There are roses along

a path near a marsh by a

a motionless bay.

My hands glide the stillness

of your face that I love like

summer wildflowers.

The sun hangs like ripe fruit

and sparks become fire.

Soon winter’s wind will

chill our bones and the

silent wilderness of longing.

Beyond The Path" - Steve Hanks

Beyond the Path…Steve Hanks





The Shallows

House of Heart

wheeling jagged edges

above the shallows

of a rough Dover sea

I am a lone bird.

My feathers gleam in the beacon of

the lighthouse where gentle swells

pulse against rocky shores

where you held me tenderly

like a treasured pearl.

We’ve abandoned the lighthouse

that seems to lean closer to the sea

waiting in vain at the tide swept shore.

The beam has ceased its search,

still each time I pass I  tip my  wing.

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There's a sickle of moon

above a lush forest floor

where scavengers pluck

flesh from the bones of

a wolf.

In my mind the wolf

hides inside me

waiting patiently the

impulsive lamb.

Dark heart I hear you

howling for possession

stars plummeting through

our veins.

A frenzy of birdsong

can not conceal the

longing that lingers

in these bones.


The sky is liquid,

a roll and clash of thunder.

The grass is tall

beneath the rain trees.


a stifling blanket of

isolation and a madness

that is not my enemy but

exposes everything for

what it is.


I ache to leave

my crying place

before melancholy claims

this ruinous summer.

Let me stretch

like some sexy feline,

a carnivorous Panther

succumbing to the

impulse to pounce.

Kenya Canvas Print featuring the photograph The Watcher by Denis Charles

Photography by Dennis Charles

To Get To You

The sun is slipping down the horizon 
the sunset threatens to disappear
Like a rusty penny
An echelon of wild geese gather above
so I follow grey wings into the storm.

My arms are branches and you are
my nourishment
cut me down to a boat.
My spine a sturdy keel , my hair
unfurled sails.  A distant lighthouse
my only lamp for you hold the stars
in your hand.
If red sails are cast into a cleft too
deep for me to cross
I was trying to get to you. 


The chicklets made me start drawing. Chicklets and Halloween.

The Chicklets are back ❤️

Rethinking Life

Everyone is trying out their costumes for the party.  The chicklets have learned, over the years, that their wings must be free, and they have to be able to use their beaks.

Clarese is going as a very nice vampire, who rescues animals from bad people. James is going as a clown.  But clowns are not liked very much, since they often frighten the baby chicklets and bunnies, so James said he may change his costume and be a race care driver instead  Fuzzy Tail is a Super Shero.  She made her cape all by herself, and is very happy that she joined the costume committee a few months ago.

Costumes are in flux, changes are being made on a daily basis, so no one is sure about anything, which is a big part of the fun.

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The trees are filled with blossoms
they wave beneath the pale sky
like pink hands of impish children.
Meet me in the orchard
before summer slips away,
I want to dip my hand in
the cold brook just to feel
the ache.
Naked among bird of paradise
sun-drenched thighs wet with dew
feed me sweet red apples
while they are nothing more
than fruit. 
Why Was There Forbidden Fruit in the Garden of Eden in the First Place?


Thank you dear Maxima , I’m extremely honored. Aleksandra , such a beautiful recital, thank you so much. ❤️


I am honored and pleased, my dear friends
What I can say here today is that the recognition for excellence for the beauty of the narrative in the poem this time travels to the U.S. to our esteemed poet, Holly Hunter.
Thank you, dear Holly, for enriching our souls with the beauty of your poetry.

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Blood Rose

The night is wet,
drops of  rain  glisten
on a slick sidewalk.
In my hurry I step through
shallow puddles that
Glisten in the misty glow
of  amber street lamps.
There is a trace of salty
blood where I’ve bitten 
my lip but my eyes  brim
with life and nonsensical love.
When we meet you kiss
lashes silvery with tears and 
taste blood rose on
shivering lips. 
For the moment we forget
you  want too much and that 
 I will take whatever you  give.
Photo by Marta Dzedyshko

” I love you, I love you,
Like a fool, like a soldier
Like a movie star
I love you, I love you
Like a wolf, a king,
Like a man that I am not “

je t’aime ” by Serge Gainsbourg