I Can Never Say Love


I can never say love.

I see your wondrous blue eyes open wide,

wider than the breath of my devoted heart,

and you move away from my side.


I can never say “love,”

though my blood rushes when you near,

and the time together is never enough,

and the word is filled with fear.


I can never say “love.”

Nevertheless, we’re no longer the same,

becoming more and more one,

and caring does dull the pain.


I can never say “love,”

yet we meet it when our fingers touch,

when we raise each class of ruby wine.

To admit the truth would be too much.


I want to say “love,”

to release a burning cosmic energy,

to take you into me,

to unite in lovers’ ecstasy.


I want to say “love,”

and here you grateful to confess,

what we’ve tried so hard to hide,

no longer guilty of wanting more than less.


I can never say “love,”

I have only myself to blame.

Maybe we can say it,

but it’s not because we don’t,

it’s just because we do.



I watched him from my car window.

I’m waiting for the light to turn green.

He stands there, motionless,

armed with a paintbrush

dripping noiselessly

on the yellowing grass.

Pointing toward Heaven,

the brush releases

a pale gray river.

It trickles downward

cautiously charting

unexplored territory

this side of Elbow Hill.

A Camel has attached itself

to his sagging lower lip.

Searing smoke rises leftward

entering that tunnel to his mind.

He blinks

and a dried up river bed

collects the withered tear.

The light is about to change.

I’ll be free to go.

Inhaling deeply,

he puts down the brush.


I leave him chipping away


at all the years of

peeling paint.paint




the morning

ripped apart

by long, thin

read – nailed fingers,


the sleeping sky


golden rivulets

reach the earth


the little children


all alone on the corner


for the lethargic

loping, yellow beast,

shuttling them protectively,

carrying them

to the playground

above the gray horizon

which quickly fades

when night begins to fall.

The Gazebo


The Gazebo


A cool summer evening,

we walk in the sand.

We hear music,

it comes from the band

in the town.

Your hand in mine,

a soft, gentle touch.

I love you, and oh,

how you’ve come to mean so much.

The Gazebo, do you remember?

It was there we first met.

How were we to know that there

our destiny had been set


The Gazebo,

its beauty, its charms,

took to unwilling minds,

and forced them

to become entwined

in life

A Lesson In Painting I & II


Paint from within.

Use beauty and wisdom

to design your work.

Close your mind

to interruptions.

Paint from within.

See beyond your eyes

to reality and imagination.

Push the cold away.

Paint from within.

Bring lovers together.

Let them share

a stolen kiss.

Push away

the one who has been scorned.

Paint from within.

Bring the world to you,

so close

you can reach out and touch it.

Now, paint from within.




Colors are life,

paint not only pictures

but true life.

Paint with your heart

not your hands.

Colors are life.

Paint budding green trees,

not splashes of mixed oils

to give only allusion.

Smell the new growth

on a spring breeze.

Colors are life.

Paint secret meetings,

not stick figures

holding hands.

Paint love from within.

Colors are life.

Paint babies so real

you can hear them cry,

touch their velvet skin.

See beyond your eyes

to reality and imagination.

Colors are life, now paint!

Window on the world – A small slice of life

I remember when snowflakes, pointed and white, fell all the time, or so it seemed. Every day there was a blizzard of some duration and even the shortest one was so very welcome. I was at my happiest when I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.

I looked out of my small window on the world – – all the time. I hardly ever slept… then. There was too much to see, too much newness piquing a young and innocent curiosity. Orange and pink sunrises and bluebird blue skies chilled by the stealthy entrance of a silvery moon kept my imagination and hopes high.

It didn’t take me long to fall in love with life and Robin. He was always there, right from the first day my own memories begin. He was a giant towering way above me.  I can still see his smile, lined with teeth perfectly straight and glaringly white. I swear they were the brightest stars stolen from an unsuspecting sky, lying there asleep in the darkness.

Robin brought the snow. How we played together! He always tried to pile the snow up into dozens of drifts along the edge of our world.  I laughed at his shaking his hands and moving all around, trying to command the snow to do what he wanted. But the snow rarely listened.

Playing with the snow kept Robin occupied and around for a long time. We laughed together until we both fell down and the world turned topsy-turvy.

Robin was very caring. He turned my world right side up over and over again.  He always waited until the snow stopped falling and I was safe.


Copyright 1987