The Lil’ Girl


There’s no talk of fairies here, my dear. Or of imaginary friends you seem to dream. There’s no flights of fancy or pretend tea time. Dolls sitting encircled about you enraptured by your words. For heaven’s sake! What are you, four?

Thunder claps and she jumps as lightning flashes under her cracked door. She’s crouched on her bed, holding her teddy, under her blanket, waiting for more.

What have you been writing there? A silly story about farm animals? Motioning toward her bed side table. I’m supposed to swoon and sway because it rhymes this time?

She looks over at the book beside her, hoping her mom doesn’t see. The little white Bible she treasures and hides. Talking to God and telling Him stories, they are mine! She thinks to herself. Wondering if He laughs at her too, thinking her a fool.

How can any little girl teach herself to read? Her mom opines. You can’t read and write already, someone must have taught you. Tell me whom it was that did this deed, teaching you to read.

I’m so tirrred, mommy, Can’t I just go to sleep? Or must you stand there hollering? I didn’t do anything deserving.

Reaching out she slaps the lil’ girl across the face. What is this white book? I’m taking it away. And her mom angrily stomps out the door.

She’ll get what she deserves, the lil’ girl thinks to herself. Maybe not today but another…






I gazed through the open window~Searching, longing, looking~But can’t find the trees today

I played with light yesterday~fading in and out of shadows~But can’t find the light today

I gauged his laughing sounds and mouth~Saving the memory of his face~I can’t find the laughter now

You there, reading my private thoughts~Invasive and intrusive~Demanding a conclusion to this verse~

I’ll write the end you need

Then find a way to help me see.




Photo courtesy of

I died when I tumbled over the ledge~

I fell or maybe I wandered-off the edge
Did I fall of my own mistake?
Or when I flew, did someone force me?
Tell me the truth you always seem
To have wanted me to sleep and dream-
Of better days and brighter thoughts-
What thoughts are these! Of rocks.
It was dark I couldn’t see
But the moon shined light down on me.
You yelled and screamed and grabbed my waist-
Madness in my eyes, you act in haste.
Or was the madness in your eyes and the haste of my action-late?
You made me fall. You did, indeed
You pushed me and I fell with speed.
Once something far away so near
An image seen in the distance but then right here.
In my face slammed the ancient ground
I felt destroyed like prey with hound
I lost my mind when you attacked.
Images became dim and faded to black.
How you hover below me close
Crying mad thoughts, I suppose.
The bitter, silent tears I hear
As I look down on you with fear.


A poet is born not taught
A person either has it or not
Poetry cannot be learned-only sought
The burden formed in the soul
Burns from the depths of Sheol
Wanting to come alive
Creating a kind of drive
Thoughts have to be on paper
Words must be formed! Come out!
The verse brought to life, end of drought.



Available on Amazon. This is a short story called Apple’s Song that I edited for a lady. I had so much input and she liked it so much that she made me co-author! If you need an editor please see my above contact email.