White Horse

Rescue me, mon ami,
from the debris of life
save me from the
threads that weave
my heart to yours

I need saving now and then
my head is tired and
my body aches for you
to save me some day
on your white horse

I’m not your Fairy Godmother
flying in and out of your life
to save you from yourself
I carry no magic wand
to make it all better

I can only offer one gift
my eternal love for you
wretched soul that you are
so rescue me, mon amour,
save me from myself

–by Victoria Emmons, © 2014


Purple urchins tossed
Into seaweed mountains
Crushed by a wave

Sandy coins washed
Ashore under driftwood
Sculpted by the sea

Shards of blue porcelain
Chiseled over time
Piled by change

Castles of sea foam
Dance in ocean meadows
Vanquished by wind

Nature unleashed
Through powers unknown
So who sculpted me?

–Victoria Emmons, © 2014

Advice to the Love Lorne: Begin a New Chapter


Appreciate those who eagerly

Await your return

Those whose wet noses

Press against your leg

And whose warm bodies

Find your sleeve.


Don’t lament those who deftly

Cast your feelings aside

In favor of a new town,

A new love, a new adventure

And wander out of your life

As easily as they broke in.


By Victoria Emmons



Is Poetry Pathetic?

Some people do not understand poetry, much less poets. They say that poetry is pathetic, has no real meaning, and is nonsensical. But I disagree with the naysayers. They are simple minds with no depth. They have no way of knowing about the pleasures of poetry and the pleasures of poets.

The poetic mind is constantly filled with song…words that dip and dive into action at any moment. Poets are able to see life through the natural rhythm of words, no matter what language. From deep within, a poet is able to create a mood, a thought-provoking scene, a self-battle of tortuous dimension, a humorous spoof, a loving tribute. No matter what, the poet can carve words out of nothing. And do it over and over again every moment of every day.

Long live the poet!