I've always used bright crayons,
and I've always picked,
  very interesting & bold options,
I try to use various alternative methods,
uniquely me and yet relatable,
I know I am different,
I'm OK with that,
I totally embrace my "weird"
and my "normal"
every part of me is beautiful somehow.

Though I didn't always I see it that way,
I've said it before "hindsight is insight "
so it all helps,
to paint in words more accurately.

I sometimes apply more technique,
to obtain a darker shade,
for example,
I use crosshatching,
or use more pressure to darken,
add light where needed,
there must be more than 50 shades of grey,
the way people describe things so differently yet the same,

Thoughtfully I'd enhance blood red,
gentle but deliberate strokes,
so many lovely colors in a telluric bed,

I especially love my old,
Vermont wildflower garden,

So I don't only use crayons,
I use sharpies, pencils and paint,
anything available,
whatever tools are required,
sights, sounds, tastes,
all play a role,
necessary ingredients,
some things to omit,

A very special thanks,
to the blossoms of that garden,
lovely lady slippers, snapdragons,
daises and lupines,
every season just so breathtaking,
always sharing and imparting sage wisdom,
those amazing forests and animals,
strangers friends and family,
teachers are everywhere & everything,
it's every song I'll ever sing,

I did not even mention,
the gift the waters,
give,
frozen beauty this time of year,
icicles and snowflakes,
black ice and cold dark dangerous depths,
No,
freezing temperatures won't deter a poet,

We must nurture poetry,
becuz poetry is everything,
in nature and music,
and life and love,
so even if you think your poetry *****,
keep writing,
that will change,
with honing skills,

If you're writing then you must see the world like a poet,
can you imagine a world without it?
I know I can't.

Did you know onions make a lovely imprint,
on Easter eggs?

Sometimes I just have to describe it,
remember into the past,
draw that vein up,
write it out,
word *****
****
( I have 22 poems in the "works" )
there I said it,
page after page after page,
purge for yourself and for others,
use your God given voice,
and if you got any talent?

It ain't like it's a choice,
look out world,
cuz maybe you're going to,
touch a lot of people,
and not even know you have the ability,
and when you do?

Well you just want to share,
not for the credit,
not for acclaim or false feigned affection,
not for any Earthly praise,
becuz,
you keep hearing that sound,
an so you gotta get it down,
when you want to sleep,
and you just can't think
cuz it keeps coming like a flood,
like no chance to blink,
I know you know poets,
you feel me?

And honestly,
I am only interested in coloring the truth,
so I will use a pencil if that's what I see,
or an eraser,
if necessary,

I use my truth,
your truth,
OUR truth,
to color all my poetic words.

Up ahead past frozen trees,
lies a timeless crystal valley,
while some still stand unfrozen here,
in rows of wooden alley,

I step in past behemoth guards,
who protect a prism palace,
as cleanest waters pure and clear,
rush down on earthly ballast,
a chance to sip of sacred wine,
inside a holy chalice,

Roots run deepest in this spot,
away from light,
below,
while tallest branches touch the sky,
all blanketed insnow,
as orchestra's of crystal chimes,
prepare another show,

When one should gaze upon it,
this ancient wooded sight,
as steam is rising steadily,
as daylight moves to night,
night draws down it's curtain,
as stars now shine a lovely light,

Your breath is taken with it,
& frozen there in time,
as daylight changes scenery,
angelic voices chime,
when telling of the beauty here,
I'd say this place sublime,

A wooded lucent heaven,
it's hard to put in words,
I close my eyes to dream again,
and listen to the birds,
and for every other lovely sound,
I hope my ears have heard,

My breath & I,
just cannot linger,
in beauty's frozen place,
where every branch is laden white,
on gaurded trees of ancient grace,
where all adorned with icicles,
& brilliant snowy patterned lace,

The atmosphere is full of vapor,
as the dew point has been hit,
condensing incandescent tears,
low flying clouds now sit,
so near the ground in steamy fog,
translucently still lit,

It captivates my every sense,
as frozen gates unlock,
I do my best to look away,
though all I do is gawk,
I peer inside to check the time,
...if any on the clock,

Sadly here,
not time for me,
inside this sleepy glen,
where birds & death,
they wait assured,
a thorny crown,
in safest den,
boreal a chickadee,
the livest a tiny wren,

Perhaps to come another day,
I stay inside past frozen gates,
I cannot know the how and when,
my thread of life is cut by Fates,
the three Keres I see in there,
it seems I can't manipulate,

I do not know the way to here,
amidst the wafting fog,
when all again will seem anew,
in Spring & newborn frog,
where lovely woodland creatures,
come out from mossy log,

I so wish I could stay here too,
where now the only sound,
is one of snowflakes softly falling,
upon this hallowed ground,
I do not know where I am going,
or where I'm finally bound,

Though I will try again in Spring,
to see my way back here,
I came here with a fear of death,
but left inside that fear,
as little Winter fairies whisper,
of hope into my ear,

I am grateful for today,
with new hope for tomorrow,
I'm walking out of here tonight,
relieved of all my earthly sorrow,
I walk ahead,
now unconcerned,
if no more time...
at all to borrow.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

There I see stardust,
in your bright eyes,
spinning galaxies of grey,
while some might say they're blue,
though it's not for them to say,
& all I know right now,
is my sun has gone away.

As I'm your Mother Earth,
& you're my dearest Sun,
you're shining on my heart,
& my relief when days are done,
a satisfying feeling,
in the victories we've won.

I sometimes call you poppa,
as I rub your happy tummy,
guess momma done it right,
cuz I cooked you somethin' yummy,

You are the only magic,
my heart has ever known,
cuz I'm doomed without your light,
I cannot do it all alone,
I am weary,
I am tired,
I'm a quickly aging bone,

You taught me toughen up
say it ain't as if you're dying,

you seem like you don't care,
only sometimes when I'm crying,

I know that you do love me,
but I feel I love you more,
I'd walk across a fire,
& swim to distant shore
I know that it's the truest love,
in this I can't ignore,

Your heart is where my home is,
& I couldn't say it truer,
& I love you more tonight,
as my days are getting fewer,

I see you try to help,
you wouldn't just keep tryin'
it's not too much your sold on,
or them theories that you're buyin',

You helped me see the beauty
now please I ask see mine,
I'm not asking for your sympathy,
or to set up for me a shrine,

I only want your hand,
to walk with me awhile,
down the old back roads,
and then on the longest mile,
you are the ONLY one,
who can bring,
my happy smile.

Cherie Nolan © 2017

I could use some hugs,
and I could use some love,
a friend to call an ally
who just laces up a glove,

Don't worry 'bout it friend,
cuz I have got your six,
I'll rescue you tonight,
& get ya out of any fix,

I gladly guard your corner,
an I'll beat down any foe,
I show you what a friend is,
when I'm done you oughta know,

You know that I am loyal,
my homie,
I got you,
I'm the truest friend,
that they will ever hafta rue,

Just try to get right past me,
I'm already wearing armor,
or if a lovely foe,
I will be the sweetest charmer,

I know you're pretty tough,
like nails or so they say,
just like dear old Dad,
yeah you're like him in that way,

I will be your friend,
no matter come what may,

Just know you're not alone,
in the darkness of the day.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

I don't think you can stop me,
but I'd like to see you give a try,
before I'm done my baby,
you'll be the one to kneel down and cry,
I'll be the one who's walking away,
& you'll be the one who's left with goodbye.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

I looked about my windowsill,
and there a lovely whippoorwill,
stood and sang a lovely tune,
about my birthday coming June,

Out in the middle of a real nowhere,
where the light is gently falling,
dark come soon as night comes in,
as birds so sweetly calling,

Mosquitoes bite in summer time,
this place can be quite hot,
but staying in would be a crime,
while getting out is not,

For now the lovely whippoorwill,
who sings the lonesome way,
amidst the frozen earthly loam,
and branches in decay,

I sit alone to hear that song,
the whippoorwill, my heart,
take me back to yesterday,
I rise again to start,

Just like a cancer born in June,
the whippoorwill he loves the Moon
He calls her from a lovely perch,
a tall and sturdy silver birch,

I hope to hear him once come Spring
on his flight his love he bring,
so many songs he knows to sing,
on whippoorwill and tiny wing,
a sweet and soulful little thing,

I close my eyes as I applaud,
his lovely voice entrances me,
& in his voice I'm truly awed,
staring not a choice I see,

Endangered in this place I love,
the whippoorwill, a dearest bird,

Please do your part to save the Earth,
I hope his lovely voice is heard.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

I woke up kinda early this morning,
the sun peeking through my windows,
so happy and bright,
I'm always so grateful to see that lovely little morning light

I'm just not feeling that tired,
that's OK,
I SHOULD get up,
so I shuffle around,
as I'm really fatigued,
even though I'm not feeling that tired.
I crawl in and out of bed like 6 or 7 times,
too cold, too cold,
trying!!!

I don't want to cook anything,
nope
I want to go to the store,
get something to eat,
and drink
cuz see I don't even want to make it,
not even coffee.... ahhhh the smell

I'm not a lazy chef,
or person at all,
I would normally cook for myself,
and EVERYONE else too,

So I do,
I walk one block,
to the store,
about,
but it's really cold,
so I'm more than shuffling!

Let's do this thing,
as I walk to the store I say in my head.

And thinking how I passed a few people smiling with my hands tucked in my wool jacket.
Brrrrrrr ...
Once inside and shaking off the cold,
I head to the coffee bar emmmm.
I get myself a coffee,
I add a little cream,
a tiny sprinkle of sugar,
they have the good kind here,
and it's pretty cheap too,
so worthwhile,
because the coffee is really good.

I look over and I see the cutest
two elderly people,
I've ever seen,
he has a walker and,
he's really about five feet two,
she's probably a little shorter than that.

Talk about return to innocence,
I love old people!
It won't be too long before I call myself truly old!
He looks at me as if not sure,
whether he should smile until,
I do a nice bright one,
I say good morning!
I don't know this man,
but he says good morning to me,
so cheerfully,
and his wife starts talking,
and I say yes it's so cold,
freezing out there ain't it?
Yut replied,
But it sure is good for your health,
and everything a great way to start the day, get out and do it!

Yeah right,
I'da been dead a long time ago if I didn't! she says,
The little man has some money,
all laid out and I reach,
for the cream and his wife say,
watch your money,
curiously,

And I say oh don't worry I won't take it on ya!
She says oh no I believe you I believe you!
It must be a Vermont thang!
The little old man says,
I'm going to buy your coffee!!!

I am just floored,
I don't look like I need free coffee do I?
and I tell him I have plenty of money sir,

Really maybe there's someone who needs it more here?
But he insists and paid for my coffee,
we didn't speak another word except when I said thank you so very kindly,. and I told him,
that I would pay it forward,
when things are dismal and dark,
when you can't see even the tiniest Spark maybe look for it in the kindness of strangers.

Cherie Nolan © 2016