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Words and Pictures

A society of poets on the web recently featured my work, and invited their readers to write poetry in response. You can read more of their work on their site (although they have since relaunched at a different URL – Dverse Poet’s Pub)

Here are some beautiful poems that have been written about my paintings. Sculpting words is such a profound artform, that reaches into our soul.


Rainbow shines

Through her radiant soul

Song of joys

Sorrows pain

Colors of desire and hope

Tomorrows promise

by Knighsheart


they play hide & seek
making me search

(wish i had an abacus
to count with)

i order them
in my head

(giving them constellation names,
cementing their positions to memory)

but if forgotten
we’ll start again

(as if there really is
an end)

with each sun kiss
adding more freckles

(to be known)


by Brian Miller


She is one of a kind
Her two eyes I barely see
Staring at her like a 3D screen
For her, I would gladly goes on four
Lapping her five beautiful fingers
Like six horny dogs on heat
My stop is the seventh one
But her figure eight got me transfixed
Now the train is passed the ninth
But in my book, she is ten out of ten.


by Okoatokewa



Artwork of Alison Jardine (Duality)


Softly, softly, softly
I love to live my love
without waves which toss and spin
but, create such cosmic ripples
that grow in ever increasing circles
around anothers heart, with light-strings
to pull them safe and willing
into mine.

Halfway to Heaven
yet all the steps remain
and still so far to go.

and turn
and turn again

No aspect stays the same

Arid petals fell from the
roses of hope she carried
lost in ever cooling waters

Sometimes we are the child in fear

When guiding lights obscured
by fearful clouds of doubt
and, no peace can be found
in the place that it was

I wonder if we are all

Waiting for God.


by Daydreamer Too

© Daydreamer Too – *All rights reserved


A Fundamental Constant


Run at the speed of me
rocket from big bang birth
dash as atoms toddle
sprint as molecules mingle
flee immature star formations
bound beyond melancholy black holes
waver to gravity’s alluring curves
though no time tick tocks
to pierce your atmosphere
to blast your unbarred eyes
to reflect myself
at the speed of me.

by Matt Coughlin


‘Alfresco’ painted by Alison Jardine

Between the water and the sky,
lies all of nature wondrous wild –
the bird that skyward tries to fly,
while heaven kissed the flower child.
Love’s endless minutes roll on by,
the morning sun shone bright and smiled,
not quite a waking truth, a dream,
this silence blessed down by the stream.

The sea is deep, the moon is blind,
as fairies wake you with a kiss,
sapphire mysteries for you to find,
amethyst stones, forbidden bliss.
A stream of light shines from behind,
your choice to live, what life is this.
Exquisite magic, tastes of wine,
whispered secrets, our limbs entwine.

by Louise



Lost in the Woods
and clamor
running through the black boles of elm;
there’s no green at night
no light
only noise to see by.
I played with
the crazy ones
the blue and tatooed ones,
the ones I couldn’t keep
so deep
in the woods.
I thought
I was a wild thing
smelling blood and water
coming to me on the air
my hair
tangled with promises of nettle.
But I was already
tamed, a fallow patch
danced bare
out where
music’s ghost hunts the ear.
And when they
left me
in the clearing
under the masked moon
too soon
I saw the cage.

by Verse Escape


Diana, Moon Goddess
rises among the stark branches
aspen grove

She plays and peeks
her white gown brushes

Soon she will swirl until
she reaches the apex
of her existence

For now she dances
like lightning bugs
softening the newly night sky


by Cyn Bagley



through the night
i saw you standing,

on the edge of a dream,
bent lonely into a house,
not your own while

stars kept shining
as if nothing
had you hold

your breath,

as if nothing
made you melt

with what seemed natural
to all of us
and yet it wasn’t,

as i watch,
your dream bends slowly
into me,

susurrated by a voice
i never heard before

and the tissues of dawn
keep falling

with us


by Claudia Schoenfield


Sometimes, after I’ve
bled out a poem,
I feel like
an autumn leaf,
dried, used up, but
captured in mid-fall
by an Impressionist
with a brush-full
of burnt sienna.
A fuzzily focused product
of squint-eyed genius,
forever falling,
but in eternal stasis
on your page.


{ 7 comments… add one }
  • Louise October 7, 2011, 9:40 am

    A beautiful collection of words to your wonderful art work. I feel blown away & honoured to be included. Thank you so much.

  • Joseph Hesch October 7, 2011, 2:46 pm

    Wow, thanks for including my poem among this group of some of my favorite poets and friends.

    When I saw your Through Fall Leaves image, I was immediately inspired. And not necessarily to write a poem. Made me feel something good just looking at it.

    Thanks for this honor, Alison! — Joe Hesch

  • Alison October 8, 2011, 3:46 am

    Thanks Joseph – and thanks for your beautiful poem 🙂

  • Alison October 8, 2011, 3:46 am

    The honor is mine Louise 🙂 Thanks you!

  • brian October 8, 2011, 2:56 pm

    woot! great to revisit these alison! thank you for recognizing some of the amazing talent at dverse…that play off your amazing talent as well!

  • Claudia Schönfeld October 8, 2011, 7:40 pm

    so awesome to read them again…was an honor, having you over at One Stop with your fantastic artwork Alison – thanks again!

  • hedgewitch October 9, 2011, 2:46 am

    I remember being so impressed with your work at the time the feature was done–I went through many examples, all of which would have been interesting to write to–fun to see again all the pictures and the responses. Thanks so much for including mine
    ~hedgewitch (of Verse Escape)

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