In Absence of Macey

To spend my time
with brushes in hand
and puddles of brilliant color
splattered across my pallet
Shaping acrylics into forms
of Divas long past
or landscapes I've yet to witness
except in dreams
The canvas breathes life into creatures
who but for it, would not exist.

Yes, to spend my time
brushes in hand
hues smeared 'cross my face,
my cheek,
my hands...
A big yellow dog draped over my feet...

...When I cannot be in her arms
This is my refuge.


Angela J. Schleicher © 2009

Joy and Sorrow

On Joy and Sorrow

I thought too much of you
Or perhaps, not nearly enough of me
Either way
The critical mass erupted in
my broken heart,
broken home,
broken life...

Though there's truth in what's said:
The greater the heart aches,
The greater its capacity for joy
And for that, I must say "Thank You"
For today my joy
Overshaddows any grief that
that my encounter with you ever caused
And I no longer think so little of me.

Angela J. Schleicher © 2009