My Poetry


Lilacs of May 

Oh sweet gift,
The lilacs of May.

Early Spring.

For your delicate buds, I wait. 

My delight! 
Gentle beauty…nature’s palette
Of lavender and green.  

Oh sweet gift, 
The lilacs of May,  

Your fragrance wafts– 
Through an open window,
Permeating my pillow. 

Sweet dreams accompanied by 
Gentle rain. 
Fresh.  Still.  Life. 

 Oh sweet gift, 
The lilacs of May,  

My heart is quiet as
I bid you farewell–
To rest.  Renew.  Return.  

Oh sweet gift,
The lilacs of May.

She Runs

She is nine, this one
does not feel pretty
has few friends
wonders who she is

She is not the talented one
nor the athletic one
certainly not the smart one
she is confused, scared, insecure 

Loves a bubble bath
dreaming in the moonlight
chocolate ice cream
What inspires this one? 

How is nine supposed to feel
when you’re a girl
does it always feel this messed up
crazy, this alone? 

She wonders.  She runs.
She learns she is the only ONE
And she is special
She is loved.  She is a girl. 

And she runs…not away
not like a girl
this one runs inspired
toward her hidden self, unique.


It is my choice as I greet the day,
To extend a heart filled with warmth
And a smile of compassion.

It is my choice to affirm more,
Condemn less, be humble,
Accept those who are different. 

It is my choice to still any anger,
Pray first, speak second,
Forgive and let go. 

It is my choice to lend an ear of empathy
To a grieving friend,
And carry the spirit of Christmas throughout the year. 

It is my choice to send a note,
Make the call, say thank you,
Appreciate everything. 

It is my choice to plant the flowers,
Share my joy,
And let God take care of the weeds. 

It is my choice to acknowledge that there is purpose
To everyone and everything,
Yet I see only a piece of the panoramic view. 

It is my choice to encourage and love,
Giving life the best of me,
To best make a difference in my world.

Carol Slager