A space for my words to meander.

Snowy owl

snowy owl lands

camoflauged in the white snow

his eyes tell the truth 

Lightness turns to dark

What a strange thing when lightness turns to dark

Happiness, confidence and ease collapsing inward 
Or maybe dissipating out
Where once the ground was stable and the air pure
Now fog surrounds and the terrain- rocks and stones and twists and turns 
I take a deep breath
forward motion the only way

I’ve waded through fog before on different terrain
The fog has always lifted

Because that is its nature

And this is mine

right facing



facing left, she saw not what was right

right facing evaded her

all that was to be done

was to turn her head
and risk the sun

perfect image

with the house to ourselves, my wee girl asked to sleep with me that night

as a treat, i said yes, knowing these moments would disappear at any time

when i came to bed, she lay, doll in her arms

the street light shone a glow upon her face

my head upon my pillow

i lay silently

my eyes upon her closed eyes

studying her face in ways which i could not

through the busyness of the days

i marveled at her beauty

the perfection in her face

the little soul that lay inside

i marveled at how beautiful she is

and I marveled more at how she does in fact

look just like me

a mirrored reflection

slightly askew only due to the years upon my face

and then i marveled a final time

at how i could see such beauty in her face

and yet not the same in mine

when in fact

she is the perfect image

of me

A space for my words to meander.


confessions are self-serving


Life somehow is chasing rainbows with a stranger; with that, you'll never be lonely.

The Living Marianas Trench

With a Challenger-deep Sentiments


Words are beautiful beyond meanings

Sarah Doughty

Novelist, Poet, Wordsmith

Peace in Darkness

weird alien đź‘˝

unbolt me

the literary asylum

Words on Empty Ears

Understanding someone’s way with words isn’t as simple as you think.

Cafe Book Bean

Talk Books. Drink Coffee.

DoubleU = W



Poetry from an English Hart writing

Everything I Never Told You

Lucidly in shadows. Poetry from a hand that writes misty.


Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.

Poems and Petals

Because poetry. And petals.