imagination
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III. Jairus’ Daughter (5:35-43)

As so often happens, life took priority over poetry. Indeed, I fear this is one of the reasons I am not destined to be the next Wordsworth or Dickinson; I am too quick to set my writing aside. Still, it is a least a little to my credit that I never abandon my writing forever! Continue reading
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From a Moonlit Run

Along with you I now will wax poetic, As you cast your spell upon this bleak canalRevealing the beauty of the beaten trail,Rendering me, in the truest sense, lunatic. A reluctant runner, no—I am no more;I am again a huntress as of old. I dash about, bright, brazen, beaming, bold:Forgotten fancy, myth of maiden lore. Continue reading
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A Poem to the Church of St. Edward King and Martyr

The words that lie written beneath our feet, Titles of saints, these graves in graven stones, The echoes of reformers’ gracious tones Which once and still all sinners here would meet. And still these words evoke fascination Of both pilgrim and poet’s seeking hearts, Quickening with the spirit each their arts, Knowledge grown into Imagination. Continue reading
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