There are inspiration and stories behind most creative works of art. But on occasion the tale behind it is too a little bit of art that must be shared, a special thank you to be expressed, or an insight that needs to be revealed. 

This Index was put in for that purpose. 

You will find a select number of titles here in alphabetical order. Enjoy “A World in Inspiration” as an insight into the heart & soul of this writer and her craft.

A Catch:

        A question for the ages or the story of my life . . . the eternal damnation of trying to make heads or tales of these things called life and love.


A Glow:

        Originally written with “The Watcher” it’s more of a thought than a poem. He couldn’t figure out why women ran from him the moment they seemed comfortable with him. I think we’ve all wondered “What went wrong?” at least once in our lives.


a Knight by Night / One Day / The Palace of Her Heart:

        These started out as “journal” entries for a story my sister and I were co-writing about a young girl, Renee, learning to trust the man she blames for her best friend’s death. She takes up writing in Sarah’s journal which they had affectionately named Kitty. These were three of Sarah’s entries about Nick, the feudal lord’s son.

(The story has since been abandoned and the poetry from
 the entries reclaimed by the individual writers.)


A Piece of Me:

        This person has NO clue.

                  I just don’t think he pays much attention.


A Spark in the Dark:

        They say a man chases a woman until she catches him. Guess it’s true! If you think this was bad – we used to work together and I would poke him in the ribs with a flashlight cone.


Alone No More:

        I dedicate this to a special person who helped me out of one of the lower points in my life. Who knew that it’d take a former marine to get me over a future marine.

an Emerald Dawn:

        The hour leading to dawn has always been my favorite. But driving out in the desert you can see the epic battle you’d never suspect was taking place during the quietest hour on earth.


and I Wonder:

        Little did this “toy” know as I wrote this in my “journal” that the heartbreak that followed would be part some of the darkest hours in my life; turning this from observation to the eerie foreshadowing that it became.


Child’s Toy:

        F–k-r! There I said it. He still treats me like this. Why I put up with it, I’ll never know. I’d never been stood up – EVER – until that night; guess it would have taken him to do it. Well, unless you count being stood up for “guys night out.” But this was so deeper a cut, the darkest point I can remember.



        For all the children here and lost everyday. To my twins.


Days of Love / O’ Dear:

        I was performing a lot of Shakespeare in Dramatic Arts class at the time; cast in the role Robin Starveling in “Midsummer Night’s Dream” – yes a girl playing a guy playing a girl. It was probably the funniest thing you’d ever see.


Destiny’s Child:

        “Her love is her danger” was written for the inspiration behind this poem by her “sister” when she was still but a small child; how true it became in the years to come.



        For Bill Alexander. Dude the hours that you kept me up. Thanks. Don’t know how any of my early writings or homework would have ever gotten done with out your DJ work. – Still cool you had a crush on my mom.


Do You Remember:

        This started out somewhere in writing a tribute to 9 – 11 on my web site. After the first few lines I realized it was about a love I’d lost, one that has stayed with me through all these years. The way it ended was very much like the way the towers came crumbling down; 1st disbelief that a love so tall & strong could be damaged so terribly by something so relatively small, hope that it wouldn’t get worse, and numb horror as it crashed down around me, leaving a vast hole in my heart. On a day of remembering those lost I had to remember him.

I still feel the pain and still ask; “Do you remember me?”

Fallen Angel:

        Not much to say after a poem like that. It says it all except to that this moment I still don’t know if this person lied or not. He did to a point, but how much of the lie was lie and what part was truth?
        Should one forgive such a little thing? Or hold on to it as a reminder to always keep back a piece of yourself from that one?


Fallen Grace:

        Forgotten for a long time in my journals of 2000; this was originally started upon hearing of a young friend’s “fall from grace.” Somewhere I began to think of the others in my life who’d fallen; and how we all can fall sometimes. I had to include it for all the ironies it contains in my life now.


Favorite HeartBreak:

        It will forever be this way. You inspire me to better things.


Floating Dreams:

        This began as an Away message telling my friends I was asleep, and I got a little carried away. Inspiration comes at the craziest times and you just have to run with it. It’s truly one of my favorite poems. Ok so I can be a little overly dramatic at times – So sue me!


Heart & Mind:

        This once again brings to light the faults of over analyzing Everything. Love is a leap of faith, not a word problem – though it can sometimes give you a problem with words.


How my Heart Breaks:

        This one I wrote after I started taking notice that a lot of what I did when I was younger I didn’t find as much delight in, including the newness of love. It still gets me going – “who did I write this about?” Until I get to the end and go “oh yeah – that’s right – me.”


Just Friends:

        How do you go on being friends when the other person won’t acknowledge that you love them, even if you both know they don’t feel the same.



        I’m sorry. I never meant for it to end up this way.


Life is Too Short for Pain:

        A lesson learned from the most emotionally bloody relationship I’ve ever had.

        This is for that gold dragon that was once companion, then enemy, now protector and friend. Who would have thought that in being caught between two men it’d be the “bad boy” that pulled through and eventually became my hero.


Life of a Star:

        Written after a discussion with an object of my deep affection – unfortunately amidst events that would lead to my eventual end with this person – during which he was explaining the inspiration behind a work of art of his own. I was compelled to pen the first version of this poem. I found it prophetic that the stars in the heavens live an almost parallel existence to those whom we call “Stars.” 

        This is for all those who fall fate to this undetectable disease that leads to the eventual decay of heart, spirit, mind and body; the slow demise of those who call Entertaining their business. May we each find peace in our own personal mortality.


Losing You:

        I wrote this when I thought I had lost someone very dear to me. I didn’t realize I still cared that much till I was faced with the possibility of him going away again. There are some people whose chapter in our lives never closes and it continues to affect us whether we realize it or not. I’m glad this person is still part of my life, and that I did not lose this friend.



        I began to contemplate the significance of words and themes in one’s life after I found a hidden picture file on my computer containing a scanned image of a love letter I’d burned from someone who I’d loved deeply. Ironically the file was titled “meaningless” because I’d wanted to remind myself should I ever come across this file that though he felt that way then, those words held no meaning now. Even if he was still a part of my life, I was no longer part of his.


Memories and Dreams:

        Hope through uncertainty. You can never truly give up on those you love, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself. If nothing else there’s a dream waiting on the other side to bring you happiness even when reality is dark.


Mended Wings:

        Thank you again, Friend. I may have been your angel but you were my guardian. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. If I ever find someone worthy of bringing to life the image you left me with, it will have yet another form worthy of your gift.


Music of the Night:

        If the ‘Angel of Music’ were to have form in this day and age it could not have been more apparent than that night; a Demon with the voice Angel rising on a stage from below. I didn’t know then that if I stepped onto that dance floor I’d never walk away again. Though I didn’t realize it then the course of my life would change forever, and I would never be the same. If you could only see . . .


Never Neverland 1 & 2:

        I was accused of living in a fantasy world because of working in a theme park, and holding to high ideals. Little did the accuser know how little of a fantasy world my life was at that point. But it never hurts to dream of a better life. We can inspire ourselves if we can envision a better place and time.


No More Words:

        I was trying to put together a CD of special songs for someone and came across the song with the same title. I was so frustrated I couldn’t find the words myself to express what I wanted to about how I felt and no one thing seemed to get it right. I didn’t know that if I waited a few years I’d find those songs – unfortunately too late, and by that same person only for someone else. Guess great minds think alike.

        I believe that love should consist of more than just words; though it may sometimes leave me at a loss for them.


Sleeping Beauty:

        This is one of those great stories. This poem though truthfully inspired by my calico, it was written for a male friend of mine who’d been let down in the literality of the poem “Petal of a Rose” feeling that the unintentional implications of female sexuality had been squandered. So I composed one that blatantly smacked of female sexuality and was still – as he would put it – a let down. Boy was he upset with me – quite funny though. Thanks for always pushing me to strive toward my best and better, even if it was unintentional.



        “Someday” is never what we expect.


Squalid Prison:

        “Your body is a temple.” So what happens when you feel trapped in a body that isn’t part of who you are? A great many palaces became prisons in years to follow. Some prisons are inescapable.


the First Time; Again:

        It is said that “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Ever have a moment when you see someone for the first time in forever and you realize what they really meant to you?


the Petal of a Rose:

        This has branched out a little in recent past. The flower bloomed a little more with time. Babe, you still mad at me over the wasted connotations? Too bad it was based on actual events.


The Watcher:

        This I wrote about myself in an attempt to explain what my life had become. It eventually won me my first publication on the first Sounds of Poetry published by the Library of Poetry collection CDs.

To Soar with Angels:

        The Fateful Moment on The Most Fateful Night of my life.

        I dedicate this poem to a very dear friend of mine. Little does he know the healing quality his voice has. He puts his heart and soul into his music and his performances, because of that without even knowing him he can lift you up.

– I’m so proud to know you; it is a treat and an honor.



Tonight at TLT:

        Angel or devil – only you know, dear.

        This was actually the second night I met these guys – another fateful night to be sure. Between leaving this group – assuming that we’d never again cross paths – and the next morning, a dear friend succumbed to the M.S. that had controlled her for so many years. All her daughter wanted to do was be where her mother had always been the happiest – the Magic Kingdom. So there again I allowed a bruised heart to float upon their sound. Thank you for all the moments when grief could be forgotten, and for being a friend back then.


Want to Say:

        This poem came after a friend accused me of being overly dramatic. “Well, Hell,” I thought, “I’m a writer. When I have something to say it can sometimes come out dramatic.”

        It bothered me for days – I tried to think of ways to explain this to him but it always came out with a “dramatic flourish.” The first two lines came to me then. As I thought about it the rest flowed. By the time I was done I realized – my signature IS my dramatic flourish – it’s part of who I am, no matter how hard I try, it always will be. Most my friends love me for that.
        I can no more pretend not be something I am; as I can pretend to be something I’m not.



Waterfall Rushing:

        Two words – Roxy’s.