autumn walk

Fall in Eden


An Artist am I

A Master of line

A weaver of themes

A peddler of Time


Trompe L’oeil  I create

Painting windows in stones

My tapestries tie up loose

Ends and unknowns


I’ll soothe you with color

Pastel’s softest hues

Or light you on fire

Igniting your Muse


I’ll leave you in stitches

(A seamstress I am)

Then rip you apart

With a swipe of my pen


And when I am finished

My signature’s clear–

On your heart, etched the words

A poet was here


Oh Mind, Heart and Hands do strange bedfellows make

For when two would give, one would selfishly take

No evidence found of the Mind who’d submit

to the will of the Heart, if Hands wouldn’t commit.