And when snowflakes fall I hibernate A dormant volcano on the edge of the sea while Pegasus flies over me.

Pain and heartache— Trouble and fun Myth and parody— The moon, the sun Two books in print— an unpublished one The poetry stopped— stories bloomed Temptress, trolls witches and ghouls Time slipped by— the maiden grew into the mother— new lessons, new cues. Connected to nature— Hoping for truth Still a dreamer reads symbols and runes. Small poems of love scare some away— don’t take in too much, the writer’s way. Spelling out thoughts— feelings and truths seeks to help others wi

I dreamed you were a polar bear but I know that you’re an owl The Arctic beast with unique genes solitary secret power

Haiku Series Celia Blake #1 The tiger trained me   to creep through fire, but I learned—   to fly over tides. #2 The wolf left bones...

Poem of the Week: Bloodstone Mirror by Cleo Bell Minutes tick weeks float like the snow transition from Mother to Crone— reading devotionals writing poems signs show a path On my way home. Shadow work casting light joy lost to joy gained crushed then pray and pray wounded dreams back into day Patterns snagged instincts speak louder than any pain. Heart and mind this young crone knows true love is divine I trust in the Lord. Midwinter past my own seeds I plant still growi

You’ll drown me, and I’ll let you— and I’ll love it— because I’m safe with you.

sun shines through leaves casting rhythms dancing light and free

(Poem of the Week) She Picked You But then she didn’t Needing something in the moments past the untouched of what was hinted. She did...

(Poem of the Week) A thought blows in I take a breath Wonderin’ where he is There’s just somethin’ about that man Dancing eyes—wicked grin— I’d love to hear that southern voice and carry it on this wind— My fire burns beneath this Autumn moon With a flower in my hair I’m thinkin’ about You Whispering kisses, I call you to me Make me your favorite dream See me Hear me Watch the wind flying around me Give it a try Open your eyes Baby Come and get me. —Celia Blake All rights res

Poetry in chance I gaze / upon a page a pic a post / I'm lost now / my plans are toast . . . lucid dreams this dark, wet night

I'll loung in the tree tops purring /I'll hop through the brush in a scurry /I'll charge through rivers /or cut ocean waters /I'll chatter /

A self portrait in words. "She knows true love is divine unchanging and fluid like a still river, a Goddess, an ancestor, a Druid."

I found a love Courageous and . . . Angelic panther, Was I destined for you? If you have nine lives we’ve met in a few— I recognize your...

A new land is born a new scene forms on and on she writes it starts to breathe on its own like an instrument alive.

(Poem of the Week) A monarch man— gentle as a butterfly, willing and able to fly— long distances with your heart of fire— Man of faith!...

Silent swimmer Your old soul frightens me Behind your eyes an ocean of possibilities— I cry for you, keeper of secrets, as you watch, wait, snatch the next memory. Twice you swallowed the clock Leaving me in Neverland to bask in the sun far from you, fierce one... You... smiling at my mischief Wind in our hair feet in the air Blazing kindred spirits Oh, what delight! What existence! As I gaze into crystal waters I see you now, wise one— primal power. Your hatchlings growing b

While you circle the skies While you watch and wait Wondering if I’m worthy I tread above clear waves While you dive down for your draft...

(Poem of the Week) Double bubble No toil No trouble There are halos here and there and earthbounds in the thinning air. North East- South...

(Poem of the Week) Sequin green humming flutters from flower to flower, and a baby bunny hopped by not two feet from me— he stopped to say hi. The birds are chirping, the insects sing. Such a beautiful morning the Mother Goddess has blessed me; and the Holy Spirit comforts my soul, casting his golden white light. Life has so much more to offer than an ugly bottle of whiskey could ever provide. That bottle lies to you— a devil dressed in a tuxedo, smelling like spice with hint

(Poem of the Week) Waning moon toward the new A dark All Hallows’ Eve The spirits roam through whispered breeze black cats hide black...