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Welcome to Garden 606 in

Click the links below to read the winning poems for June, 2006.

Poetry Gardens of Fame Index

First Place
Second Place
Third Place
Fourth Place


D. Wallace

Miss Wallace is a nomad-spirit who has lived in many places. Writing has been a constant companion for her on the adventures of her life set predominantly in landscapes of solitude. Words became wings which gave her mind the ability to fly within broader contexts and also taught her how to breathe in narrow places.

by D. Wallace

for Richard

For us there is only the trying.
The rest is not our business.
T.S. Eliot

"I expect a poem a week," said he,
demanding no less than alchemy.

Dare I weave gentle
invocations into pages white
summoning great caravans
of forgotten words
laden with the sweet scents of
memory's exile?
Indeed I might.
Small and large flocks
with luminous eyes
peer at me now, entangled
in the mesh of fibers
Have I power to melt the gilded cage
and set free to fly again
that which I have captured?

alchemy is an inexact art

I've only to try,
the rest is not my business.

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Summer Symphony
by Arlene L. Mandell

Duets of white butterflies
beat the hazy air

Choruses of crickets
tune diminutive violins

Rondos of robins
douse themselves in dust

Tympanies of birch leaves
glisten in sunlight

Crescendos of crows
streak across pale skies

Descending, the sun conducts
a golden finale

Then owl horns call
in the darkness

And fireflies f-l-i-c-k-e-r
their silent encore.

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Ghost House
by Lucy Elliott

Silent frame beneath the sky
stands alone rustic brown
where once I played
and sang of birds,
skies, and warm apple pies
while silent smoke
from her chimney rose
and walls and plaster
once lovingly held
voices, chatter,
laughter, love.
But all is gone
an empty shell
alone and old
below a fading sky
silent proud
still she stands
and echoes
long forgotten

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by Kaylesha Cooper

Surely I am not immoral,
My mouth is sometimes quick.
But am I not worth the rubies
That sometimes you said
have the tendency to make you sick?
Is it wrong to line my bed with scented oils?
Am I not worth faithfulness,
Even when I like to spoil
A good man.
I admit I am not perfect
and disappointments
may arise
Forgive me if I am not yet the perfect flawless non-existent wife.
I am working on my imperfections
but life is about compromise
Nothing happens overnight
Good habits are developed over time.
The glare of the rock is not my priority
I just know within my soul
Good women propel good men to reach their purpose in life indefinitely.

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