About

I think it was Robert Frost who said, “A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.” And then it transforms, changes, molds you, together with the words, until there is nothing left but your hands, holding “emptiness, wholeness; a cave, a cathedral.” (B.H. Fairchild)

I love poetry. If not for its existence, I know I may have lived a lesser woman. There just seems to be a lot of meaning in a few lines that speaks so much about my life. And what I can get from a single poem – it’s mine for the taking.

I try to collect poems here in this blog, that at one point in my life have stood up for something, and have told a lot of stories – experiences – that I can’t even begin to give a name on my own. It’s just something I need to do. I hope this site helps you, in a way, to search for – and then eventually find – meaning, as these poems have helped me.