Just published, Book III

SEA GLASS SOUL - Invisible Colors, Poems and Paintings

My poetry and Pat Morgan's art - available at,
The Sea Glass Poetry Trilogy is now complete.

Sunday, May 27, 2012


Written for my dear friend, Jim.  For 25 years we walked our neighborhood at 6 a.m. and talked about many things important and trivial.  He told me about the things he loved and those that angered him.  Twenty-five years of talks is a long time.  I have moved away and I miss those walks.

I am Volume G of Britannica
In a carton on the floor,
Storage closet 83,
Made archaic
By the internet,
But I remember sunlight
While on a shelf, my friend Jim
Picking me up, always
Thumbing through my pages
With tender, inquisitive fingers.

Our first time,
He looked up gooseberries
For a lady wearing a flowered hat.
His loving, but nervous touch
Betrayed his anxiousness to find
The answer to her inquiry.

One night he was alone
As he opened me and searched
For Gettysburg.  He spent
So much time with me;
I could tell he loved
Reading about the Civil War.

Then, there was the afternoon
He became angry with a librarian
Who stayed behind the desk and sent
A student alone in my direction.
He lectured her: take the patron
To the section, select the correct volume
And show them the page.
I felt goose bumps.

He would have stayed into old age,
Had he not also been caught in a techno-web.
He retired before his touch was cold.
Me, I am heading for a funeral pyre,
But I know Jim loved me
And I adored him
And his insatiable search
For answers.

Sunday, May 20, 2012


Bermuda blue,
The water shimmers
Bermuda blue.
Bottle it, the blue disappears,
A gift of heaven, lost.
Mother Nature has
No tolerance for
Childish things.

Like Mother’s bare breast
When not feeding time,
Want it,
Lust for it,
But don’t touch;
If you fuss,
She disappears
Behind white muslin.

Sunday, May 13, 2012


God surely invented chocolate,
Must have been on the eighth day.
It wasn't Eve tempted Adam,
It was chocolate made him stray.

Before I’d give up chocolate,
My obsession and heart’s desire,
I’d strip down to my underwear
And walk through brimstone and fire.

So if a thug waved his gun at me,
Said, “Your chocolate or you die!”
I’d kick him where it really hurts,
Then offer him chocolate cream pie.