Stride Magazine -



Iím not your verbal doormat,
an obtuse abstraction
to drag out for your need,
or a fragile leaf of paper
to crumple and toss aside.

My bright crystals litter the floor,
radiate the tears seeping from wounded emotions,
vibrant pigments melt,
drown my sensibilities.

I gulp sadness, remember
every barbed and vicious cut.

Maybe someday youíll confront
your frozen fear and Iíll find
dreams of compassion
for your disillusionment.


Clouds form, moon disappears,
beauty remains untarnished,
just hidden from our view.
Dark creeps upon the land,
tranquility disturbed for the moment.

Moon winks, reflections return,
catch surrounding silhouettes
of pine and cherry blossom.
Herons, wing low,
seek a peaceful haven.

Folding screen expands a scene
of undisturbed calm,
restful illusion for our eyes;
balm for the soul.
Harmony replaces discord.


Dissolving Flakes
wend their way from mountaintops,
down deep waterfalls in misty gorges
to the mighty
Columbia River.

A roar of approval rises;
nature applauds as cascades
thunder in their free-fall
journey to meet the river.

Its long winding excursion
sends her with urgency
through every intricacy
creation can conjure.

One final outcropping of land;
she reaches the sea.
Lighthouse signals farewell
as her rite of passage is finished.


Gone-by times remembered,
another old red bike
with balloon tires looms.

She smiles recalling

days of youth and wildness,
long-horn handlebars,
cranked to just the right angle.
Rev it up, put feet
on the bars to steer,
hand free to wave at friends.
Feel a long ago wind
rush across cheek and chest,

all empowering.

Crisp, cloudless autumn days,
buried recollections
filled with smoky dreams rear up.
Carefree, forgotten years.


Ceiling reflects echoes,
the radiance of rose windows.
Stained glass sunflowers,
light-reflected on arches
throughout the cathedral,
add surreal loveliness
to barren walls.

The effect is stunning.
Rays, thrown back, offer
a fanciful view of flowers,
bring an outside garden in,
a kaleidoscope of pigment.

Warm embellishment
in a colorless space.

†††††††††††††††††† © Sharon Cooper 2001

Sharon Cooper lives in
Portland, Oregon, USA, and is married with four children. She is an active member of the Womenís Assn. of The Oregon Symphony, Words Of a Woman Net Society, and Phenomenal Women of the Web. An astrological Leo, this lady thrives on poetry and music.

She has been published in Lingerings, The Words of a Woman Net Society, Painted Poet Literary and Art Journal, Fluid Ink Press, Vinland Journal, Poetry Niederngasse, Arcanum Cafť, Some Words, Wilmington Blues, In The Eyes Of The Wild, Rustlings Of The Wind, Erosha Literary Journal, Tamafyhr Mountain Poetry, Panda Poetry Magazine,Mi Poesias E-Zine, Battle Starsí and many others; and is soon to be published in Wired Arts From Wired Hearts, Swan Dive and Emerging from Twilight Ė A Shadow Poetry Collection, Vol. 2.