"Lavender Cloak" from my Victorian Series
available in greeting cards,posters and giclee



We all have a history that includes some regret by a certain age. I think remembering that history is something to learn from. I know if you are reading this that you do too. Yesterday I could not stop crying, yet today because of those tears, hopefully, I will notice someone else's. We get busy though don't we? We fail to see and hear the lives around us as we continue on our own pathways. Blades of grass are crumbled beneath our feet. I wrote "It is not I" so many times because of regret of course. We all hold ourselves in better esteem than someone who has missed an obvious a cry for help. I guess the goal is to do better 'today', to smell the rose sweeter in their honor.

"I Kiss Your Shadow"

It is not I
not in my soul nor heart.
I could not have missed your pitiful tear.
I saw you walk away,
after we spoke,
glances did not know.

I am a swan in spring
my wings deliver different outcomes.
Yesterday I missed the sunrise
but a swans song promises a following day.

Poor flower of mine
how did I miss your message?
Ohhh it was not I.

I wish so much to say
what I should have easily let go
had I known.
I have much to tell you
too late.

Ice blue tints missed thoughtfulness.
It was not I.

I need to go back and start over.
I could have planted flowers
we would both reminisce about tender beginnings
plan bouquets of caring
share emotions that would include possibilities.

My ship is lavender now.
Cold days blend with red roses.
I think of you often
hear forever your calling out for rescue.

I pack a suitcase to go back in time.
I am reproached by my own selfish needs
and not knowing what to do
not knowing what to wear to a young girls funeral.

I think of Lord Byron
a poem I memorized as a young girl
similar days
another friend lost to early frailties.

I whisper those words to you in part:

"And thou art dead as young and fair
as aught to mortal birth;
And form so soft, and charms so rare,
Too soon returned to Earth!
Though earth received them in her bed,
and o're the spot the crowd may tread
in carelessness or mirth,
There is an eye which could not brook
A moment on that grave to look"

Ah yes, so I beheld it not
I beheld them not.
It is not I.

I said those words so often
I bare no excuse at all.
It was not I?

Tender is this day
Colors seem muted
or is it that they are too bright?

Blades of grass remind me of your journey
as I walk I feel you all over again.

Worlds below the grass
things I never noticed.
I cannot bend the colors
nor the blades of grass
their day is set.

I sing only in shadow
now filled with regret.
It was not I.

We had pizza last night for dinner
frozen from the grocery store.
I fed the cats and dog this morning,
heard an airplane overhead,
people going places
living their lives
continuing on.

I think of you often
I remember that last day
and I kiss your shadow.