Some say a poem is supposed to rhyme
Though many don’t every time...

Trying to make sense of the hurt
and stinging sadness...

Recently I discovered this poem I wrote and typed...
As I ran wildly crying...

I crossed a border recently
It was a conscious, careful crossing...

In the dripping dark,
Deep, deep underground...

My Love
When I finally loved myself there you were...

It hits me like a stinging slap,
This unbidden sadness...

Is it a choice,
To allow the winds of other’s storms...

I have a new visitor in my garden,
A Mummy Maggie...

Tightly bound in a
Tangle of her own making...

My dreams
are a mystery...

Like a seed
unfolding the flower...