What if I have written it all away? All those important things I had to say, And my creative mind fades in aging? Should this old woman sit silent? Observing only, as life’s passions relent? And ambitions fray beyond assuaging? Is this the day I’ve become irrelevant? A life of experience now, an … More Irrelevant?
On a sunny day my thoughts are lifted high Stretched relaxed peacefully adrift in an azure sky High pressure is my delight! On a cloudy day my thoughts plummet to the earth Heavy leaden weights of dusty sorrow bereft of mirth Low pressure is my fright. On a warm summer day my pain melts … More The Artist
What is this quietude of thought I don’t recognize? Is there nothing left for me to say? Did I work so long and now this truth I must realize? There’s nothing new to be written anyway? All’s been said before with no new method to merchandize, Truth. My life I spent thinking I must … More Truth is Action
I want to go to that Heavenly land where poetry is borne on lilac perfume. And heart-felt prose flow in mighty rivers of sparkling-clean, ideal dreams. That golden refuge that houses my muse whom I love, cherish, and adore! Ah, splendid solitude! Lost in sacred act of weaving ideas on creative loom; Retrieving Truth from … More Artistic Joy