Wildflowers Amongst Ruins

Photo captured in England, 2018

Old ruins
Forgotten and unkempt
Discovered years later
Remembering the days
Preserving the magic
While gardens bloom all around

Let the wildflowers grow
Where there once were none
Let the magic be remembered
For all and for one


This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

Writer’s Block Strikes Again

Gather your jumbled up thoughts
jot down some fleeting words
numerous adjectives,
superlatives, and delicious nouns

Describe the scene
a setting to explain
it most certainly could be this
only it could be better

Conjure up a lost love
hint at a depth of longing,
desire, fulfillment, and regret
but give yourself some credit

Leave your readers with faith:
love eventually wins
love yourself enough to see
your words are what keeps them waiting

All I Need

All these years of
expectancy,
finding someone who
will give me all things I want,
all things I need

I beckon for someone
to give me music,
give me poetry,
give me love,
give me everything I need

But a voice inside cautions:
no one can love you like you need,
no one is all things true,
no one out there is all for you

Connecting so effortlessly
you give me words to hear,
music to fill the air,
books to read,
and pictures to see
Why can’t you be the one
to provide all things I want,
all things I need

I beckon again,
give me music
give me poetry
give me love

Still the voice carries on:
no one is all things true
no one out there is all for you…


This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

Getting to Know You

Getting lost in the deep blue
we simply forget everything else
this is our fantasy, our escape
but there is life outside these four walls

Our wants extend us to stay a little longer
we’ve been waiting for this day 
it’s too soon to walk away

I’d rather have my time 
with your body next to mine
I’d rather have my time 
getting to know each piece of you,
my partner in crime


This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

TPQ5 – The Poetry Question

The Poetry Question queried which 5 books have influenced me over the years. A bit of a challenge as I’m constantly reading, and in my younger years I read a lot of Allen Ginsberg, but these are the ones that have shaped me the most in who I am today. I hope you enjoy and would love to hear your thoughts on what book(s) have influenced you over the years.

TPQ5 with Kimberly Ray

Thanks for reading!

The Raging Heart

The very machine that gives life
could easily take mine away

The piercing from exhaustion
punctures my living, my breathing

Every bodily function is affected
as I reach my hand towards the pulsing and thumping
racing through my chest

I don’t want this to be how I end
I can’t let my kids see their mother this way
I hold on tight to life as my chest tightens

I sit,
I breathe,
and I let it pass

For this too shall pass

Moving Mountains One by One

Photo by Simon Matzinger on Pexels.com

I’ve tumbled through the rolling hills,
hiked to the snow-capped peaks,
stargazed in the desert with Joshua trees
and driven up the Pacific coast
to get a closer look
at that picturesque ocean
where locals claim anything goes

I’ve snorkeled through Atlantic waters,
crossed the longest bridges,
drifted through meandering rivers,
and flown over the deepest canyon ridges

I’ve traveled to many far-off lands,
pondered what exactly happened at Stonehenge,
unearthed layers of civilization,
held history in my fingertips
and seen everything there is to witness

Sunrise, sunset, and everything in between
but what my heart longs to see
is you, my love, with open arms standing in front of me
no amount of land would stand in our way
O, I’m moving mountains one by one just to see you again


Listen to more of my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

We Don’t Talk About That

Telepathically, your thoughts race over me
They strike during the early morning hours
It’s that time again
But we won’t talk about that now

We’ll say so much that will fit in
The space between the silence
But those days where we lit up the sky,
We won’t talk about that now

The fantasies creep in
Some days, or most days,
On what we’ve done behind locked doors
Bodies exposed, breathing close
But we don’t talk about that now

Not now, not even close…

We Are Gathered Here Together

In loving memory of my family…

My grandfather,
he ordered black coffee,
a soup and salad before his meal,
steak and potatoes,
and always leaving room for dessert
at buffets on the other side of town

A routine meal
to this day
is remembered
as my favorite meals with him

My Dad loved on his Alaskan crab legs
with a side of melted butter
While Mom ordered chicken
at a seafood restaurant
She never offered to pay
while Auntie told us,
‘Don’t take it for granted,
she should say ‘Thanks’’

A routine meal
that to this day
is remembered
as our family meals together

The holidays would arrive suddenly,
every holiday,
as our family rushed off to Sunday service.

Was this excursion a last minute decision?
Is the calendar right? Always arriving late,
we discreetly sneaked into the pews.
With a family of five, surely no one would notice.
But they did, they always notice.

A routine holiday
that would years later
be remembered
as our holidays together

Every year,
every holiday,
every birthday,
the same restaurants,
the same routine,
the same church service.

But at least we gathered
in the familiar ways we knew
what was to come.
We could count on those moments,
those familiar moments.

Now we look back
without the chance to relive
all those memories,
without the words of togetherness
without bickering
without reconciling
No more chasing each other around the yard
No more climbing up the tree, my favorite tree
All that is left are these memories
While isolating from our high-strung family

Now we pass the memories on
while making new ones;
new choices of restaurants,
holidays, vacations
and promises of not being late
(but who are we kidding, we’re always late)

And yet, some things will remain
I’ll keep the same dessert
in honor of my grandparents
whose struggles and sacrifices for our family
deserve to be rewarded
with a slice of warm apple pie

Drove To See You

I drove down to see you
stood in your doorway unannounced
you were there with another
I again felt like an outsider
I didn’t belong
after I wrote you at length
many love songs

My poems wrapped in a box
delivered but only to be forgotten
my heart still in shock
you were going away
never to be seen again
until the month of May
when I would fly thousands of miles
just to see that smile

But you called and shared the news;
you married her,
and had a baby on the way, too

That visit in May was not as planned
we were supposed to be walking the streets hand in hand
not with a mutual friend
not meeting your wife, breaking bread

But as you said,
as long as we’re alive
there’s a chance for magic in the air
well, my love, we shall see that magic again
once this heart has been repaired


Listen to more of my poems on SoundCloud