“A poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

What's It All About?


Please don't look to me.
I am humbled by my dearth
of true certainty.

While we reside here,
we excel, fail, and just are.
We may find love's source.

In our finite time,
all seems really important.
Precious few things are.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

I Deplore …


becoming housebound
my friendship circle dwindling
social life a bust

peeing all the time
being unable to work
money running short

not knowing how much
MS can take credit for
life's seeming shortfalls

Wednesday, April 15, 2015



On dewy Spring morns,
narcissus petals unfold
gossamer beauty.

Within the arbor,
interwoven tree branches
shelter loveliness.

Fed by reflections
on the winding water course,
fantasy takes flight.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Week from Hell and Good News


Like an invasion,
fever, coughing, and aching
took over my life.

As bad as I felt,
even worse was wondering
what MS would do.

What is the good news?
The flu has taken its leave.
The Beast seems quiet.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015



A leisurely walk
on surf-gentled sandy shores,
my feet sinking in.

A sprint up the stairs
with excitement in my voice
to share my good news.

A last-minute run
to the theater with friends
to watch a great film.