WRITING FROM THE INSIDE OUT

LES ABRES (The Trees) 

Needles nestle gold seeded ornaments 

Breezes caress exploding plumes 

Awaking the secret of blooming 

Boughs arch - cascade from the sky  

Forming skirts of Evergreen crinoline 

Flowing veil of peridot pearls 

Sultry waves camouflage weeping 

Flirting winds weave ruffling locks 

Willow branches inhale and exhale  

Inviting the storm to dance 

Dogwood's crimson winter temptation 

Become Spring’s tiers of joy 

Ariel tide-pools of frost pink crowns 

Or quartets of crystal white guardians 

Shield a tender gilded heart 

Enchanted white porcelain bowls 

Cradle a mystical intoxicating bouquet 

Majestically enthroned - exalted upon 

Magnolia's strong well-muscled branches 

Adorned with blissful entrancing beauty

​

​photo by Ramona Edwards - Uplifting Images on Facebook

PLIGHT OF THE WORM 

While sifting rich soil through his fingers 

She fell to the ground 

As he planted gem-colored flowers 

She was brushed aside 

When he was grooming his beloved garden 

She was desperately searching 

From the bench he beheld Spring’s beauty 

From a concrete grave she cried 

Why do his eyes reveal disgust and dispassion?  

Doesn’t my plight stir tender compassion?   

The curb is much to steep to climb!   

Kindness would benefit his garden in time. 

​

​photo by Ramona Edwards - Uplifting Images on Facebook

THRESHOLD

In memory of my dear friend Marlin King

The work was to stand at the threshold  

On one side

Love called 

“Cross - Come Walk with me” 

your spirit chose communion  

with heaven’s pure light 

​

On the other side 

Your absence is the weakness  

that nips at my heels  

and begs me to stay  

right here 

​

​photo by Ramona Edwards - Uplifting Images on Facebook

ARTIST

Grief births creativity 

Illumination born of pain

Glorious spectrum otherwise hidden 

So clear in heaven’s gain

​

​photo by Ramona Edwards - Uplifting Images on Facebook

TEST OF LOVE 

Test me if you will 

My love will not fail 

At your birth I vowed 

Protection would prevail 

The sweet trace of your lips 

Tiny tender hands 

Hints of coming beauty 

Attention these gifts command 

The eye sees not the danger 

It lurks behind your knee 

To claim your gait and balance 

By doubting – mistrusting me 

Evils first attempt 

To harder a woman’s heart 

Is to lay successful traps 

To tear mother and daughter apart 

Heavenly intuition 

Illumines the threatening plight 

Love is wiser than knowledge 

Engaging maternal sight 

Your heart is the target 

Flesh – weapon’s voice 

To sever the bond forged 

At our parting – birth’s choice 

I am fierce in prayer 

Fearless in conviction 

An endless source of devotion 

Discipline my depiction 

In your youth see truth 

That some women never see 

And thwart the battle waged 

Directly at you and me 

So, test me if you will 

My love will not fail 

At your birth I vowed 

Protection would prevail

​

​photo by Ramona Edwards - Uplifting Images on Facebook

I wrote this years ago - now my 3 children are all adults

CALL TO  WAR

The rehearsed reaction of 

gathering resolve, appearing courageous,  

and speaking valiant words of support and endearment, 

failed me when I needed it most. 

Instead?  

I fell to my knees, my breath escaped when courage collapsed. 

Words; well, words were useless. 

After twenty years my womb aches 

yearning to recapture the life that it once so perfectly protected. 

Poor, poor womb your desire is delusion. 

You released him. 

He has outgrown you. 

Your fortress is withered, memory is your only tie to him, a thinning  

thread that will break and die with me. 

For thirty-six years I have vowed, 

No child of mine will go to war. 

I committed all personal and physical 

resources to this end. 

Instead? 

I raised a soldier in a house that was always the demilitarized zone

Actually groomed conscience and shaped conviction. 

My breast longs for my nursing baby to gaze at me until he is taken away from 

needs of this world so I can watch him sleep. 

Poor, poor breast your desire is illusion. He discharged you. 

Your food could not sustain him. 

His attention is now for another, memory is your only tie to him, a thinning thread that will break and die with me. 

The Army sent a picture of a tall,  

handsome soldier.

Beret, uniform, boots,  

tattoos and gun are fitting the man  

I should recognize 

Instead? 

All I see is my little boy wearing a pie pan helmet, cookie sheet armor,  

black Nikes with washable marker lines on his arm waving a wooden spoon, defying an imaginary foe.  

Poor, poor arms he has grown beyond your reach. He is a man who wants to make a difference  

Difference? The little brother he prayed for still needs him.  

Your keep cannot protect him 

His hands are eager to rebuild and protect

Build? He has still to fix the couch his dog destroyed.  

You cannot grasp what he is about to do

His skills are prepared for battle.  

Skills? He is Charming or Challenging. Pick one! 

Release him and embrace the call to war

He wants me to be ready to let him go but...

My love is a binding thread that 

will not give in to despair or fear 

and is ready to capture disquieting thoughts  

as I look him straight in the eye

Never letting go of who I see there

FASHION FRIGHT INTO FREEDOM 

Fashioned 

The hand of blame holds attention 

While arms grab and gather burdens 

A raised palm holds accusation, proving cause 

As memory chalks up more offenses 

Judgment points a finger, capturing the attack 

Justifying a broken heart's embrace of injury 

Pounding fists, vindication empowers departure 

While the body hardens, hunches and hungers 

The dismissing wave of self-righteous declaration 

Leaves her standing alone 

Holding only what was fashioned 

By her own hands 

Fright  

Night wraps its cloak around her 

Chilling her wounds to stir, while resisting relief from pain 

The heart pressures the voice into silence 

Her gut screams for feeling, the desire once there escaped 

Drawn up as a broken sculpture 

This hour cannot continue, only dreams must be delayed 

Panic binds her breasts  

Under a shield of arms, that protect and harbor fear  

Using words would be reckless 

Being quiet is painful, yet the cause for listening is useless 

Silence is a deafening reminder 

That breath is stale, when touch is corrupted  

Imagination’s journey is perilous 

Her eyes could shut, but they would free darkness 

Freedom  

She climbs to the slanted top, of dread’s highest dome 

To wait – To watch artful tapestry of new landscapes unfold  

Graceful hands shape themselves around the fear of being alone 

To feel - to trust defeats isolation and touch is slowly restored 

Release catches breath, her path of flight unknown  

To soar - to roam unafraid of the freedom to explore 

Ecstasy,’ Maxfield Parrish, 1930, Oil on Panel (Image: Public Domain)

RESURRECTION'S DANCE 

Prostrate I touch the still cold ground not yet warmed by spring’s embrace 

But in the tomb, haven womb unseen 

Wild applause awaits 

Victorious cheers are encased 

of those whose eyes first saw  

His human form descend 

Even from a distance, their eyes beheld 

Ransomed upon a tree 

Holding Hell’s key 

The Only One to defend 

​

Dance!   Adam! 

Dance!   Eve! 

Dance!   Oh, Captives Free! 

The resurrection of Christ icon 

This is my first poem. Written in a Kennedy Center Artists as Educators workshop led by poet educator Sandy Lyne. 

MORNING'S GATE 

Stumble out of the night  

Rise gently from sleep  

Surface to behold the dawn 

Wake... 

Stirring beckons stillness 

Stretching harkens attention 

Postures of replenishing  

Revive... 

The wind lifts and lowers  

F­­­­­loating leaves and limbs 

Window’s view of morning’s breath 

Wait... 

At first light’s cadence 

Bird harmonies crescendo  

To capture runaway thoughts 

Focus... 

Quietly the melody  

In the song of silence 

Unlocks and opens morning’s gate 

Enter... 

The Wind 

  cannot be captured so it coerces the leaf, needle and seed to frely fly 

  chooses a tempo and a dance to reveal its secret destination 

  frolics through the canopy of trees and is a fragrance courier to every living being 

  tickles the surface of the pond with ripples that call to the creatures below 

  whispers the secret that ends winter, to the charming tiny bluets covering the hillside 

  teases and swirls around the thistle’s crown who is unbending to such futile musings 

  toys with brittle leaves enough to unveil mounds of emerald and peridot moss 

  plays with strands of Irie’s hair flying along the quiet tire swing’s current 

  chases Jax to the dock, catching him with goosebumps and shivers 

  tussles Rocky’s curly coat, blows back his ears, closes his eyes with a sunny breeze 

  strokes Cat’s ears, mocking her tail as she darts, stalks and races through the field  

  startles us as it rushes, groaning loudly through the thicket, snapping twigs and low branches 

     howls when it’s wild 

           wanders humming gently 

                  whistles while playing 

                          SCREAMS if forced 

​guides the clouds over thirsty landscapes, watching eyes and imaginations 

​      inspires deep thoughts 

             conjures streams of memories 

                    carries voices of loved ones 

                           brushes tears from our cheeks 

The Wind 

MOM!? #*Perish the thought  Banish temptation  Pass up adventure  Bohemian in nature  Don’t draw attention  Avoid detection  Assume the stance!  Cause Heaven forbid...  MAMA SHOULD DANCE!

DANCE WITHSTANDS THE SIREN SONG

Awake without eyes open 

Alert with thoughts retreating 

Attentive within alluring distractions 

Peace withstands competing passions 

Living without fear’s energy 

Tears with welcomed gladness 

Joy within befriending sorrow 

Faith withstands constricting anger  

Savoring without consumption 

Singing with a silent drum  

Hope within unscripted stories 

Dancing withstands the siren’s song 

case your project!

CANOPY OF TREES

Wash me as I pass under lace foliage of shimmering branches 

Brisk streams of light fashion 

Piercing rays off gleaming lances 

Let me breathe as I pass through the shelter of armor arched 

Harbor for the heart and soul 

Seasons refresh the parched 

Oh blessed freedom as I pass from this canopy of trees 

Hope upon its threshold waits 

Trembling as it is seized 

​

Photo by Ramona Edwards - Uplifting Images on Facebook. A memory from Sneed Acres in Nashville, Tennessee

HOW COULD SHE 

SHE knelt down 

With open arms, reaching for Anger 

“Come to me.  Let me see you. 

Tell me all your woes and fears.   

I do not loath your appearance.  

And not afraid of what I will hear.” 

SHE stood 

Where she could be seen  

Gently calling to Guilt 

“Show yourself. Stop hiding 

 My heart longs to embrace and forgive 

Let us share the kiss of peace.” 

SHE laid down 

Next to Powerlessness and whispered 

“I am here but not the one who can help  

Offer me your hand and I will lend my voice 

Together we will cry out  

To the one who can save us.” 

How could SHE do such things? 

How could SHE not! 

ONLY CHILD'S SIBLINGS
Fear, the oldest  Loneliness selfish  Thought is the strong-willed child  Anger, the meanest  Time messy  Memory is forgetful   Knowledge, the wanderer  Opinion sensitive  Listening is selfishly insecure  Sorrow, the controller  Happiness undependable  Imagination is the one I adore  Silence, the shyest  Reading playful  Dreaming is free and wild I love my siblings, my dysfunctional family  They make up the dance I call ME

A BAD DREAM 

I walk into a wordless adventure 

where darkness holds discomforting silence  

on the edge of a visionless view  

perceptions will not be preserved for memory  

shadows move;  

formless screams seek freedom 

Run 

through restless veils of sleep 

my footing slips  

falling slowly through the odorless incense of clouds 

heights insurgence is tasteless  

rancorous heartbeats echo silently 

the frantic search for touch 

Elusive 

suddenly the abyss is replenished by a presence 

singing to my heart  

stroking and soothing panic  

calm slowly spirals breath’s rhythm 

dispersing the fog of fear 

a voice caresses waking  

Shhhh I’m here 

REVELATION 

Love survives 

​

In the midst  

of loneliness  

with disbelief

So does 

​

The woman 

even if disappointment 

becomes a standing posture 

when  

the curtain 

is drawn back  

it reveals 

a woman  

who intimately 

knows  

​

The survivor 

​

INSTEAD 

Woman 

You don’t need years to be old 

Just give away loveliness  

Anger’s labyrinth of caverns 

Holds allure, hostage and slave 

Empty disappointments 

Robbed your eyes of joy 

Tears are denied passage  

Life’s dance stricken blind 

I’ll  

Dare to turn, and stop 

Languishing’s song is hopeless 

Courage appears to face fear 

Mirror’s image is wrong 

A true creation of sorrow 

Love is not dead only starved  

Hope is alluring not eluding 

Wake younger than yesterday  

Instead 

WHAT I MISS 

The flow of glances that drew me straight into your arms without ever moving my feet 

The course of distance instantly shortened  

when you called out my name 

The cyclical churn that stretched my love  

as your shoulder brushed pass mine 

The breath that caught the moment in time  

my love for you was realized 

MY LIFE 

Death defying skate on thin ice 

Masked in mannerisms humble and contrite 

Spastic movements fearful of strife 

Threatens my sanity threatens my life 

Toxic the air beneath the clay mask 

Awkward the dance, exhausting the task 

Of sustaining the frolic with the absurd 

Never acknowledged never heard 

Looking with eyes that have never been seen 

Reaching with hands that have never been deemed 

Worthy of touching what I long to grasp 

I see the cold glaring eyes of the asp 

Ascending and climbing the spiral staircase 

Bitten by vertigo’s crippling embrace 

Descending only to once more begin 

A cycle I repeat over and over again 

Grief is my partner in this lonely dance 

Truth sings a song; the asp to entrance 

Faith, the source of soothing peace 

Love sends a messenger to cultivate belief 

Covenants preserved in hope not fate 

Indifference is not an embalmed state 

Miraculous mention of mysteries spoken 

Cords unknotted, rebound not broken 

The barren ledge now lets water fall 

Agile the climb to surmount cliff’s wall 

Swift decent to bless still waters 

Endless source that saves and alters 

My life 

TRANSLATION 

For Lara my inspiring and wise health coach and friend

​

I replaced  

Why am I  

with  

While I am 

And became a seeker of hope 

I rephrased  

What am I 

 into  

When I am  

And became a finder of hope 

I translated  

If I were  

as  

Since I am  

And became an offering of hope 

I exchanged 

I am not  

for  

As I am  

And came to know the God of hope