My Window

Jack’s frost sparkles with the candle’s shifting light and
I’m here, sentry at my window, widow of your presence,
Awaiting your return, my wandering minstrel, precious love. . .
This lonely cabin’s warmth keeps you close --
Reverie, dreams of together times and the fires you’ve built. . .
My gaze reaches out to the fresh blanket, diamonds in the moonlight,
Fleeting treasures I wish I could gather and keep to share with you,
For when you once again glance my way and return
To me, my hungry arms. . .
Meanwhile, the candle’s wax spills like tears,
Though its flickering light is strong enough to guide your steps
Back home, as I keep watch here at my window,
Keeping Jack company . . .

Paula J. Botch
© November 2008

Dream Stars

Last night I dreamed . . .
Or maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a dream --
While moonbeams filtered through windows,
My darkened room began to quiver, shimmer . . .
Unbelieving, my eyes beheld
Dozens and dozens of tiny stars,
Stars everywhere, sliding
Down, down, down my walls
Little riots of light, leaping to and fro,
Pointed hands and feet sparking,
Sparking whatever they touched . . .
Lilting Munchkin laughter, ethereal,
Filled my ears
They frolicked and fluttered and flitted about . . .
And then tiny voices tinkled this little ditty:
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are . . .”
While they danced across piano keys and cartwheeled along my xylophone.
My delighted trance continued and I watched these sprites
As they flickered, faded into beams of the rising sun,
Bittersweet
This morning I found glitter . . .

© Paula J. Botch
April 14 & 15, 2009

Hampton

Sizzling sunshine illuminated our stolen, magical day
As we basked in a field of sand, dotted with hundreds of people, and
Icy ocean waves oozed along the field’s edge
We two were the only two as we talked and laughed and touched
Exciting our bodies, soothing our souls,
Hoping the day would never end, even as the hours slid by . . .
Suddenly, we were truly alone on the beach
Facing the softening setting sun, feeling its glow
As it ushered in the breezy evening, we held one another in the lowering light
Listening to the soft, sad cooing of gulls gliding above . . .
We knew our time was ebbing into twilight

©Paula J. Botch
July 26, 2003

All in the Eyes . . .

“Aye, aye,”
I saluted as
I eyed him,
And wondered
Why his eyes, suddenly so sullen,
Would no longer rise to meet
My eyes . . .

© Paula J. Botch
June 12, 2008

Driving through Maine

"RAPID REDEMPTION,"
The sign claimed. Alas, they dealt
With bottles, not souls.


~ by Corinne H. Smith

Art and Poetry Event!

Visions in Verse 3: Tapping The Muse

Date: Wednesday, May 20th

Time: 7 p.m.

Place: The Boland Room of Heywood Place, Cottage Street, Gardner MA

Admission: Free of charge ~ refreshments served

Our third collaboration with Greater Gardner Artists Association in conjunction with their annual Art show (which is held April 17 to April 19 in same location) is back by popular demand. Several area poets shall each choose a piece of art which inspires her to compose and read an original poem. Art and artists will be present. Check out how these two intertwining art forms "tap the muse!"

Visions In Verse Two - A Thousand Words

January Haiku

Sun hits snowy branch
POOF! An explosion of white
The melting begins


~ Corinne H. Smith

Creativity Exercise

The Amazing Technicolor Dreambook: Keep a notepad and pen on your nightstand. Immediately upon waking, write down anything you can remember from your dreams. None of it has to make sense -- this is just your right brain's way of processing the day's memories.

Something for the Holidays

"Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare think." --Henry Longfellow