My granddaughter and I spend a lot of time amongst the mess of crayons, paints, glue and markers. She speaks my language. We have no rules about what art should be except that it should come from within. There is no wrong way if it comes from your heart.

June is Lexington Poetry Month. Here is my second poem posted on lexpomo.com.



She wields every color
Asparagus sky
Red-Violet trees
Pacific Blue sun
Wild Strawberry children
Each one considered
Each one embraced
Escaping across black lines



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