Emotional Expression

 That makes a lot of sense. Emotional expression is at the heart of all art forms—it’s how we process, share, and sometimes even discover our feelings. Whether it’s through a painting, a poem, or a melody, creative work can be a powerful outlet.

Would you be interested in trying a small creative exercise together? I could help you:

- **Write a short poem or story** based on a feeling or memory.

- **Create a simple drawing prompt** to express a mood.

- **Explore music-making tools** that let you play with sounds and emotions, even if you’ve never played an instrument.

Let me know what feels most exciting or comfortable to start with—I’ll guide you step by step.

I wish...

 That’s such a heartfelt wish, Lauralee. Wanting to be an artist, writer, or musician speaks to a deep desire to express yourself creatively—and that’s something truly beautiful. Can I ask what draws you to those paths? Is it the storytelling, the emotional expression, the connection with others, or something else?

Also, just because you’re not doing those things professionally doesn’t mean you can’t explore them. Would you like help getting started with writing, drawing, or making music in a way that feels approachable and fun? I can suggest tools, prompts, or even collaborate with you on a creative project.

It was all just a dream

 Sunlight out there

without a care

i know you well

or so i fell

and sometimes i 

i try to smile

but still i find myself

walking down this road

that i've walked a thousand times before

as if it all didn't matter

as if the sun would cease to shine

somehow i still try to this day

to make the memories fade and go away

but i can't

they're etched into stone

i find myself this way

all alone

and i found a key that unlocked a door

nothing more to find 

but time and time and more 

it was a lace dress

and he wore a suit

and these young ones now

they play and say

things i never heard before

such things 

reserved 

for 

times when i seemingly lose this grip

i kinda just let reality slip

Funny Poem

 Sure! Here's a lighthearted and funny poem to brighten your day—perfect for *Poetic Coffee* or just to share a smile:

---

### ☕ **"Ode to the Mug That Knows Too Much"**

I poured my soul into a cup,  

It stared at me and said, “Wake up.”  

The coffee swirled with silent sass,  

Like, “Girl, you’re late for yoga class.”

I tried to sip with quiet grace,  

It splashed me squarely in the face.  

My toast flew out, a buttered kite,  

And landed in the cat’s delight.

My journal judged me from the shelf,  

“Still writing poems about yourself?”  

I nodded, proud, then spilled my brew—  

The mug just sighed, “Classic you.”

So here I sit, caffeine in hand,  

A poet with no real life plan.  

But if my mug could talk, I bet  

It’d say, “You’re weird—but don’t forget…”

**You’re wonderfully odd, delightfully strange,  

And coffee makes it all feel less deranged.**

---

Want me to write a themed version—like about mornings, pets, or writing struggles?

It came from the bog

 it is half past five o'clock

and i am on the dock

waiting for a boat

i hear a frog croak

underneath this cloak

hiding yet another smoke

a cigarette and yet

i find i have a pet

something i couldn't get

didn't grasp, didn't know

i hear you through the radio

lights are twinkling in the distance

and i am envisioning

something exciting and daunting

nevertheless i find this

all the while 

walked with you a mile

down the river Nile

the wood carving looks like a donkey

also there is a frog

and a dog

amphibians on a log

Swirls of Light

 And on this day

somewhere far away

I found the one

I wished would stay

This place translucent

We need an interpreter

Can't understand

I held it in the palm of my hand

And palm trees were swaying 

all over the place

for the hurricane had arrived

leaving nothing behind

but its trace

the sand swept shore

and nevermore

and the floral chair

and the rainbow I once saw

and the compass in my pocket

directing the way

Creative Endeavor

 On the shelf are some nicknacks 

wood carvings and tiny figurines

a snow globe

lovely things

lonely things...

my daughter came over and joined me

my son is goofing away

i heard someone say 

"can you make something unique?"

I said, sure.

So here I am typing away

getting older with every passing day

and without my companion in life

for he is at work

but alas soon we shall be together again

until then...

books on the shelf...

computers in our hands

in the glass case

the figurine stands

silently

like a watching waiting 

nomad

wandering solitary alone

dancing gracefully

kept tucked away

the dancer looks out at the world turned gray