This poem is about three girls waiting for the return of their menfolk from the Civil War and was inspired by the above scene from the movie Cold Mountain.

Three girls in Gordon’s meadow,

Arm in arm across the bridge.

Gather may from every hedgerow,

From our ancient acreage

I lean back at Parnel’s wishing well,

With sun light in my hair.

They hold me by the shoulder,

To see whose face is there ~


Is it true, that I have dared?
To think differently than you?
I guess it must seem strange,
That I have broken that taboo.

I’ve pulled the tangled threads,
Of the questions in my mind.
And cut the cords of bondage,
So your lies no longer blind.

Your authority is empty,
A dark contagious plague.
Designed to rein the masses
And influence the vague.

What a waste of life it is,
To surrender your own will
To those that cannot comprehend,
What lies beyond the hill.

They forget about the snow,
And the lesson contained therein.
Not a single snowflake is the same,
No, you’ll never find its twin.

Their beauty lies in difference,
And their failure to conform,
Remember that and mark it well,
When you’re told you’re not the norm.


  A life lived elsewhere,

No need to explain.

I sit alone here waiting,

Like storm clouds bleeding rain.

I’m free as silver song birds,

Entombed in magic stone.

Forever trapped inside a lie,

Although my wings are grown.

I await the warmth of summer,

To ease my bitter pain.

I long to have you close to me,

To feel your love again.

So I have to breathe,

Though I can’t go on,

Yet still I raise a smile.

Because to me the walk’s worth every step,

Yes, your laugh’s worth every mile.