Lovely Lizzie


Beata Beatrix – Dante Gabriel Rossetti

He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him,
Fair as the moon and joyful as the light:
Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim:
Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright;
Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.
-Christina Rossetti



Of Something Beautiful

bef96997496bc15433537e7dc2db8dac“If the moon smiled,
She would resemble you.
You leave the same impression.
Of something beautiful,
But annihilating.”
~Sylvia Plath, The Rival

In honor of Sylvia, who died 53 years ago February 11th.

Blossoms in Winter


“The flowers of late winter and early spring occupy places in our hearts well out of proportion to their size.” ~Gertrude S. Wister


Autumn Blaze


“Autumn’s fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.” ~William Allingham

Photograph: ©Lisa Chapman 2015


Heart’s Gone to Sea…

143097180368377Photo credit:Wyatt McSpadden/Grove Press


O triple sob — turned forty

at midnight — body at dawn

booze-soddened but hopeful,

knowing that the only thing

to remember is dreams.

Dead clear zero, Sunday afternoon

in an attic of a closed resort

on Lake Michigan with one lone

duck riding the diminishing

swells of yesterday’s storm

against the snowy cliffs of North Manitou:

Whom are we to love?

How many and what for?

My heart’s gone to sea for years.

This is a prayer, plaint, wish,

howl of void beneath breastbone.

Dreams, soul chasers, bring

back my heart alive.

~Jim Harrison


Winter Trees


 The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.

On their blotter of fog the trees

Seem a botanical drawing.

Memories growing, ring on ring,

A series of weddings.

From “Winter Trees” ~Sylvia Plath


Lady,i will touch you with my mind

Pic EE


Lady,i will touch you with my mind.
Touch you and touch and touch
until you give
me suddenly a smile,shyly obscene

(lady i will
touch you with my mind.)Touch
you,that is all,

lightly and you utterly will become
with infinite care

the poem which i do not write.

~E.E Cummings

(from E.E. Cummings: Complete Poems, 1904-1962)

Photo: “Le Grand Amour” Just Under the Surface // Pinterest