Bio coming soon…

About the Garden      

She carves the scented air
		in curves of sleight,
	in fact, indefatigable delight.

	Demurely she dallies about the thyme,
		and gathering her phlox with care;
	loosestrife runs rife, relents everywhere.

	She attends the tendrils throughout the vines
		and thoroughly thins the burgeoning fruit
	that’s trellis-hung, to stir the deepest root.

	Ah! She walks in grace, gracefully sublime,
		threading an oh so easy pace
	in arcs, inclined along the lines
		where heart’s-ease hems the skirted rows.

	Look there! a gossamer-gowned goddess shows
		about the yard, her arms florally bent
	along the arbor’s rose-filled scent.

		Then when she goes to where she grows,
	buds bloom, leaves unfold, stalks will climb;
		and so, preternaturally,
	her bounteous beauty bestows.

The World Became Fresh      

Let us lie laced within this limned hollow,
keeping our ease in the curve of this crease.
Let us set our hearts between these covers

embracing the fold of these leaves;
cradled close where sounds unfurl
these letters from quickened slumber,

these numberless souls who follow
where books fall open, in linen hand laid,
sewn in signatures perfectly spoken
and perfectly bound.
 
Where books fall open no ears will deceive,
	no tongue misspeaks, nor act mislead,
here all words are swept new afresh, bringing

charmed finches in chittering trees, 
             O hear! and here in the Garden new found
no stories are lost, no voices will cease

           singing in carrels across, that deep glade
in the glen, meadow-rich in birds,
           where nothing loved is ever forgotten
where books fall open among the trees,
                                               	
for here the leaves abide
as butterflies, bearing bright asters
opaquely translucent, ritely given,

and rightfully wrought in mother-of-pearl,
            lightly in rhymes across the brook’s margent,
where words flourish afresh, ladled

in water, driven refreshed by the breeze
            where books fall open,

where all hearts reside
in the wisdom of God, ever ardent
and ever green, where the brook flows brightly,

~ bourn of the broken cleansed clean in the shoals ~
where books fall open, where bright stars swirl
wafting about the whirling words,

that envelop all hearts from far to near,
in clear atones, in songs to be shriven,
and banishing fear where books fall open.

Here hearts are nourished, here hearts weigh hope in
where brilliant light lightly hovers
in numberless flames, in green canopies,

where books fall open, and the branching limbs
the Spirit uplifts with praise, and extols
where books fall open under the steep blue

and vaulting sky, that frames
             all hearts whose hymns
sing where books fall open, there Truth proclaims:
                      	
Love endures, is carved within our souls.