about my father in law and his dear friend Captain James Farrell . They were friends for more than forty five years. Captain Farrell was a role model to my husband. He was loved by so many. I wrote this in 2010. He passed away almost three weeks ago and this coming week his life will be celebrated.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014


The owl watches me
from his burrow,
"good morning"
 I whisper
 as not to arouse
suspicion of my sanity to
His eyebrows 
   prominent white
his eyes shine.
He is shaded by
a great old tree
with giant roots and
a giant heart
the kind old trees possess .
The red flowers shed
 on the ground
are like a carpet as I walk past .
The owl watches me
and others that
go past him without a second
I think about an old friend
his hair was grey
and his enthusiasm unmatched
by any young folks.
He was awarded
a purple heart and
the Bronze Star 
with three oak leaf clusters for valor 
 in world war II
He cracked  jokes and he
delighted when I smiled.
He offered help
when he saw me drowning
and wept with me when his mother
died in her late nineties.
He lived and died
on his own terms,
courageous and full of spirit.
When I heard the news
I cried
a wound bruised
inside me.
I think of him often,
 he was one of those
souls that are rare
 and kind
gentle and giant.
His soul saw mine
like the great tree in this park
with a huge heart
like this owl that
watches me
like he can see 
  my soul. 
spirits entwined as one
for a moment
for a day

Tuesday, September 9, 2014


Dread and beauty
pour from my veins,
gratitude and surrender.
Life is fragile
like threads come undone.
I raise my glass to celebrate 
yet I feel despair at
how broken we are,
on this bridge from the past
to this moment.
Seekers praise though
they have silent doubts 
they have not tasted the rain
or the blood on the streets.
A high school cheerleader
chasing the dragon
overdosed in the back of 
a gas station, 
parked behind the trash cans
and recycled bins
and roaches crawling
to their freedom.
Those that believe
 to be proper claim to
know what it's like
to be a mother or father 
of lost souls,
they will correct your grammer,
look you in the eye
and pretend 
that they understand 
all because they were in Woodstock
and shared a bong with 
a rock star.
Dread and beauty 
pour from my veins
sadness evokes the thunder
in my heart.

At we are writing about light and darkness.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014


I walk through the trees
observing light and shadow.
I feel the inspiration stir,
I take a breath watching
a butterfly follow me.
I breathe words these days,
but they are silenced
by my questioning heart
asking does it matter?
Do I matter?
The saturated fear 
that it does not
leave me empty like 
a husk I see on the ground.
I question my sanity,
my worth,
I disrobe of the accolades 
and strip bare
what matters?
It's all been said
and done
light and shadow dual,
my soul had been cracked
open before.
I claw out of the darkness
to see the sun.
I kneel by the ocean
and question the smallness of it all
in this vast world.
I am small,
a whisper,
I am nothing.

Monday, August 25, 2014


I am floating on a cloud
searching for you,
the memory lifts me higher
close to the heavens 
where I seek to find you. 
I am floating on a cloud
my hair is wild 
my heart is light
I am searching for you.
I wish to cast my eyes upon you
and feel your heartbeat.
I walked in the park today,
I felt you walk beside me.
I wept hiding under my shades
the fog was rising 
my eyes stinging from my weeping.
I saw you in your colorful
butterfly robe,
the one you wore.
You kissed me
after you scolded me.
I wanted to wash your hair and body
and you battled me.
After the water played with
your hair and
I washed your face
you were at peace.
The struggle ceased
and you remembered 
once again
that I am your girl
the one you held,
the one you loved.
I am floating in my dream
on a cloud searching
for the peace we had
after the storm was gone. 

8/26/14 is five years since my mom passed. I have missed her every single day, my heart pierced in pain. 

Tuesday, August 19, 2014


I am the whisper on 
your lips.
I am the silence
accepting communion.
I am a weed in 
the rose garden.
I am a husk in
the green field.
I am driftwood
washed to shore.
I am a grain
of sand.
I am a whitecap 
in the breaking waves 
of the ocean. 
I am the morning dew
on the maple leaf.
I am nothing
 without you.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

The Hunger

The secrets of the sea
contained in a shell,
the wind whispers yours
and mine.
The hunger alive,
words in the grains of the earth.
I seek
watching the birds diving,
fishing for iridescent fish,
they know the secrets of the world.
You cast with anticipation,
bright eyes,
the eternal boy that knows
his way to the lighthouse 
in the stormy sea.
The waves fierce and tender
unknown mysteries that will
never reveal themselves.
I am the seeker,
the wanderer, 
the poet,
the mother,
always hungry for more.

Our wonderful community at is celebrating a three year anniversary. So grateful for all the poets that have become friends and supporters on this poetic quest. 

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Tree of blood

Sadness evokes memories,
morning dew on leaves forsaken.
Light penetrating,
piercing the morning
with a new promise
.A moment held through time
threads of our tapestry
that were unraveled
 and forgotten.
Where have we gone wrong,
lost our keen,
and our desire to know our blood.
Am I the only one to celebrate
the roots of our tree
that had spread
to different lands
planting seeds
and building new worlds
only to forget the ones
that spilled their blood
their desire for us to live and escape
hate and oppression. 
The threads frayed,
the threads in desperate 
need of repair.
I am the one consumed
with the tales,
the history,
the need to remember.
My heart 
like bruised grapes,
beating in anticipation.
I am the weed left behind,
seeking the light. 

This poem is about finding new family that I didn't know existed until this week. 

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Through the fog

The wind carried the sound
 of my weeping,
scattered dandelions floating
My grief broke me open,
brought me to my knees.
My thoughts,
 waves of despair
and sorrow.
I was told that I should numb 
my pain with pills,
with wine,
with life.
I refused
I soaked it in,
I drowned.
 The grief 
let my heart bleed,
the blade deep and sharp.
 My thoughts consumed me,
I surrendered
 to my anguish. 
Every morning the sun rose
and I learned to walk through 
the sorrow unhinged,
I slept on a bed of thorns,
the darkness draping me.
I walked the path,
on shattered glass.
One day the sun rose,
my burden felt lighter.
I chose to rise from the ashes
and find glory in the morning light,
in the love in my life,
in remembering that you
would want me to live and
breathe again. 
I chose to live
among the glory that 
is in a new day,
the only day that's promised.

Marina at dVerse is having us write about the things that make our world shatter, what it needs and what we do to make it whole again. I wrote about losing my parents.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014


The city vibrant,
 loud and familiar.
The moon watches over us
knowingly lighting our way.
A homeless man,
laying on the ground
holding a cup
while he recites poetry
about a yellow canoe.
Schizophrenic or prehaps
he is saner than all of us.
His voice loud and clear
yet gentle.
I am filled with emotion,
tears well up
 of old wounds
I have forgotten.
At the museum
we explore the beauty,
 a little boy
while he hangs on his mother's arm
as if he was drowing 
and she is his life preserver.
My thoughts drift
 to sleepless nights,
restless days.
I look away and
fight the tears
because I love you more
than you can ever understand.
Our time brief,
this is where I want to be
in this beautiful city that
you call home. 
You work from ten to seven
all night
caring for humanity
while the moon crawls to greet me
through the window.
I sleep and dream 
of my wide eyed boy
tending to those never cared for
uprooted and lost.
The past is calling
but I choose today
I choose this moment
bittersweet yet glorious.

At dVerse Abhra has us writing about places around the world where we want to be, for me it was Boston for a brief visit with my son and my future daughter in law. I am sharing a link to my interview with the lovely Laurie Kolp at dVerse yesterday.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

The Apple Tree

Dad wrote mom poems
that he read to her.
 I listened
while they thought that 
I was sleeping.
His voice filled with passion
and love.
 Dad wrote me stories
about a horse with a broken leg.
It was published
 in the newspaper.
Life was art to him,
and art was life.
I watched him mesmerized at
how he was bigger than life
    and how an entire room
would be captivated by 
his conversation.
Mom said that the apple
does not fall far from the tree
and that I was like him.
I wanted to write poetry like
and love like him
his flame burning.
His thirst of life,
never quenched,
his hunger
never satiated. 
 He never followed anyone
he always followed his instinct.
His seeds of wisdom
ingrained in my being.
His life was filled with sadness
and despair during the war.
The obstacles never defined him,
he rose and overcame
to build a life that was well lived.
Mom said that I was strong as steel
when I went through my journey.
I told her that 
I was not strong as steel,
the strength was born out of necessity. 
My bloodlines rich with struggle
and endurance.
I think of them
and honor the place that
I come from,
and the apple tree I fell out of.

This is written for dVerse where the lovely Grace is having us write about our ancestors.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

An Olive Branch

The canopy of trees 
the leaves sway to an 
invisible symphony
wearing crowns
like the layers of my heart.
In my green peridot field,
in the orange grove
I planted seeds of hope,
seeds for peace.
I found the walls and distance
between us
all the reasons why we are
the same instead of different.
I planted seeds with my bare soul,
the words that sprouted were hopeful
like an olive branch offering.
You half smiled and half mocked
my hopeful dream. 
Verse sprinkled with
wonder and destruction.
Layers of life risen from the trenches 
soaring to enlightenment.
The leaves are dancing
in the breeze,
like words of truth that I stuffed
into my soul.
Bleeding unto the page,
soaking my bones,
like the water soaking 
the seeds I left behind to 
saturate and grow.
Words that liberate,
words of peace.

Peace may seem like a foreign concept for many of us. The peace within, the peace in the world. Peace is ambitious and necessary yet it seems like a dream that we can't reach. I still wish for Peace.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014


The hunger weeps in the night
what will you do to wake up your soul
what you will do to awaken mine.
Desire filled nights
our hearts racing
as we wait for dawn's light.
I washed my soul in the ocean
while tears fell tenderly.
Your fingers ran down my spine
and left a print on my skin .
Your arms a homecoming
sun kissed days
that ached in sweet surrender.
You are the dew on the morning grass
You are the sound of the rustling leaves
You are the wine in my empty glass
What will you do to wake up your soul
What will you do to awaken mine

Tuesday, May 20, 2014


The grass glistens
like gems under the light.
I am a dreamer lost in these
moments of wonder.
I listen to the melody,
his image on my gray shirt.
He was a dreamer,
I'm not the only one.
He dreamt of peace
when I was in the bomb shelter
listening to air raid sirens.
A ladybug crawled on
my arm in the darkness.
I was not consumed by fear
but I was filled with hope.
If he lived today
would he be disillusioned
that there is no peace,
that barriers exist,
that we are connected
and disconnected.
These days,
this life,
the change,
all the questions that remain.
We dance through  the questions
we walk side by side with our shadows.
Once in awhile
 we see a glimpse of our better self
making the world a better place
than we have found it.
I am a dreamer 
but I am not the only one.
Mary has us writing in quotes,some of my favorite quotes come from John Lennon's Imagine. 
He was a dreamer and I join him in dreaming.