Dennis Cardiff ~ Poetry & Prose

First Kiss

29 Thursday Aug 2019

Tags

dreams, emotion, empowerment, free, imagination, longing, love, mystery, personal, romance, sighs

my first kiss
so long ago
(not yet in high school)
in the back seat of a ’51 Ford
at a drive-in theatre.
I’ll remember ’till I die
my nervousness,
perspiration,
her perfume
(Tigress by Faberge)
her warmth,
angora sweater set
(pastel yellow —
no buttons
to hinder progress)
the sweetness of her kiss.
She knew much more than I
about such things

another world
had opened to me
desire and heartache
go together —
there’s seldom one
without the other
but, would we want it
any other way?
would we want
a safe, yet loveless life
without the up
without the down?
or, take the ecstasy
and risk our hearts
being trampled
to the ground

…

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Beach Girl

06 Monday May 2019

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 12 Comments

Beach girl
silhouetted
against the horizon.
Wild hair fluttering
flag of the evening breeze.

I sit
admiring
this distant beauty.
Heartfelt rhapsody
engulfed by remorseless night.

I see
small footprints
in the moist sand.
I know them as yours.
Would that I could take them home.

…

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Frost

17 Thursday Jan 2019

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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a dove sits on a snowy bough,
her song cuts through my heart.
we both know how the lonely feels
when love is torn apart.

there never was an emptiness
the way i feel inside.
the ache is deep within my chest,
i have no place to hide.

was once a time my heart was full
when spring was in the air,
but Frost has draped me with her cloak,
my tears fall in despair.

the midnight train is leaving soon.
my bags are packed to go.
i shiver on the platform bare,
a spectre, slinking low.

…

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when buffalo roamed

29 Saturday Dec 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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I pray
there is a place
beyond the pain
where we will rise
in purity
above the cedars.

look down
our hearts have claimed
a rock ledge
to escape the rain,
a cathedral
among ancient pines.

stories
your grandma told
of a past
when buffalo roamed —
we were there,
we are still there
using different names.

…

Wild Rose

03 Monday Dec 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Her sweet breath fell warm and soft
like a gentle prairie breeze
wafting the scent of wild rose,
delicate, but mostly wild.

Her mane, red and dangerous,
sometimes concealed then revealed
chameleon-like features,
an emotional rainbow.

Her full lips would pout or smile
like a sudden summer storm —
thunder, lightning then sunshine,
frighteningly beautiful.

Temperament like a mustang,
skittish, demanding patience,
or she would bolt for the wild.
Gentleness would subdue her.

For a while she could be held,
raging passion directed,
hunger could be satisfied
briefly, then she would be gone.

I would not hope to contain
or to harness the wildness.
For me she will always be
my sweet, delicate, Wild Rose.

…

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC

19 Monday Nov 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Hello, my wonderful guests! Thank you all for joining me today on this amazing showcase tour being sponsored by RWISA (RAVE WRITERS – INT’L SOCIETY OF AUTHORS), an elite branch of the amazing RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB!

This showcase will feature 19 amazing writers, each having their own special day of being featured on multiple blogs. I, along with the other supportive hosts, ask that after reading the written work of art by each RWISA Author, that you click on the link designated to take you directly to that author’s profile page on the actual RWISA site. On my blog, that link will be the author’s name.

Today’s special guest:

D. L. FINN

Poetry by D. L. Finn

DARKNESS

The air is thick as you breathe it in

Filling your lungs with its silence.

It unnerves you when you’re alone

Because in the darkness there are shadows.

They are filled with the unknown

While the quiet is lurking with danger.

It’s unseen, watching while your heart is racing

And your skin drenched in sweat, you scan the night.

You see nothing and hear nothing

Yet, you know it’s there.

You hurry back into the light where it’s safe

Shut the door and lock it with a sigh of relief.

You quickly forget the darkness

But, what you don’t know is…

It hasn’t forgotten you.

TO FLY (Musings from the Back of a Harley)

We fly by the ranches…

Cows, goats, and horses.

Grazing golden-grass untroubled…

As we rumble loudly past them.

The ponds are rain depleted…

Fall harvest signs invite us to stop.

But, today is a day to fly…

To fly past normalcy

To fly past worries

To fly past obligations.

They rush by us like the scenery…

Soaring past our leather-clad bodies.

They crash behind us like a boat’s wake…

Miraculously missing us in our frantic flight.

Yet, all is forgiven flying on our motorcycle…

As our souls chaperon our journey.

THE RIVER’S GIFTS

It’s smooth and gentle on a warm spring day…

The rocks and trees are mirrored in its purity.

The beach’s sandy-warmth caresses me…

As I skim a flat rock across the water’s surface.

Eight small splashes are my reward…

Expanding into rings that disappear into flow.

Fish swim with the current beneath…

Hawks soar above searching for their next meal.

I deeply breathe in the serenity shared by the river.

A delicate butterfly swoops down and rests in front of me…

I want to touch it, be a part of its splendor, as I watch it fly away.

It finds nectar on a purple flower at the water’s edge…

I inhale bliss as the butterfly’s hunger is satisfied.

Searching up river I find water cascading down a rocky ledge.

I pause to drink in the magnificence and wisdom…

The river can negotiate any obstacle and continue its journey.

Here next to the flowing wonder, I find peace, and beauty…

I absorb this into my being, with gratitude, for the river’s gifts.

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH “RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour today! We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.

We ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs. Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent! Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

D. L. FINN, RWISA Author Page

How would you like to become a RWISA Member so that you’re able to receive this same awesome FREE support? Simply click HERE to make application!

New-mown Hay

30 Sunday Sep 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

deep emotion, first love, heavenly touch, longing, mystery, romance, sighs, sweet lips, true devotion, young love, your embrace

In memory is the scent of new-mown hay
wafted softly over moonlit, prairie fields.
Car audio music eased the tensions.
Fingers, hormones and pounding hearts collided.

CKOM Radio’s “Hi-Fi Club” with
“Digger” Dave Palmer spinning the platters
blasted over empty high school stadiums,
riverbank parking lots and secluded fields.

No past or future. There was only present.
Only that one unforgettable moment
forever etched indelibly in memory.
At the time, it seemed, a moment to die for.

Clumsy fingers fumbled with stubborn buttons.
Heaving breasts longed to be released at last.
Guilt, knowing that parents would be home waiting.
Excuses that begged for plausibility.

Many a romance was started or ended
to a favorite beat, harmony or chorus.
The first three bars still stimulate the passion
and bring the past thundering to the foreground.

Where are those unforgettable moments now?
Where are those raging hormones and pounding hearts?
I look back, over years of maturity
and long for the scent of warm, moist new-mown hay.

…

whisper and moan

10 Monday Sep 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

alcoholism, compassion, death, despair, desperation, emotion, empathy, eternal, loneliness, longing, lost love

troubled blues with feeling
may ease my tortured mind;
free me from the clutches
of those I left behind.

these dirty hobo rags
hang on a wasted frame,
haunted by the memory
and rhythm of your name.

walking through this alley
shrouded, dark with death.
evil deeds will haunt me,
until my final breath.

craving me some whisky,
a friendly word and smile.
you can spend my money,
just stay a little while.

booze, it clouds my thinking.
your face is just a blur……
few more drinks together
i may think you are her.

guitar strings, whining steel,
a whisper and a moan.
use me and abuse me;
don’t leave me here alone.

…

borderlands

24 Tuesday Jul 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, destiny, free, homeless, imagination, love, philosophy, psychology, romance

i live in the borderlands,
between reality and imagination,
just this side of fantasy.

reality is okay.
i visit there
to check my mail,
earn a few dollars,
pay some bills,
buy groceries.

reality is an okay place to visit
but, i wouldn’t want to live there.

i’m happiest in my mind
where I filter my thoughts
like an answering machine.
i delete the negative,
dwell on the positive.

people may see me walking alone.
they don’t see the beautiful woman
at my side
with her hand in mine.

i may be seen sitting at a table, alone.
nobody sees the delicate hand,
with the magic fingers,
sliding up my thigh.

or, the passionate kiss
being planted on my throat,
the fingers running through my hair.

where i work
people see me smile.
they think I enjoy my job.
they don’t know me.

…

The Silver Fox

15 Sunday Jul 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

Abuse, addiction, alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, homeless, mental health, psychology, Sociology, violence

slouching
in forgotten tap-rooms
dirty old men,
forgotten old men,
slop piss colored beer
from, wet, dripping glasses.
the hollow din,
the retelling of the good old days,
echoes sadly
as life quickly passes.

“They used to call me ‘The Silver Fox’
What do you think of that?
They used to care.”

an empty glass crashes
to the muddy floor.

“I guess I’ll be hitting the streets tonight.
Sleep in an alley tonight.
Nobody cares.”

slouching
in forgotten tap-rooms
dirty old men,
forgotten old men,
slop piss colored beer.
nobody cares…

…

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Concrete Box

28 Saturday Apr 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

blues, dreams, entertainment, fantasy, free, imagination, longing, love, music, mystery, universe

I work in a corporate, concrete box;
no windows, only a computer terminal
to link me to the outside world.
Only second-hand accounts
of weather, traffic,
whether it is day or night.

I sometimes go to work in darkness,
return in darkness.
I don’t know if the sun
remembered to rise at all.
Like the light in a refrigerator.
Does it really turn off
when I close the door?

At a keyboard, my fingers type numbers,
millions of numbers.
My mind wanders woodland paths.
I watch birds flitting from limb to limb,
chipmunks scurrying, stopping,
looking around, then scurrying again.

My mind plays tricks on me.
I imagine that just 26 floors down
I could exit on Beale or Bourbon Street.
Hear sounds of the South,
guitars, saxophones and raspy voices
that rule the rhythm of my body and soul.

Take me on a blues ride.
Let me wander with the lyrics
down Highway 61, “The Blues Highway”.
Let me smell the sweat and the booze,
the jostling at the bar,
the waitress who will smile for a tip.

Let me smell magnolia, bougainvillea,
where Spanish moss hangs below the branches,
see the darkest eyes and brightest smile,
hear that special whisper, “Come with me.”
We’ll walk for miles, be holding hands,
and never want for any more
than our window to a dream.

…

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Morning Star

13 Friday Apr 2018

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compassion, destiny, dreams, eternal, fantasy, imagination, lifetimes, love, mystery, romance, sighs

Morning Star, Evening Star
North guides the sailors
count us our blessings
long into the night

weave me a blanket
made out of moments
dreams of discovery
adventures now past

will me, be still me
arms be my cradle
comfort and kindness
within your caress

sing me forever
that place far away
close as a heartbeat
our home where we’ll stay

…

Prairie Crocus

11 Wednesday Apr 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Buddhism, Christianity, flowers, mystery, nature, personal, philosophy, spiritual

After the snow moves north
the prairie crocus,
native anemone,
ears of the earth
listens
for the rustle of summer.

Gently she sways
to moments of truth.
In her petals
the purple blue mist
of far distant mountains;
a small golden sun
close to her heart.

Eternity
folds close around her,
warms her
from the cold winds
of spring.

…

Hunter Spirits

05 Thursday Apr 2018

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Tags

compassion, destiny, empathy, empowerment, forever, lifetimes, loving kindness, mystery, nature, spirits, spiritual

“We planted you, we nurtured you, we protected you
until you became a mighty tree that spread through our
hunting grounds. With its branches you now lash us.”
– Mississauga Chief

Steps used by the Rideau Lakes Mississauga
Band of the Ojibwe or Anishinaabe Nation, for
traditional Sun Dance and other ceremonies.

…

I sit on ancient steps of stone
by myself, but not alone.
The presence of ten thousand souls
imbues me with their joys and goals.

The steps lead to a sacred place;
for Mississauga prayers and grace.
They danced to celebrate the sun
before the white man and the gun.

I seek what they sought; love and peace ~
for wars around the world to cease.
To live a life of nature’s plan
in harmony with fellow man.

In harmony with living things
and everything that nature brings.
I sit on ancient steps of stone
with souls to guide me on my own.

…

Playful Spirit

03 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

compassion, destiny, empathy, empowerment, eternal, forever, kindness, lifetimes, mystery, spiritual, unconditional love

Playful spirit behind an oak
laughed and flirted but never spoke.
Eyes of onyx, raven hair,
I marveled at her standing there.

Brilliant sunshine — could barely see.
Had my eyes played tricks on me?
I stood in reverence and awe
not sure of what I thought I saw.

Fluttering soft, the poplar leaves
perhaps, had caused me to believe
I’d seen someone who wasn’t there —
eyes of onyx, raven hair.

The nimble spirit deftly danced
from tree to tree and lightly pranced.
I didn’t know quite what to do
about this vision in my view.

I had no knowledge of such things.
What does one do when nature brings
such beauty, grace and winsome mold
who, I could see but could not hold?

I could have watched her all day long
her movements sang just like a song.
She beckoned me with backward glance
down flowered pathway of romance.

I had no choice, I was entranced;
induced to follow where she danced.
The woods had changed, were foreign now,
colors brighter, surreal somehow.

I saw some spirits on the way.
They went about their normal day.
They took no notice of my form
contrary to their spirit norm.

They were at home among the trees;
conversely, I felt ill at ease.
Abandoned, then just like a snare —
eyes of onyx, raven hair.

She drew me close and hugged me tight;
we kissed, caressed throughout the night.
Not a wisp of evanescence,
but a real woman’s presence.

Wood smoke, sweet-grass, musk and cedar —
I took her hand, she let me lead her.
Beneath the boughs we made our bed
while stars shone brightly overhead.

…

frost

01 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

abandonment, despair, desperation, emotion, emptiness, eternal, fear, forever, loneliness, longing, lost love

a dove sits on a snowy bough,
her song cuts through my heart.
we both know how the lonely feels
when love is torn apart.

there never was an emptiness
the way I feel inside.
the ache is deep within my chest,
i have no place to hide.

was once a time my heart was full
when spring was in the air,
but Frost has draped me with her cloak,
my tears fall in despair.

the midnight train is leaving soon.
my bags are packed to go.
i shiver on the platform bare,
a spectre, slinking low.

…

Memory In Blue

28 Wednesday Mar 2018

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Tags

birds, compassion, dreams, emotion, eternal, forever, free, longing, nature, sighs

A flicker
of cerulean
swoops beneath the boughs
of towering pines
against the sky.

Wings, a silent whisper.
Dream, not quite come true.
Shadow, on my mind.
Memory
in blue.

…

Fireplace

18 Sunday Mar 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

dreams, emotion, eternal, fantasy, forever, lifetimes, longing, love, personal, romance, sighs

I’ll put a fresh log in the fireplace.
Will you pour us a glass of wine?
We’ll relax on overstuffed pillows,
smell the scent of burning pine.

Leave stress and hurry behind us.
It’s the time to let worries lie.
We’ll watch the constellations
appear in the darkening sky.

Magic, your eyes by the firelight.
Warm, your smile as you hold my hand.
Tell me your grandmother’s stories
of a nearby but distant land.

We communicate in silence,
My reflection is in your eyes.
Soft and gentle, your fingers.
Delightful, the sound of your sighs.

Stories of us to remember,
our stars melting gently above.
Never before have I felt such joy
as our presence together in love.

…

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Mourning Dove

17 Saturday Mar 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

compassion, death, despair, desperation, destiny, empathy, longing, love, nature, personal, romance

The silence of
the mourning dove,
more mournful
than her song.

She’s lost her mate,
her will to live,
yet time
still passes on.

Of days gone by,
she dreams her dreams,
when last she
heard him sing.

In widow’s weeds,
by empty nest,
a lonely dove
has lost her song.

…

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Caribbean Lovers

05 Monday Mar 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

longing, lust, palm trees, romance, surf, vacation

tropical sands
and seas to eternity
frolicking lovers
leaping in surf
libidinous longings
seizing forever
fulfilling today

fuschia, her lips
loving and laughing
hungry hearts
heading for somewhere
to secretive shade
seductive embrace
rekindling embers

lost in wonderland
wandering everywhere
wherever life takes them
that’s where they’ll go
going forward together
while loving to live
living to love

…

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choogling

09 Friday Feb 2018

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highland, Scots

Glasgow steam train rolling
both feet stomping time
bagpipes pumped and blazing
rumbling down the line
fingers in a fury
spiders mating dance
master of the reelpipes
plays as in a trance

Audience is hidden
behind his mop of hair
They howl and they holler
Fred rocks on his chair
sounding like a steam train
blowing out the blues
chugging and choogling
drinking highland booze

…

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Robert

04 Sunday Feb 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

alcoholism, blues, death, despair, dreams, guitar, loneliness, longing, lost love, music

An itinerant
entertainer
guitar on his back
ramblin’
from town to town
the devil by his side.
Performing
on street corners
in juke joints
roadhouses
lastly,
on August 13,1938,
at Shaples General Store,
Three Forks,
Mississippi.

Loner
philanderer
loved by the ladies
Robert was poisoned
with strychnine-laced whiskey
by a jealous husband
on the outskirts
of Baptist Town,
Greenwood,
Mississippi.

Buried in an
disputed grave
but, as Robert sang:
Baby, I don’t care
where you bury my body
when I’m dead and gone
You may bury my body, whoooo
Down by the highway side
So my old evil spirit
Can get a Greyhound bus
and ride.

Where
he is buried
isn’t important;
what is important
is the influence he’s had
on musicians
the world over.
Eric Clapton
claims, “he is
the most important blues singer
that ever lived.”
May he forever
rest in peace.

…

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Borderlands

31 Wednesday Jan 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Buddhism, destiny, dreams, emotion, empathy, fantasy, mystery, personal, philosophy, romance, sighs

2e5eddccdbb0b5510a1ae1c1e48e6a81

I live in the borderlands,
between reality and imagination,
just this side of fantasy.

Reality is okay.
I visit there
to check my mail,
earn a few dollars,
pay some bills,
buy groceries.

Reality is an okay place to visit
but, I wouldn’t want to live there.

I’m happiest in my mind
where I filter my thoughts
like an answering machine.
I delete the negative,
dwell on the positive.

People may see me walking alone.
They don’t see the beautiful woman,
with her hand in mine, beside me.

I may be seen sitting at a table, alone.
Nobody sees the delicate hand,
with the magic fingers,
sliding up my thigh.

Or, the passionate kiss
being planted on my throat,
the fingers running through my hair.

Where I work
people see me smile.
They think I enjoy my job.
They don’t know me.

…

Sample my books for free — proceeds feed the homeless:
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slipping and sliding

09 Tuesday Jan 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

city sidewalks, difficulty, pedestrians, runners, slush, snow, treacherous, walking, winter

images (1)

Encumbered by winter boots
resembling clown shoes
my steps unsure
hesitant
as I traverse
treacherous squishy slush
not yet cleared
from busy sidewalks

Runners sprint past me,
prancing gazelles
clad in tight
form fitting outerwear
navigate
narrow beaten paths
dodging obstacles
such as me

…

Sample my books for free — proceeds feed the homeless:
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voyeur

08 Monday Jan 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

dreams, fantasy, imagination, longing, sighs

from a small
upstairs window
everyday i watched
the lithe, graceful figure
tending her garden.

her hair
waves of sunshine
of a color used by Titian
in his portraits
of Judith

my interest
devotion, obsession,
i was powerless to resist —
a voyeuristic
perversion

her image
haunts my dreams
and my waking state.
she follows me
as shadow

…

Sample my books for free — proceeds feed the homeless:
Gotta Find a Home: Conversations with Street People
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unobserved

07 Sunday Jan 2018

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

dreams, erotic, fantasy, free, imagination, longing, mystery, nature, romance, sighs, spells

unobserved
i gaze upon you
lost in the world of a book.
i wonder which poet,
which author
holds your wrapt attention
to the exclusion
of all else.

Is it Burroughs?
Aristophanes?
or is it lighter reading,
a novel perhaps?
erotic historical romance?
i could ask you
but hesitate
to break their spell.

…

Image: https://buff.ly/2zkXNJx:

when buffalo roamed…

31 Tuesday Oct 2017

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

death, destiny, dreams, eternal, fantasy, forever, free, lifetimes, longing, love, romance

I pray
there is a place
beyond pain
where we will rise
in purity
above the cedars.

look down
our hearts have claimed
a rock ledge
to escape the rain,
a cathedral
among ancient pines.

stories
your grandma told
of a past
when buffalo roamed —
we were there
using different names.

…

Image: https://buff.ly/2zkXNJx:

there is a place…

31 Tuesday Oct 2017

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Buddhism, peaceful, quietude, silence, solitude, stillness

there is a place
of solitude
where winds don’t blow
where leaves refuse to rustle

it is the space
of waiting
of anticipation
between musical notes

in this space
i am free
nothing comes or goes
nothing gives rise to distress

this is a place
i visit
where worldly troubles
have no place to settle

…

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The Letter

23 Monday Oct 2017

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

destiny, emotion, eternal, forever, imagination, longing, mystery, nature, romance, sighs, spirits

I wanted to write
you a letter.
I didn’t know
just what to say.
So much has happened
little has happened
it’s happening every day.

You talked to me
of forever
so far away
yet, not so far.
You whispered
we’d be together
united as a single star.

I wandered the woods
lost and alone.
You took my hand
guided and charmed me.
Woodsmoke and cedar
drifted on the breeze.
I wondered if I’d find you
hiding behind our old oak tree.

…

Shadrak

22 Sunday Oct 2017

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

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Tags

attraction, dance, drunk, inspiration, insults, knife, lust, murder, music, stabbing, violence

Saturday found me at the Shadrak,
a downstairs club that had it all.
A woman took the floor in glad rags.
I felt I was in for a fall.

She spied me lounging in the corner.
My eyes caressed her every move.
She beckoned me over to the dance floor,
sleazy blues had us in the groove.

She was a tall sleek woman with a class act,
slumming and feeling so high.
Knew this was wrong — her legs were so long,
dress was cut up to her thigh.
She had to be a wife or a girlfriend,
no man would let this woman slip by.

Soft fingers stole away my reason,
for her I’d do right or wrong.
Flash of a thigh, wink of an eye,
she played that dress just like a song.
Maybe her lips, or the sway of her hips,
she had my number all along.

The scene couldn’t have been sweeter,
‘till Johnny sauntered through that door.
Cursed us a while, said we were vile,
reputations trampled on the floor.
Should have walked away, that isn’t my way,
his accusations cut to my core.

No backing down for right or for wrong,
for her I had to settle the score.
Glint of a knife, the end of a life,
Johnny lay dying on the floor.

Built to tantalize, she knew she was a prize;
she was a tall sleek woman with a class act,
slumming and feeling so high.
Knew this was wrong — her legs were so long,
I couldn’t let this woman slip by.
I wouldn’t let this woman slip by.

…

The Hollies: Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress

Lyrics: http://ow.ly/TwlRS

	Resa on Freedom – Holly Rene…
	House of Heart on Freedom – Holly Rene…
	House of Heart on a different kind of love
	DennisCardiff on a different kind of love
	House of Heart on a different kind of love

Dennis Cardiff

~ Poems & Prose

Category Archives: Poetry

First Kiss

Beach Girl

Frost

when buffalo roamed

Wild Rose

Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC

D. L. FINN

Poetry by D. L. Finn

D. L. FINN, RWISA Author Page

New-mown Hay

whisper and moan

borderlands

The Silver Fox

Concrete Box

Morning Star

Prairie Crocus

Hunter Spirits

Playful Spirit

frost

Memory In Blue

Fireplace

Mourning Dove

Caribbean Lovers

choogling

Robert

Borderlands

slipping and sliding

voyeur

unobserved

when buffalo roamed…

there is a place…

The Letter

Shadrak

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