When stairways wound to leaded glass
And deep Oak stain glowed red with age
Wine is slumbering below in luxury
Hearty laughs have echoed loud
Cotillions and silk and dreams of the rich
A girl makes her way to the window
One last goodbye before she goes
She certainly didn't choose to be born here
She gathers up her luggage and slips quietly out the door


Going Home

Her house has that familiar smell
That takes your breath away
The warmth of Mothers arms again
To keep the wolves at bay

Faces looking just like mine
Are smiling in reply
Tales are told, babies held
We laugh until we cry

Going home is deceptive
Not all is as it seems
Factories forever looming
No promises or dreams

The neighborhood now seems faded
Her colors turned down just a hue
The taverns are full, the welfare rolls
And we're all enjoying the view


Hope is a tonic

A man stepped out from among the crowd
Demeanor calm, his voice was loud
He said great things are yet to be
Have faith in you, have faith in me


Time Traveler

Shaking the stardust out of her hair
She had safely made it to the other side again
Time traveling had become her latest obsession
Wearing period clothes, she strolled along the avenue
Parasol in one hand, gloves and pocketbook in the other
Her hands traced patterns on Russian enamel vases
A massive bronze statue of Diana stared down at her while
a fountain splashed and danced in the background
She stood in a chapel of Louis Tiffany design
Ate Cracker Jack and rode the ferris wheel
Gazed at works by L'Hermitte
Chicago, World's Fair, 1893


Mrs. Cook

Mrs. Cook wore her hair swept up in a bun
Her dress covered in a long apron
Wide brim hat when she was out in her garden
Husband came home smelling of whiskey every day
Sister and I would visit her when he was at work
Kindly and small and ancient to me
Her face wore the lines of a thousand years
Tiny house kept tidy and warm
Only to turn into a shack when I reached adulthood
She was laid to rest on a sunny day
The obituary clipping is in my bible


Widow's Walk

The salty air does nothing to calm her darkest fears
She waits upon the cliff-top, seems like it has been years

Her home provides a widow's walk, but that would mean defeat
And so she waits along the shore, the waves keeping the beat

Straining her green eyes afar, to spot a distant sail
Townsfolk think his ship went down, in a sudden gale

She reaches for a locket that she wears around her neck
She fiddles with it all the time, her nerves they are a wreck

Inside two lovers face to face, in sepia and gray
Painted rouge upon their cheeks feigns winters chill away



She had a twinkle in her eye
A diamond sparkling in an azure sea

Her laugh was infectious
Like a cool jazz piece in New Orleans

She could keep a secret
Like a child holding tightly to a dream

We could act ourselves together
Little girls holding buttercups under our chins

She left the world a gift
A blessed son, her little warrior

He holds her brilliance in his vision
And keeps her close to those that cherished her



The world erupted from dark to light
Everything I knew was turned inside out
Holding you now in the crook of my arm
Smiling down on your soft countenance
Sweeping lavendar scented curls
A tiny pink nightgown hangs on the line

She'll call me Grandmother