we make do.

we eat worry

with yesterday’s leftovers,

anxiousness swallowed down

with a bit of bread

that we bought with loose change

found between seat cushions

years of empty pockets

have left us accustomed

to its stale taste

it will be another long day today

the poems will have to wait

there is rarely time for writing anymore

if we aren’t working

our time is stolen by daily chores

and doctor appointments

on the rarer days,

when the quiet greets us,

our minds are still consumed

with this sense of foreboding

we can’t seem to escape

it’s rather suffocating,

always falling short of thriving

most days, we’re barely surviving

our wallets are paper thin

and the coffers are empty

our hearts are full though,

and i suppose

that makes us richer than most

– ashley jane

she is summer.

summer always reminds me of her,

the feel of line dried clean sheets,

the smell of strawberry rhubarb jam

being made in the kitchen

along with fresh bread

and fig cake with pomegranate

i wait by the window for the june rains,

the heat ushering in wistful memories

of the woman who held the solstice in her soul

– ashley jane

thank you.


you spend your mornings

with coffee and crosswords,

your afternoons

filled with dirt and digging,

the tilling of sandy soils

in a garden that gives back

there is such power

in the small things,

the shoots of plants that bloom

from seeds in sowed fields,

the energy of life and love

in hands that endeavor to provide

– ashley jane

There to Stay


She gets lost
in his chocolate eyes,
and dark hair
that frames his face.
She’s captivated
by his easy spirit,
his loving heart,
his piercing gaze.
He knows her demons,
accepts them all
He knows her mistakes,
understands her flaws.
He’s the anchor
that holds her steady,
always willing,
always ready.
He takes care of her,
stands beside her.
When she’s unsure,
he reminds her
that she deserves
some happiness.
That it’s ok if
she’s a mess.
He reminds her
every single day,
that no matter what,
he’s there to stay.

Breath_words© 8/4/15