When time comes to say goodbye
remember he will always be nearby.
Memories to treasure and hold on
of a friendship that grew on and on.
He left his footprints on your heart
to comfort you and have a new start.
He will always stay close to you
wherever you go, whatever you do.

My hero
My safety cloak
My inspiration
My teacher
I loved you as all these things
Through your poems
Though it might not show
You were my smile
And my sunshine
For your poems made me understand
That even though Ded Poets die
Their hearts and souls
Will forever survive
Through their poems and what they've done

My mom was my mentor.
She helped me with my problems.
Although I stopped telling her my problems.
Because I was embarrassed and scared that I would disappoint her.
And so I act strong around the house.
But everywhere else
I always slouch
Because whenever I'm at home
It feels although I carried the weight of the world

She left for New York City
I told her
"Don't miss me too much."
Silence grew.
I reassured,
"We share the same sky"
She told me I was poetic


                                         «c.h.b»

Is it because I'm worried?
Is it because I'm scared?
I just-it hurts...
I wish she knew it hurts...

Being a mentor, part of life,
I tutor kids, no strife,
A steady, patient coach,
Their mistakes, no reproach,
It's part of learning, you see,
A teacher creates a legacy,
Literacy and numeracy,
For pupils to achieve their dreams,
Always give some sage advice,
Being a mentor, part of my life.....

1 Kings 15:24-  "Then Asa rested with his ancestors and was buried with them in the city of his father David. And Jehoshaphat his son succeeded him as king."

Hand passes baton
Race not about runners
An objective not at odds  
To something further than singular
It is about the passing
Dedicated motion
Maintaining of
Exchange at maximum speed
Invigorating something else
Notion of familial  
Virtues vested
In a completement
Of the passing on
And a carrying of values
So well learned  
From another before
And His trust given
Rewards of a relay
Are plural
With an instinctual handing off
Of Faith
In a mentor before

Butterflies were her favorite thing.
Her pillows had Monarchs in full winged flight
Needlepointed by an artful hand.

One perched on a perfume bottle’s cap
It’s crystal wings composed for rest.

Her jewelry box was full of them
In precious stones and colored glass
In every size and metal base.
If they all rose in magic flight
The air would shine with rainbows.
                               §
Today I found a tiny golden brooch,
Set with green and yellow stones
With tiny diamonds for the eyes.

It was dropped by someone rushing home
From entertainments where I do my work.
Will it be missed and my phone ring,
Or is this a message from my Mimi.

The minute that I saw it
She was in my mind
As gentle as the butterflies she loved.
She settled on the flower of my heart
And cocooned the little moth of me
And wrapped it up to metamorph
Into the unique butterfly I will be.
ljm