Saturday, July 04, 2009



I have grown weary of utterances
both yours and mine
spoken, heard, yet
not sinking in,
words ripple out to
the horizon
... gone...

Yesterday’s words return like echoes across
a darkly organic lake,
alive with possibilities of leaping trout
and pan fried fillets for supper.

Friday, July 03, 2009

Claire at Play

Claire at play

Tousled waves halo your sun blessed face.
Sweetly rumpled, fresh from dreams,
other awakenings yet to come, and

your hands are busy, intently moving cards
this way and that, humming, happy,
oblivious to my thirsty eyes,

so I sit, coffee in hand, bible in lap
torn between morning devotions
and the vision of glory at my feet

while this small solitude is injected with life.

Lesley-Anne Evans

Thursday, July 02, 2009

I Saw a Poem

I saw a poem

I saw it clearly as I let my eyes linger --
something there
just beyond the obvious

and, like a trout hovering while the fly is cast and
insistently played upon the surface of the pond,
I felt it drawing me

words forming on my silent lips
as God spoke poem into existence
and I, taking the barb-less hook

swallowed deeply.

Lesley-Anne Evans

Wednesday, July 01, 2009


A dog barks in the distance
carried on the still warm evening
breeze through my open window

the leaves of the katsura whisper
of water over stones
and thoughts washed clean

I lounge in cotton sheets
while indigo darkness absorbs
twinkling lives of distant neighbours


hush now

and you will hear…

waves embracing shoreline
and the stirring of gentler things

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Inspiration of the garden…

Winged Joy

I heard you --
calling out from the top most branches
of the transplanted maple that was
driven four hours over mountains
and dug into the bed of my back yard.

Perching there --
you surveyed all things around you;
children splashing in the neighbour's pool,
orchard trees fresh sprayed with dormant oil,
lawn mown and edged and irrigated,

and me --
dozing in the late day sun,
book open in my lap, a brief
escape from earthbound thoughts.

You roused me --
and I saw your winged song take flight…
and then recalled that joy
is often found
on wings.

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