I started writing in the ninth grade while standing at large window on the forth floor of my high school. I would write in a free period or between classes. I would write of things I would think of or see out the window. I would attempt to rhyme my words and so called them poems.

I do not have formal training, nor do I follow rules that one could adhere to, when writing a poem. Th exception of course, would be a Haiku which after all, is not a Haiku unless written as such.

I would later expand my poems into stories or tells and the rhymes would wither, but not always. You will see many other writings of mine that are not poems, but now and again, I will pen a poem, in my voice, rhyming when I feel to or when a rhythm just appears. I hope you enjoy this collection of what I am calling Poetry.

As a side note, my Dear Great Aunt Norie wrote poems as well and I have published them along side my own for others to enjoy. Her poems do in fact rhyme and tell of times, stories and thoughts dear to her heart. You can read the introduction to her work here.

Taller than Me

He gave me this gift- Nothing is impossible-

My Youngest Son

i watch- as he breaths life in, changing what is around him.


Then there are … diversions …


She speaks with me-

Let Light Be

Dark has its place …

Another Day

There will be …

Begin …

There is hunger in the unknown, in which always, is found-

Winds Sing

Anxious birds stir and twist, able feet clutching to small twigs-


You do not know the what will be.

Her Voice

She lifts the Hope within my heart-


Nothing is still …

a Weed

There had been a decision of- What would stay and what would go.

the Love of Rain

There are times we found ourselves- waiting for the train …


It is the rhythm of life that connects us- Separates us and sends us to those places of reflection … Causes pause in all that we are and do- Ultimately drives us to take action and move forward … In the best way that supports one’s life and those lives around us- It is the…

My Piano

Something I felt I could not do on my own-

The Chasm

we climbed the moon and stopped near the top.


Her birthday this day, March 3, 1906 .. We loved toast and coffee.

In All Our Years

in all our years- and there are many of them-


I feel her presence in the air, on the land, in her home.


Our mother held us for a day

Near You

what am i suppose to do-

Birds and Rain

Most birds do not fly, because of risks I’m told …

Surfing Life

The tropical fish were very colorful and for the most part, interested only in their daily life, foraging for food and swimming around doing what fish do.

Bird’s Sleep

The subtropical sunrise nowadays is a bit later here …

Just Live It

I do not recall if I thought of the imminent arrival of night. I just played the day as if there would be forever light.


Abundance is not only the large quantity of something, but the presence of something we need in that moment.

Morning is Here

There is a quiet amidst as birds sleep in …

Love Thy Nature

… we have only been here for one second …

Sand and Sea

An intimate connection dives deeper than physical needs of one another …

love her this morning hour

i love to hear the song of feathered friends become excited from the hints of lights and begins.

Into the Open

The birds had been awake for some time now, chirping and fussing of this and that.

Love and Risk

Our attempt to live fully with another.

Our Souls

What is our soul doing in those early moments of day?

Someone to Stay

We try to make it on our own, away from a home we once had …

love me as … I​ Love You

A love so free is all each of desires; To be accepted as we are, to be needed, to be loved.


the winds of time are many- the thoughts and dreams of one life- a soft breeze-

Daddy’s Home

… realizing i am here, for only a while.

Nature in Harmony

I ponder how will any of us be able to save the day?

The Little Sword

He must have used it, often and with ease, opening a letter or two. I like to think he did.

There is …

There is the hope, the when, the longing to be and do and to find.

Treystu Bara

Each day anew with challenges more than a few.

Heavy Rain

I’ve not noticed the lack of rain for some days now, here in Haiku.

a school day

… I could not wait till it was time for recess.

of Land and Sea

nothing is permanent … not even rocks-

a Tattoo

embeds them in the canvas of your life

but Perhaps

I hope that one day we will come together again-

On the Beach

Your stillness mattered most, amidst the threat of driving rain.

as it Seems

Everything is as it seems.

If not for Rain

If not for Rain … She is not ours to keep. She wakes us from our sleep. She breathes a life on Her own terms. … enlists the help of many worms. She lives life in Her own way. She rests in the still of the night. She turns our dark into day. She does…

Hold Me

There was much more to Charles Darwin’s Galapagos than he could have ever imagined.


When I wake up in the morning I am awake. There is the kitchen. A selection of nine coffee cups wait patiently to be the one. I find fresh water flowing from a shiny reflective pipe and pour it into a shiny reflective pot. There is a container of liquid taken from the earth, brought…


The layers have worn away, leaving little or no trace at all, of how they were connected. I realize something existed and must still, but ice or snow or air … warm or cool, buffers even the thought of a connection to those things that I felt were real and sound and always to be-…


in nows, breathing in, breathing out, holding- close step one, closer step two, arms opening- each us, our own space, opened, vulnerable- slowly, firmly, affectionately, breasts touching- limbs seek and find, eyes closed … hearts open, bodies embracing- sweet and lush, air in and out, life in- still, still, still, hold, hold, holding- ba ba,…

a Thread

There is a Thread, frayed a bit, yet very soft and strong and true- Tis looped and laced deep within and running through all I do- the end of which is longing for you. ❤


a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora

My Husband

a poem by Eleonora

Blond Lover

a poem by Eleonora

Bitter Words

a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora

In Situ

a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora

New Cat

a poem by Eleonora


a poem by Eleonora

Waiting Tree

I love that you took the time to visit …

Our Embrace

Some say time does not stand still- It moves as we, on and forward, up and down, left and right- And through all of this, we sleep and wake, we live and find joy, and hope and love, and believe that, perhaps it could, if only for a day, if only for a moment- And…

Listening to Her

I have known many people during my stay. Within me lives a quiet, kind and gentle Soul. She does not speak outwardly that often, but She does, constantly, daily and every minute and second of my life, speak quietly to me. I love Her. My body and mind have played the games of life, of…

Roots Desire

The soil does not question the desires of the roots, but allows them to grow. She holds water and food for the growing plant, and does not ask for anything in return. The roots embrace her slowly, strongly and lovingly- And then- The plant blossoms and gives the beauty of their collaboration to us all-…

the bird

knows not why She falls from the sky, knows not why the once light turns to night, knows not why the fun is all done, only to huddle and cuddle what’s left near and dear- however and always upon Her return, rejoices in song and thoughts of a sky as night becomes light and does…

We Are One

Stepping onto the forest floor, we know not the others’ thought, the events of the others’ day nor the plights each or both may have fought. As notes of music stir and rise, embracing each others’ lives we connect our soft hands, capable of moving lands- As our trunks become one, our shoulders strong, our…

Soon to Bloom

Silently the seed sits below the earth in darkness, wet and alone- As days of sun warm the earth and seed, soon- Stirs and wakes, changing completely from once to new. As first breaths are taken and water sipped, the sun ebbs the precious life into full bloom. In those moments when all that matters…


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