Thresholds and Portals – A Collection of Poems

This book of poems began in Vienna, Austria, April 2013. It was birthed from writing prompts, silence in cemeteries, paintings that spoke to me and pastries that called my name. More poems came to life during November 2014 as I participated in National Novel Writing Month – NAWRIMO. 50,000 words gushed forth onto my laptop…

Ode to ‘The Kiss’ by Gustav Klimt

Your creator was a gifted artist Blending the richness of gold With the passion of red The dark black of night With the velvety carpet of floral green. I made your acquaintance At the Belvedere Museum in Vienna Pausing  in awe At the power of your tenderness, Now knowing I would fall in love with…

Ode to Genau

From the moment of our introduction in Vienna, Austria, I knew we were to become dear friends. What a delightfully wonderful presence  you are: Precise and playful, Full of promise and hope, Statement and simplicity. You can be exclaimed with a shout and strong conviction Or whispered quietly and almost musically from the lips. With…

Ode to Springtime

“Forget me not,” we cried, All the while knowing that sometimes, during the deep dark days of winter, You wondered would we rear our beautiful bowed heads? While the skies darkened, and the rains fell, We were quietly working our magic in the deep dark soil of the earth, Simply waiting for our time to…

Ode to Hands

To left and right, to  the shared balance of power between you, to the openness as you extend your palms in a welcoming greeting, I bow. To these ten fingers, to left and right, to the clapping and meeting as you salute others in peace, recognizing the presence of each divine soul, Namaste. To hands…

Reflections on Vienna

It began with a new pair of shoes, as all magical stories do, and ended with a ride in a horse drawn carriage. Could this be a fairy tale? Quite possibly.  It doesn’t have a wicked witch, a prince or an evil spell but it does have: beauty, color, beginnings, middles and endings and a…

Ode to soul filled Color

You stopped me dead in my tracks as I rounded the corner in the Albertina Museum. Your blossoming colors reached into my heart and my senses came alive to your fragrance, as if your very perfume could fly through the air from your canvas. Chagall, your mastery and imagery of ‘sleeping woman with flowers’ spoke…