A piece of sky

I said the sky was falling
And my mother told me no
She says that is impossible
But I know that ain’t so

It fell in tiny pieces
That splashed my hands and feet
And then ran back together
And pooled up in the street

It fell and fell all morning
Like it would never stop
And I started to be worried
There’d be none left up on top

But when I woke from napping
The sun was bright up in the blue
There was lots of sky left up there
But was some left down here, too?

I slipped outside and looked around
And then I saw a glimmer
A piece of sky lay on the street
And shone with sky-ish shimmer

The same blue as the sky above
It lay there flat and still
It even had some fluffy clouds
That floated through at will

It looked so far away from home
So lonely on the ground
Like that one time I ran away
And prayed I would be found

So I got out my shiny rock
Reached out and dropped it in
It seemed to like my gift because
It paid me back with ten

The water droplets sprayed my legs
I smiled at my new friend
I ran and gathered other stones
That I could give to him

We traded stones for water drops
‘Til, with my sneaky grin,
I tackled him with all my might
He soaked me to the skin

My giggles must have gotten loud
‘Cause then mom came outside
She told me to go change my clothes
I turned and waved good-bye

Next day that piece of sky was gone
I guess that he went home
At night he must have missed the stars
Night’s hard when you’re alone

But I’m sure someday he’ll come back
If only for a day
‘Cause now I know why he fell down
He wanted time to play

The End

Words like gurgle and pustule and moist and munch
Make us cringe as we contemplate losing our lunch
Words like stupid and Monday and chores and hate
Are sure paths to depression and cursing our fate

But none of these words have the power to slay me
In quite the same way as two words that betray me
When I’m happy, cocooned in a world someone penned
And then, there on the page, find the dreaded The End

It’s a slap in the face and a shove out the door
When I’m warm and content and I’m wanting still more
It’s a wrenching good-bye to an enchanting friend
And the only solution? To start it again

That said, it’s with a complex blend of joy and pride and horrible sadness that I announce the approach of The End.

The fifth and final book in The Book of Sight series is coming your way and is appropriately titled

The Shattered Heart

Look for more announcements soon about release dates and special offers, but I can tell you that The Shattered Heart should be in your hands (and your stockings) by Christmas.  

Thanks to all of you who have come along on this ride with me. I’ve had a blast. 

And I promise that even though we’re reaching the end of the story of Alex and Adam and Logan and Eve and Dominic, there are always more stories to come. 



Hunky Dory

Everything is hunky dory
Really, there’s no scary story
Everything is A-okay
No need to turn and look this way
Yes, everything is nice and spiffy
That crunch you heard was nothing iffy

Hey! Please don’t stare with eyes of fear
It’s not as bad as it appears
See, everything is mighty fine
Sure, there’s some blood but I ain’t cryin’
Yep, everything is fine and dandy
I’ll be all right with just one handy

What Moms Know

Frogs and snails and puppy dog tails
That’s what little boys are made of
Also, arms that flail and long rabbit trails
And competetive noise and odd play shoves

And that one moment when
He comes near, snuggles in
And his sweaty head leans on your shoulder

And you breathe in that smell
that just means all is well
And you think how he’s every day older

That brief moment’s the best
(Though your clothes are a mess)
Because you are where he came for rest

* * * * *

Sugar and spice and everything nice
That’s what little girls are made of
Also drama and wit and a fair dose of grit
And long talks and sometimes weird homemade gloves

And those few times a year
When she conquers a fear
Or she says something wise that astounds you

And you look at that face
At those eyes with new grace
And you hope she stays always around you

Because right then you know
Though she’s yours and it shows
She’ll go places you never dared go

Madam Mango’s Moonbeam Machine

Oh, come along and buy a dream
From Madam Mango’s Moonbeam Machine
The finest illusions you’ve ever seen
Some crimson, some pearly, some grasshopper green

Yes, Madam has dreams to make you sigh
She’ll grow magical worlds right before your eyes
For a few extra coins, you can even fly
You can grow your own wings, kiss the rainbow skies

Or for those of you beset by fears
Or deprived of sleep by unending tears
The Moonbeam Machine can roll back the years
Give you dreams of the days when your heart was clear

Oh step right up, the time is right
Though the dreams will only last one night
It’s the fleeting beauties that give more light
And Madam’s dreams are the brightest of bright

Ghosts of Me

Sitting on a front porch in an old gold-mining town
I sing a song and weave my dreams and watch the sun go down

Down in Oklahoma, under the silk trees
I gather up the seed pods as I climb and skin my knees

Ghosts of me still linger
Ghosts of me still dare
Ghosts of me still whisper
Oh my ghosts are everywhere

In a park in rainy Portland you can hear the endless sound
Of my tennis ball that bounces from my hand to wall to ground

On a trail through Rocky mountains, I make my solitary way
At each new lovely vista, my feet pause but never stay

Ghosts of me still linger
Ghosts of me still dare
Ghosts of me still whisper
Oh my ghosts are everywhere

In the slums of Buenos Aires, I am covered with the mud
Of attempting the impossible through streets now under flood

On a thousand far flung highways, while the music fills the air
I drive and drive and hold his hand and no one else is there

Ghosts of me still linger
Ghosts of me still dare
Ghosts of me still whisper
Oh my ghosts are everywhere


It’s just a number
She said
Which is true
That just is not so just

It’s the sum of parts
Of nine
And eighteen
Of one
three, five, and two times two

It’s foreign lands
once walked
Sights, sounds, and smells
now locked
In mixed with here and now

It’s ordinary houses
Across the globe
But each
A true home in its time

It’s life’s true love
To share
The madness
And joy
And walk down through the years

It’s son and daughters
New minds
All astounding
And yet uncharted seas

It’s art created
And shared
And love received
From both
And tongues that shaped how eyes could see

It’s the sum of parts
Of nine
And eighteen
Of one
three, five, and two times two

It’s just a number
she said
Which is true
That just…

Animalian Acquirers, Inc.

Step up! Step up! Please gather ’round!
Whatever you’ve lost can still be found!
You’ve tried to look, you’ve searched and scoured
But you’ve not yet been helped by agents like ours.

Have a lost appetite? That’s easy as pie!
Our truffle-hunting pigs barely have to try.
Our Grizzlies find berries, so juicy and sweet,
And our vultures can show you the finest of meats.

But please don’t think food is all we can do
We know you’ve lost much more than something to chew
For those missing keys, our ‘coons find shiny things!
And our robins locate matching socks while they sing!

If you can’t find your car in that huge parking lot
We’ve got hounds to assist you in finding your spot.
And when it turns out you have lost your way home
Our pigeons will guide you; you won’t be alone.

But wait! Don’t go yet! There’s so very much more!
For your lost hope, we have kittens and bunnies galore!
If your sense of style’s missing, we have chimpanzee groomers!
And our rare garenuks find lost senses of humor.

Whatever you’re missing, our agents stand by.
Don’t mourn what is lost ’til you give us a try.
No matter how difficult, we’re bound to scout it.
And if we can’t, you’re probably better without it.

There’s a map on my wall
Of the places I’ve been
Of more places I still have to go
And its colors show much
Of the things I have learned
Of more things that I still need to know

There’s a shelf full of books
That hold stories I’ve loved
And some stories that fractured my heart
All their neatly squared spines
Reveal well-ordered thoughts
Conceal feelings that ripped me apart

There’s a child in her bed
Who is so much of me
Just as a much something I can’t explain
And I watch as she dreams
This small, vulnerable self
Filled with life that’s too big to contain

I need to write a story

Once upon a time there was a princess in a castle
(Or would a tiny hut be snug and cleaning be less hassle?
(But can a princess live in just a tiny, tidy hut?
(Is tiny hut redundant? Can huts be huge or what?)))


Once a princess lived in a small hut, all clean and cute
(Why is it that tiny things are always cute to boot?
(And why when we mean “also” do we mention someone’s shoes?
(Oh! The princess could solve crimes with magic boots that give her clues!)))


A princess got a hut to start her own detective service
(Though his child owning a business would likely make a king quite nervous
(Or are there progressive monarchs? It might not be oxymoronic.
(Jumbo shrimp! An open secret! (ooh…that would be ironic))))


So king moves detective daughter to a hut (gossip prevention)
But because she’s out of place, her magic boots draw much attention
(Is there a moral to this story or are we just poking fun?
(Speaking of fun, I could grab lunch with friends, sit in the sun…))


So there’s a princess, worried father, magic boots, and crimes to solve
Boots give clues, cases are cracked, a hut is purchased, fame evolves
So…the king learns that the things we fear sometimes can be our friend
And you shouldn’t be ashamed of your weird kids. Yeah,that. The End.