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Broken Fences


Welcome Oriental


 Welcome to  my Poetry  Garden!

 Here you'll find  peace and  tranquility,  laughter and tears,  joys and sorrows. As you walk these paths you'll begin to see who I am and perhaps walk in some of my footsteps.  All paths here can lead to enlightenment if you tread softly and take the time to truely understand. Peace to you my friends, the gate is always open.

                                            Renée K. Driscoll

In My Garden


My garden has a lovely face that started early spring, with Babys Breath and Rose Bud lips and Blue Bells in a ring.

As summer peeked between the vines a Bachelor Button grew,  and with a Swordleaf claimed his place,  where Carpet Bugles blew.

Then as life bloomed,  he planted there a Honeysuckle Vine,  that wrapped its tendrils through a fence to keep my heart entwined.

Before too long Petunia danced into my flower bed,  then Daisey and a Sunflower soon showed their lovely heads.

Through time the Crabgrass crept into and filled the bed with weeds,  when Bachelor chased a Creeping Phlox and left to spread his seed.

A Kingspear marched in through the gate but couldn't maintain his pose,  then Petunia left with Joe-Pie Weed and Honeysuckle wed Don Juan Rose.

A Foxglove waltzed on through and took my Daisey on a fling,  Sunflower drooped in sad lament to drift away and dream.

No Scarlet Weed nor Bleeding Hearts would I allow to grow,  to guard the gate Snapdragons stood with Boxwood in a row.

The Pansy dandies came and went as Burning Bushes raged,  but 'twas Sweet William stole my heart with Lavender and Sage.

Sweet memories now walk these paths and fill this garden bed, Wisteria whispers as I roam and reap my daily bread.


'Til I Remember

There is this thought within my mind, of an elusive, secret kind. It flits and flitters here and there, from consciousness to unawares. It finds its way within my dreams, through woods and over mountain streams. Just like a butterfly it rides on wings of silver threads, and tides that rise and fall and rise again, 'til I remember, through lessons end.

Two Score & Twenty
Two score and twenty years ago
a star fell from the skies,
and left a trail of stardust
to sparkle in your eyes.
A Cheshire moon was smiling down
upon a quiet earth,
and graced you with a shining smile
the moment of your birth.
The friendship Angel looking down
saw what they did and smiled,
then sent her gift of friendship
to bestow upon this child.
And when the other Angels saw
they all sent  their gifts too,
of kindness, love & gentleness,
bestowing them on you.
That's why you are a special friend
and why you are so sweet,
your kind and gentle heart just shines
on everyone you meet.


Southern Sunrise

As dew lays soft upon the hill
with mangroves thick, bay waters still,
wings flutter through the pre-dawn night,

a ghostly hue in pale moonlight.                                

With rustling reeds along the shore
and mangroves whispering for more,

an Egret calls through pre-dawn night,
so stark and loud in pale moonlight.

Night eases slowly into day
through mangroves thick, soft pink and gray,
wings fluttering through pre-dawn light
are silhouetted dark as night.

Stars slowly fade behind the sun
and mangroves sigh of more to come,
a bird song wings through pre-dawn light

now echoing the end of night.  


Wind Songs

Tis the wind that plays the leaves
and strums the branches of Willow trees,
‘til they bow down in lithe and grace,
where they stand dancing, still in place.

In the whisper of the wind
the Aspens leaves gracefully spin,
grasping the voices of the night,
helping them to begin their flight.

And sweeping gusts of air that find
a song among the standing Pines,                    and d
ive into the canyons wall
to echo back the night birds call.

Rustling through the Palm trees fronds,
rippling across the Lilies pond,
sweeping the eaves with sorrows cry
while mighty Oaks praise sun and sky.

'Tis wind that carries natures songs
that all the trees may dance along.
Wind carried by the Angels wings,
the songs that all of Nature sings.


My Junk Shoppe

I have a favorite Junk Shoppe
I’ll browse in when I find,
the puzzling mazes of my life
all clutter up my mind.

I’ll dig through all the spaces,
through nooks, crannies and shelves.
Sometimes I’ll find sweet memories
or precocious little Elves.

I’ll pick what piques my mind the most
and put them in my sac,
But if I can't find their place
then I will put them back.

The ones I keep I’ll throw into
a pot and stir right quick,
for if the simmer turns to boil
the plot becomes too thick.

So then I must upset the pot
and pour the contents out,
where some will run right with the rhyme
while others dance about.

Yes, I've this favorite junk shoppe
I'll browse throughout my life,
and when the puzzling mazes merge
I'll dance there with delight!


like the stars
in the night sky,
so abundant,
ever moving,
Sometimes hidden
in clouds of confusion,
weeping for their loss
when suddenly,
 revealed by the
winds of change,
on the moonless horizon
of wishes and hope,
life sails on.............


The Poets Walk

Faster - faster, ideas will run, 
  as thoughts break speed and race the sun.
   Quickly - quickly, write them down,
      for thoughts escape without a sound.
       Hurry - hurry, set the pace,
          as words run through poetic grace.
            Silent - silent, rhyming wars,
              with nonsense words to open doors.
                Foolish - foolish, lose the thought,
                   prophetic ideas must be sought.
                     Simply - simply is the key,
                       open your mind so you can see.
                        When fatalistically lost in rhyme,
                           leave it for another time.


 Her forever smile could
 sift the river sounds
 to taste the salty spray
 of the swollen essence
 she could not recall.
 Disolving wave upon wave
of contentia
His brilliantly colored rays,
swaying softly to the sound
of Her breathing,
set somewhere between
the sea and the moon.


out on
six mile hill we
saw the stars seep from dusk
and drank the lovely night to quench
                          our souls


 Deep into the night
 she came,
 stealing the stars
 one by one,
 until only the closest
 But soon
Mother stepped in,
casting her shadow
long into the night,
and the Moon
blushed red.

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