Communion in blue

Burning incense and candles

silent prayers

for your soul

as the tears fall and I kneel

tasting the wine of so many communions

so very long ago

clinging to the past we shared

that dissolves like Christ’s body in my mouth

your memory is still

sacred in the shrine of my heart.

Copyright 2018  LAS All Rights Reserved

Photograph courtesy of Pixabay


The Burning



The heat of the dance



the brown eyes followed me

burning in the shadows

you moved around me

always hidden

until you struck

I followed you

hand on hand

hand on hip

tapping a rhythm

on the back of my wrist

as our heels caught the ground

flying in sparks

stretching the strings

bending me back

branding my heart

carving your name

etch by etch

into my soul

I could not breathe

you stole a kiss

forcing your life into my lungs

dizzying my mind

penetrating my soul

heat touching heat

the edges of my body igniting

a flash


consuming reason

burning out of control

turning our bodies to flames

singing your name until my voice

can no long make a sound

losing each other

to each other

in hide and seek

to find one another again

burning with the heat of the dance


Copyright 2018  LAS All Rights Reserved

Photograph courtesy of Pixabay





The Room


Rain glides down

Rivulets streaking

Shadows across the room

From the curved glass

The window becomes a skin

As the driving rain

Drums a tattoo

Each drop

Picking up light

Reflecting in the mirror

Burning up in candle flame

The incense snakes

Dissolving into



But only in silence spoken

Shared in eyes

A prism

Holding momentary promises

Written with fingerprints

Dancing on naked skin

A story never told

Hidden in the folds

Of a flag

Draping down

To melt into

Paisley Persian patterns

A lake pooling upon the floor


Street lights turn

Apple jellied reds

Green and yellow

Greasy on the slick streets below


His body tenses

As she touches

Fingers to face

Holding his jaw

‘in her palm


unused to

Such delicate passion

Without paying a bitter price

As she demands


Offers everything

The covenant



Confiding her secrets

To the clock on the wall

Their breath

Moaning up the fireplace

The wind catches

Their passion

And pulls away

Threads of promise

To be caught within the spiders web

He shakes an hourglass

And sets it on the floor

Futile and stagnant

Despite their descent

As the sands go unnoticed

In the warp and woof

Of time that they are weaving


Setting the stars in place

He the teacher


Bringer of Light

To the virgin fair

Blue light

Shining from her eyes

She steps into his darkness


Before him

Sinking beneath

Diving through


His soul has hungered for


Unexpected from this young girl

Painting violet


Indigo hues inside his mind

He drinks her freely



Sacrificed and everflowing

Giving life

To quench his thirst


Gathering momentum

She feels the struggle

Aching anguish

Yet sweet and heady

Matching the metal groan

From the bed

Scratching its own diary

Into the wooden floor

As the world spins in crystals


And baubles

Dancing above them

Hung from the ceiling

Bursting fire in their movement


The rain pours

Blood pounds

The heart pumps



Past lust

To reach at something

Abstract and ethereally eternal

Invisible and expanding

Not a trinket for the wooden box

On the mantle


And gaining fecundity

In the womb of the heart and mind

The subconscious

Takes root

Planting itself

Within them

A tiny germ of truth

Resonating out into

Past and future

Shattering into barbs of understanding

Neither can ignore


This place

Has stripped illusions

Laying them bare

But not innocent

Of love that is

Newly created

A bond of trust

Forged stronger

By a drop of dew



Shaken on them

From a passing bear

Wrestling with the universal shadows

Sheets and conscience

The teacher reveals his truth

To hear her voice echo

Off Victorian walls



Their madness unmasking their souls


Alchemy achieved

To their awe and consternation

Thunder rolls



Surf pounds

As she gazes from the bed

Out the rain spattered window

The rock walls

Scatter brick



Sand crumbles

Pushing the ocean

Through old Sutro’s barren tunnels

Miles away

Close enough to touch

Illusion tears

As he cries out her name

Over and over in the surf

Collapsing on

The shores of her breasts

She soothes him

Stroking his head

As a mother to a child

Ever virgin still in his mind

He closes his eyes to sleep

Her body his pillow

His body

Keeping her soul

She alone has put it there

Imprisoned by choice

Yet soaring freely with his own

To become and run with his wild

Words escape

Her lips

She watches them

Separate into misty bits of rainbow

Above them

Cascading blessings

On his body

Pronouncing love in tears

Flowing down the curved glass

Of the windows

Drifting down easy

Through the streets of the Haight.


LAS © 2018 All Rights Reserved  Reproduction in any form of all or any piece of this poem will be punishable to the full extent of the law.

Photo of rain courtesy of Pixabay

The Dream (or The Search for Family History)


the pages


piles on

a kitchen counter that’s long gone

2 stacks

mine before me

waiting to be bound

you on my right

nights of sorting through yellowed papers

moistened fingers peel back

the layers of pages

an infinite task

to find a lost soul

ready to take their place

in the line of history

that will be us

as the dream


patterns in sand

ripples in water

bouncing back

waking me


to accept the work at hand


©2018 Louise Ann Stowell All Rights Reserved

Photo courtesy of Pixabay



Through This Dark Earth




and I

will follow


my trust is


but this is

my truth

hurdling blindly

Learning as I fall

watching you

mapping new country

a bold change

courage in stepping

where comfort is

rare and chaos

is the coin of choice

Dear God

Lead Me

frightened as I am

that I may grow

struggling through this earth

a seed newly born

seeking the Son

that will nourish me

Copyright 8-19-2017 All Rights Reserved Including Angel Photo 2008 Copyright

Patterns (Lissa, Peggy, Karen, Stevie…)


Riding the full moon

I cannot sleep at night

3 am

and I am still



decades of it

and I have often wondered

whose dreams

I am walking through

wondering aloud

I have found

my best girlfriends

do the same

the patterns repeat

at the witching hour

we laugh at our


wonder what we’re up to

the joking conjecture

of stirring up storms

and secret romance

or perhaps

its just so simple

a case of insomnia

of five women aging

but secretly

something in our eyes

the hint of a smile

we know

as creatures of the tides

we hold the world in our hands

spinning the wheel

as life goes on

LAS  Copyright 2017  All Rights Reserved

Photo Courtesy of Pixabay







The connection

charge sparkled

between fingers

in their hair

layered on skin

the corona expanding

and he held his breath

eyes meeting

their first dance

the darkness


for the first time in years

she pressed closer

to hear the song of his heart

moving to the beat

of lifetimes

found again in each others arms

LAS  copyright 2017  All Rights Reserved

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

The Spell


No words


the smoke rises

she turns looking

at the only face

that has stayed with her

shining silver


changeless over ages

she tells the moon her dreams

her wishes

shadows wait



waiting to carry her love

on the wind

letters consumed

flames and wisps


and the ashes dance

lifting lightly

floating over the miles

settling light on a hand

lying in the darkness

lost in the warmth

of her dreams

swirling about him



washing his pain away

waking to the dark



thinking she was there

but the room holds

his breath alone

And she waits

as the waters mirror

that silvered face

framed by the mountains

knowing her secret

knowing her pain

shrouding her desires

as the gilt shadows

dissolve in darkness

to place a kiss

on a furrowed brow

resting restless

scented with cedar and pine

and the stirring incense

of a woman

burning bright on the shores

of a lake

miles away

stirring his heart to her

warming flames

and the moon touches the mountain

in a caress

both knowing

the moment is fleeting

but will

play over and over

in the eons of time

LAS copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved

Photo courtesy of Pixabay




I dreamt of coyote

last night

He came to me

through the opening

of a tight orange canyon

eye to eye

coyote was not laughing

and I knew this was bad

the visions came

A broken lance

“Snake Oil”

I stood on a rock in white deer skin

howling into falling snow

as horses ran

a painful lesson

of needing to

let go

LAS  copyright 2017  All Rights Reserved

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

Run Off

The snow is melting.

Riverlets run through

leaf mold and last years bent grasses,

making their way to the creek bed.

It seemed that winter’s heavy coat

would suffocate the world

in white,

encasing it in ice;

God’s world trapped in crystal.

Long nights of hushed quiet,

the snow lays in layers of days and weeks

and accumulation of dreams

and farmers hopes

to melt as time passes to Spring.

Warmth is seeding the minutes,

pushing life to the surface

for the Spring’s maiden to show her finery

of purples, emeralds, and golds.

With the blessing of water,

it will be a lush year.

LAS  2017 copyright   All Rights Reserved