I tip back my head as far as it goesTo see as far as my eyes can seeThe stars are so manyFilling the depthsOf spaceFarther than imagination stretchesTo visions unseen and ages oldStill unfoldingAs our planet spinsNight skyUnpolluted by street lightsIs hard to find nowBut I come from the…

Trees with wounded limbsWave wildly in the windSmall, green strings from fetal leavesDance in the music of the breezeThe hot, dry day turns dark with a sighClouds gather, rain begins to cryThunder rolls in, the symphony of mightIn the stormy cloak of approaching nightSleepy eyes, heavy with the storm’s serenadeCozy is the day as light starts to fade…

Sometimes only paperWill listen.Sometimes only the penWill speak.As I move to another chair,I leave the warmth ofThe seat I left behind,Because I search for a new perspective.I need a new view.My hand moves my pen.The ink makes its mark.The paper hears my pen,But does not converse,Remaining blank and open…

The End waited quietly by the door,And when I was not looking,Came into the roomAnd tapped me on the shoulder.Startled, My heart fell from my chest.I held it in my arms.Then my heart was gone.I had to let it go.Departing as silently as he came,The End Left like a thief in the night ©April 27, 2025Diane E. Dockum

Rain is soakingInto my muscles,My skin,My bones.Clammy air is inMy house.I wait for the furnaceTo start blowing warmth,And look for a sweater.I thinkI should put on socks.My mistake,It is too early for sandals.But the grass is greening,Buds are opening.One of these daysMy mind will turn to yardwork,

I remember my dad picking me up from school at lunchtimeI would ride home and he would make me a lunchMaybe a soup and sandwich Tomato and grilled cheese orChicken and rice and baloneyThen I would be driven back to schoolAnd dropped off outside the classroom door That's when that feeling would hit meI really didn't want to go back…

Photo by Fillipe Gomes on Pexels.com My dream would notreveal itself —It vanished with The dawn —Shadows caught inCorners of my eyes —Reflections moving onSmooth surfaces —A noise only ICould hear —Music from a distant room —Indistinct voices murmur From the back ofMy mindTo catch all that mercuryIn a sieveWould be a feat —Then I could show theSubstance, like aCobweb in the rain©️April 24, 2025Diane E. Dockum

It's nearly threeAnd time for Tea --At nineIt's time for wineI'll have anotherSnack at tenAnd maybe someMore wine by thenEleven, twelveOne, and TwoI will be sleeping --Hope I doAt three I peeAnd have a drinkBack to sleep'Til nine, I think ©April 23, 2025Diane E. Dockum

I ironed the shirts,The collars and the cuffs.I was careful around the buttons.I was a woman standingAt the ironing board, No matter who fell from the sky,No matter how many wars were happening.I hurried and sweated under My night gown.I cooked and cleaned and lovedNo matter what the politics.I was a woman.

In the quiet of the evening's embrace,Where shadows dance and day gives way,A cardinal sings with tender grace,Its song a beacon in the fading day.Oh cardinal, in the twilight's hue,Your melody, a bridge to skies above,A whisper of the love I once knew,Reminding me of my lost love.Your notes, like tears, fall soft and true,

There once was a rabbit named PeteWho wore a brown wrapper so neat.I bit off his headUntil he was dead,He was the best chocolaty treat. © Diane E. DockumApril 21, 2014 Just for a bit of fun I wanted to repost this “Easter” Limerick. Regretfully, I am fresh out of chocolate rabbits today. One can dream though. Happy Easter 🙏

Down the street the daffodils are bloomingMost folks have picked up the sticksAnd broken branches from their yard.The flags are hung out on nice days.Down the street aMurmuration of Starlings and a worm of robins bounceAlong, tweaking at grass and poking at dirt.Just before sunsetA gentle spring breeze is passing.To close your eyes…

Driving through a forest at nightDown hill most of the wayFeeling the pull of homeThe forest looks twice as darkWhen you have become Used to street lightsIf the road is unfamiliarYou become tiredBut you don't notice at firstBy the time you are near homeIt hits youHardThe roads are twisty and fogRolls across the roadOn-coming lights blind youAnd inevitably it will rain ©April 18, 2025 Diane E. Dockum

Photo by Thea Smith on Pexels.com Sunlight hangs form branches,Cedar and Maple,Just before the sun sets.New buds decorate the tipsIn red hues,While some trees stand like smokeFrozen into icicles andStiff as boney fingersClutching the lastBreth from the throat of winter.And time moves on.Blue-black sky is the backdropOf silhouettes darkening…

Roses of red, pink, whiteTwelve at first,Then eightThen fiveA family, siblingsThat go at different timesAnd petals dropOr curl and dryLeaves, no longer greenCrisp and fall awayNow, the last few remainStems blacken toward the topA touch of age hanging on to beautySending out their scentIn heavy vapors reachingRed deepens to bloodAnd pink, the shade of sleepWhite opens her petals wideAnd drops them like abandoned dreams ©April 16, 2025Diane E. Dockum

Upon my shelves the books in rows do stand,A library of dreams, both vast and grand.Each tome a world, a tale, a voice to speak,Yet time, the thief, makes every moment weak.With every dawn, the hours swiftly slip,As pages turn to dust within my grip.The stories wait in silence, still unread,While life demands its path by duty led.

April 15, 2025 Ok, so yesterday I could not come up with a poem, despite the fact that I was at writers’ group which usually inspires me for the next few days. I ended up pushing my deadline to a few minutes after midnight and posting an old Haiku written in 2014. I am hoping I can make up for it by extending poetry month into May 1 to add an extra day. I will try again today to fulfill my personal wish of a new poem each day.

Under the pavementWater roars to the riverI watch through the grateDiane E. Dockum©2014

Pulling a thread through timeUnraveling generationsI grew curious aboutMy ancestors and wantingTo know moreThe evening passed quicklyName after nameAnd tempted by the many Branches in my treeI concentrated to stayTrue to my missionSix generations laterNeck crampingEyes blurredI closed my laptopAnd my eyesBut the names stillCall to me Through time©April 13, 2025Diane E. Dockum

I close my eyes and search my mind for wordsThat say how I feel, but reach beyond myNarrow path. The night grows short as time slipsInto day, my eyes ache for sleep and dreams.I put this off as long as I can, butthis does not help me find elusive words.I go from here to there and back again…

Is this the year?Is it time?I've been putting it off But maybe this year -- Still not sure I can do it.Ashes to ashesDust to dustBut I cannot picture The finality Of the underground.But still it is my dutyAs the grieving wifeTo see to it No matter how much It disturbs me.Just that I cannotSay good-bye, everNot ever. Our parting was too quick, Is this why I delay? ©April 11, 2025 Diane E. Dockum

Photo by Ruslan Sikunov on Pexels.com Where sun is scarce, The snow retreatsTo hide in darknessAnd shadows deep.The trees are still,Like soldiers standAnd wait for sunTo heal the land.But gray’s the sky With threatening winds,And soon the snowWill fall again.©April 10, 2025Diane E. Dockum

In the hush of the dawning day,When winter’s grasp begins to sway,A whisper stirs within the breeze,Promising life among the trees.Soft the sunlight, tender gold,Warming earth that’s still and cold,Awakens buds from slumber deep,From frozen ground, green tendrils creep.The crocus peeks with vibrant hue,Petals kissed by morning dew,Daffodils in clusters bright,

I managed to clear the table today and put a table cloth on for looks But, now I still have a few things left to find homes for on the coffee table. Here is a list: Two fake wasp nests that I need to scare hornets and wasps away from my house. A staplerA purple ball for squeezing that my husband brought home when he cleared out his desk at work…

Piles of papers Stacked on the dining room tableI swear every day to sortOne pile at a timeGreeting cards from ChristmasFrom Mothers’ DayFrom Valentine’s DaySome from family and friendsAnd thenFrom my late husbandAnd the memories flood inThen there are bills that need filingNext are the insurance statements From his hospital stays…