Riviera Maya


Los pájaros el la mañana

son muy sonoros

negro, feliz, libre.

Ellos me dicen, bienvenidos!

Me turno a mi amor en la cama

le beso en su frente y

cierro mis ojos y escucho.

La espuma cae sobre las rocas en la playa

se parece una baila.

La sal en el aire y en mi piel

todos crean mis sueños

como una madre crea amor

por sus hijos.

Mis manos, mi cuerpo nada

en el cálido mar, agua turquesa

me rodea.

Me sentí tranquila, cansada pero

contenta, áspero pero suave,

como una concha lava del olas

del mar, cambió, bonita, único.


The birds in the morning

are very sonorous

black, happy, free.

They tell me, welcome!

I turn to my love in the bed

I kiss him on his forehead and

I close my eyes and listen.

The foam falls about the rocks on the beach

it looks like a dance.

The salt in the air, on my skin

all create my dreams

like a mother creates love

for her children.

My hands, my body swims

in the warm ocean, aqua blue water

surrounds me.

I felt calm, tired but

content, rough but smooth

like a sea shell washed by the waves

of the sea, changed, pretty, unique.

Be the snow


I want to walk among the

snowflakes and just be.

Adopt floating feelings

not fleeing just seeing.

Follow their directions into

new resurrections when

the wind picks up

ushering fractals into

space or ground to melt.

Let me melt like them into

this sphere and feel the love

so temporary, the heart knows.

This snow is telling,

quiet flurries that mirror life.

Don’t wish it away,

here & now, let’s stay.

Malvorrosa My Love

In a warm pink glow

the sun dips her head

below graceful palms

dark emerald hues

cascading foam

breathing rhythmic


far away yet fresh

like a spring

water quenching

my heart’s thirst.

Your body beckons

your arms surround

mine like gentle

lapping waves

always in my head

heralding smiles

soon against your chest

resting eternal

comfort softly burning

a forever memory.


Consciousness & Morning Poetry

You are not your mind or your thoughts. You are the consciousness in which the thoughts come and go. – Deepak Chopra

I usually wake up

too early

when God’s fingertips are

just gently touching the horizon

orange or light blue streaks

through the curtains

birds singing & chirping merrily

or sleepily or maybe that’s

how I hear them in

a lucid gossamer state.

Those things I said or

wrote come back to me

in words, sentences

driving pins in my mind.

It’s nice when I can

laugh them off and

forget but occasionally

they keep me up until the

alarm sounds,

sweetly my love

reaches for my body

and we try to go back

to our dreams until

the radio blares again

if we are lucky it’s

a jazz song streaming

soulfully to announce

a beautiful day

and if not I am comforted

even if sleep deprived

because there is an embrace

and how blessed

I am that it belongs to you

and it for me.

Moon Poetry

The moon is always there
early morning slivers
dusky evening full blooms
powerful as love in a woman’s eyes.

Whether resting or traveling
I need her consistent peace
gentle undulating waters
in my heart and soul.

She shines, beams
beckons ocean waves, sprouts,
harvests; I shall tip toe
among gardens blessed
bathing in her lunar light.

My favorite Pablo Neruda Love Poems

Valentines Day Orchids from my hubby

I’ve read Pablo Neruda’s The Captain’s Verses (1972) a few times, the copy I have comes in English and Spanish versions of the poems.  Below are my favorite poems from Captains Verses, they literally bring tears to my eyes on every read.  Ah, el amor.  Happy Valentines Day!


I have named you queen.

There are taller ones than you, taller.

There are purer ones than you, purer.

There are lovelier than you, lovelier.

But you are the queen.

When you go through the streets

no one recognizes you.

No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks

at the carpet of red gold

that you tread as you pass,

the nonexistent carpet.

And when you appear all the rivers sound

in my body, bells

shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world.

Only you and I,

only you and I, my love,

listen to it.



I am the tiger.

I lie in wait for you among leaves

broad as ingots

of wet mineral.

The white river grows

beneath the fog. You come.

Naked you submerge.

I wait.

Then in a leap of fire, blood, teeth,

with a claw slash I tear away

your bosom, your hips.

I drink your blood, I break

your limbs one by one.

And I remain watching

for years in the forest

over your bones, your ashes,

motionless, far

from hatred and anger,

disarmed in your death,

crossed by lianas,

motionless in the rain,

relentless sentinel

of my murderous love.



I have hurt you, my dear,

I have torn your soul.

Understand me.

Everyone knows who I am,

but that “I am”

is besides a man

for you.

In you I waver, fall

and rise up burning.

You among all beings

have the right

to see me weak.

And your little hand

of bread and guitar

must touch my breast

when it goes off to fight.

That’s why I seek in you the firm stone.

Harsh hands I sink in your blood

seeking your firmness

and the depth that I need,

and if I find

only your metallic laughter, if I find

nothing on which to support my harsh steps

adored one, accept

my sadness and my anger,

my enemy hands

destroying you a little

so that you may rise from the clay

refashioned for my struggles.



Your whole body has

a fullness or a gentleness destined for me.

When I move my hand up

I find in each place a dove

that was seeking me, as

if they had, love, made you of clay

for my own potter’s hands.

Your knees, your breasts,

your waist

are missing parts of me like the hollow

of a thirsty earth

from which they broke off

a form,

and together

we are complete like a single river,

like a single grain of sand.

Old poems I found again


Your beauty washes over me

A warm rain on a summer evening

Imaginary perfume from distant roses.


A flame cannot be burnt

Passion painted in heated strokes

Brilliant colors and shapes consuming


Words with multifaceted surface

Diamonds scattered in the wind.


There’s a great awakening

ushered with cavernous winds

beckoning, weaving

dark thread bends

heaving extracting

meaningful gems.


Solar flares kiss

your cheeks with energy

given beauty smitten

hard hitting then rest

the eclipse peels

citrus zest my breast

falls with exhale.


Conquer leisure when

vigor ends tea cup steamy

nourishing ital very small

moments shine in your eye

her hips make you high

enlightened feverish skies.