Saturday, July 29, 2006

and now, for something completely different

A Game of Tag

Five Things in My Freezer
1. ben and jerry's
2. coffee
3. uncooked chicken
4. eggo waffles (mm, I forgot about those!)
5. corn

Five Things in My Closet
1. too many clothes
2. a shoe rack (with shoes)
3. spanish tracts
4. a box full of pictures from before I had a digital camera
5. drawers full of scarves and socks and undies

Five Things in My Car
1. a satin pillow
2. an old water bottle
3. window visor things that are falling apart
4. an empty starbucks cup
5. a couple of mix CDs

Five Things in My Purse
1. a pen
2. credit cards
3. a comb
4. blistex
5. receipts that i write everyone i need to remember on

I tag . . . Sheri?

Sunday, July 16, 2006

the happiest place on earth

Moving slowly along the ride,
The adjacent seat is filled with emptiness –
Not of someone who was,
But someone who will be.

Maybe it's because I'm in the land of fairy tales,
Where "someday my prince will come" isn't politically incorrect
That this ever-present emptiness feels heavy today.

Walt, why did you tell me that a princess I wouldn't be
Until my prince finds me?

My hand falls on the cool plastic.
I close my eyes, imagine a touch.
But when eyes are open,
only the emptiness remains.

I will return and say that I'm satisfied and whole.
But yet, "It is not good for man to be alone."

Thursday, July 06, 2006


“I don’t wear mascara,”
I remember you once said,
“It makes me look like a daisy.”
Is that statement now dead?

For now you do paint your face,
And wear your clothes like the others.
In a sea of dainty daisies,
You appear like just another.

But a common daisy you are not.
Your talents make you stand tall.
You are a beautiful lily,
Sprouting to be admired by all.

Perhaps you are not a flower,
Rooted in the world’s clay,
But a white heron
Who rises with the day,
Skimming across the river –
Your canvas, your stage –
Wings painted by art and melody,
Gifts you possess beyond your age.

The pale flowers watch you from afar,
Vanity fades, leaving nothing but broken stems.
But you soar higher with the wind
Your feathers lasting gems.

I wrote this three years ago for my cousin. In honor of her visit this past week, I've decided to post it. That, and my writing this past week just seems a tad dry. Oh well, you never know when inspiration will strike! But I am proud of this one.