Hello,

This writing blog was born on April 11th, 2011. (Not long after my heart sprung forth with appreciation, respect and care for the man who will today become my husband.) From the time of its birth until today, I have fed this blog different tales. In the beginning, I also focused on stream of consciousness journaling, but at some point, I steered away from that platform entirely and focused the content on poetry.

This won’t change in large (although I am very intrigued by those who write fiction on their blogs and may eventually add a page for that purpose) but I will not resist writing about love today.

April and Poetry Month will end today. April with her cold fingertips and reaching grip on frost… But near the end of the day she will ease off completely and tomorrow she will succumb as May brings a heatwave to Portland.

At around five forty-five, my lover and I will marry one another at the Multnomah County Courthouse. April will close her yearly thirty-day allowance and the sun will set at 7:47 but allow for another hour or so of light. (The long days are one thing that makes living in the Northwest spectacular.)

We hope to find ourselves on a rooftop eating dinner during sunset, and perhaps into civil twilight, with Jeff’s kind parents in company and our hearts full of magic.

All of this has everything to do with love of course, as I jump around between civil twilight, civil union and (uncivil) weather.

Love was the very thing on our minds while in each others arms the day we decided to get married. Love–when we decided that being small and intimate would be the right path for us. And April 30th? After three years together, we opted for a short engagement to bring our new dream to life. And what better day to have the first day of the rest of our lives than the true ending of winter?

Well, all of that April weather brilliance as if we planned it… Although we did not (just drawing random metaphors), I am happy. And Jeffrey is happy too.

Thanks to all who have followed my poetic musings over the years….

Peace and take heart: poetry saves the world.

Ever, brandy