If wind chimes could play your tune,

They’d harmonise the autumn tulips into full bloom,

Winter would be redolent of your smile,

Prolonging summer just for a little while.

If rain drops could fall from heaven’s door,

They’d flood my earth just to hold you once more,

And we would run along the soft cloudy shore,

So our feet could stay off the wanting floor.

Then sit on the sun and watch the colorful caterpillars turn into pink butterflies,

In their thousands their wings will sing those calling lullabies

If only I could make it last just that little bit longer,

I miss you my beautiful daughter.

Poem by Sarah Martin @sugaroc





Hope loves to dances with reality.

He beckons her to plunge into his fantasy.

The song they dance to is of celestial beauty.

Each note depicts the artistry of their forever after.

Inside each melody is the sweetness of their laughter.

But not every turn sways them easily into their next chapter.

With unspoken words they try to remain as light as a feather.

Neither of them wanting to be reliant on one another.

But reality needs hope in order to dance beautifully .

And hope needs reality to breath her into infinity.

Without one another neither of them would truly matter.

Reaching an equipoise and needing each other is the answer.

My poem with art by Loui Jover




I wish I knew all the right words to say.

To make all the pain float away.

Somehow make those bad feelings okay.

I may not have those right words today.

But know you’re not alone in these dark days.

You are in my thoughts always.

Though you walk in between shadows of greys.

Come fly with me out of life’s dismay.

I will protect you with my wings come what may.

Poem by me with art by @ns_art




If angels whispered loudly at the base of your neck,
Would you feel their echoes shudder in protest for silence?

If you closed your eyes tightly forgetting to look away,
Would you still see the light you thought was a myth?

If you strung clouds into an infinite escape rope,
Would you ever be able to climb down to the bottom?

What if you chose to smile that little bit more when fighting a raging war inside,
Would the world frown back in horror?

Wake, walk, talk, talk and talk,
The things we say and to build the day,
To fill the voids of what we lack,
The purposely lost keys to the “my” chains so we can stay!

So round and round they go,
Never answering the real questions,
Sadly living to not know,
Never taking note in the important lessons,

When you turn a blind eye to life,
You miss the beautiful vision of what it means to be alive,
So what happens if you woke up?

By Sarah Martin @sugaroc




Nothing really matters anymore.
Especially when the spiders web weaves her gold thread over the corners of the gray door.
The rays of sunshine crave you, needing you just that little bit more.
But hinges are too rusty to swing easily like before.
Tempting to kick it down and jump out to explore.
Just to feel your burning heat under your feet on the hot floor.
Leaving the warm sensation to rise into your core.
To take a left then do a circle where it counts and make you roar.
Exhale each breath as though you’ve found heaven giving instant life like a spore.
Unless the outside can come in for that adore.
To break through the gold thread to my love despite the potential war.
Then nothing matters but a rusty old hatch needing restore.
Sadly there always need to be more than just opening the door.

💋 Sarah Martin