Poem about a person who is suffering from the excess of taking care of chores and work.

This is a poem about the endless chores that we do everyday.

Martha Malone rose from her chair beside the sofa, strode up to the television set rather disgustedly and turned it off, then went to the kitchen.

This poem for my mother, is filled with memories of life on the old farm. With it, I added a little, hand-made barnyard scene.

"There is no color in a world of black and white."

Humorous poem about a mom who tells her son what he needs to do during the day.

Me and what happened to make me into a Pitiful Early Sunday Morning Creature.

As of this day(March 12, 2011), I’m gonna start writing a journal. Well It doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s all about me; it could be regarding my observations, regarding a blog, or so whatever captures my sight on that very day.

Another unpublished poem from some time ago.

The unusual sound continues that I run to the door…I feel the cold breeze rushing under my skin…