As I focus, I know. I call
New beginnings for me and overall.
Grow with me as you wish.
Desire pulls me one way now.
I do not yet know, but it is a vow
To a one or a thing of great value.
Alone, I felt a sweet hug just today,
From exactly whom I cannot say.
May it swell with moon energy.
Though I cannot see the arms,
I have felt the attractive charms,
Expecting now the physical to appear.
I felt him holding me in delight
Not knowing who he is this night,
Yet feeling his hope rising with mine.
So it is and shall always be.
What I seed comes to meet me.
This I expect and do also believe
I never heard chants or spells
But folks thought my Mama
And her grandmother were
Somehow queerer than other folk
In eastern North Carolina,
Including Mama’s amber eyes.
Mama was superstitious,
Attributed to her grandmother
Who had lived in their home,
Reported to be half Lumbee or
Cherokee Indian, though
It’s not showing up in my blood.
Mama went to the best local psychic,
Who had said that her amber eyes
Meant something special for her life,
Not to waste it. Given her problematic life,
I can only assume Mama ignored
The good psychic’s advice.
My eyes are now ocean blue-green,
Though formerly blue like sky.
Now they bubble with green and amber,
Changing with mood or colors I wear,
Unpredictably shifting, like the special
Blood of my ancestors.
Full Crow Moon
Moon glow on the wood floor
Lights my path to the bright
East windows. A nearly
Full Crow Moon, Sap Moon,Sugar Moon, Worm Moon, the last
Full moon of winter. No matterHow hard or mild the season,
Our ancestors named them all,
Called them by the common
Truth of their own days, the laws of
Life, of planting their blessed harvest
With hallowed richness.
End of winter hardship, start of
Spring and new beginnings
Are heralded by this moon.
Thoughts, different patterns, my own
Grateful open offering to the fertile
Spring Goddess; true rebirth after
Lenten chastity, lean and lonely
Life begins anew with this
Connecting moon. Ready now,
I accept proposals for interesting
New adventures. Come now,
All offers, and lead my own
Precious creative self to my next
Fully blooming gracious Garden.
New Moon Prayer
These things I plant
And these I know
Will move toward me
‘Ere a fortnight grow.
My heart is set;
My mind is sure.
All good things come
And shall endure.
The Light in me
Attracts the same.
All these good things
Shall know my name.
I feel this good
Rising in me now,
Though I know not when
Nor yet see how.
Grateful am I
Here in this place
And ever thankful
For Heaven’s Grace.
And so it is
And so it shall be.
Amen, amen and
Grace to me.
For my holiday tree I bought a
Tiny silver ornament on a shiny
Silver chain, two gleaming pieces
Adorned with glass-diamond beads,
Both free-hanging on chains.
The little shining crown, with its
Bright ring of pretend gems,
Hangs on the lower of two
Separately extended chains.
Above it a gleaming silver heart
With a bold diamond center,
On its own links hangs
Just above the silvery crown.
If there is to be another Handsome prince in my life,
His heart is here enshrined.
In my crown-mind, joined with My diamond-heart, I hold that
Sacred space for him until
He finds his queen, and
Loves her for who she really is.
Beads of glass and a cheap
Silver crown no more,
We shall employ the pure and
Exquisite Magick that
Unites True Mates in love.
Pamela’s poems have been published in the Virginia Bards Central Review, Virginia Writers Club Journal, Wingless Dreamer (Tribute to Lord Byron), Poetry Society of Virginia Journal and also in an international collection titled “Childhood, Vol. 1,” published by The Poet Magazine. Her chapbook, “Renewal: Cultivating My Better Self,” received an Honorable Mention in a 2020 National Poetry Writing Month Contest. In 2019 Pamela won the Hampton Roads Writers Poetry Contest for her poem “Mrs. Creekmore’s May Peas,” about the mass shooting in Virginia Beach.
Pamela’s career-based writing included contracted nonfiction, instructional design and manuals, developmental and copy editing, and online/print writing for her regional newspaper and internet gateway. Now retired, she’s harvesting 40 years of poetry, journals and travelogues to create new works—and fun!