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Welcome to Garden 1001 in

Click the links below to read the winning poems for the week of October 1, 2004.

Poetry Gardens of Fame Index

First Place
Second Place
Third Place
Fourth Place


Ann McGovern

Maybe You Are Here

Maybe you are here after all.
Ask the Mexican sun, as constant as my love for you.

There is no calendar that marks your death.
You signed no contract for immortality.
Yet here in San Miguel, church bells
ring your name from dawn to deep night.

You are the courtyard treasures hiding behind carved doors, the lush
orange trees, the feathery fountains, the peace. Inch by inch I seek you
among the cobblestones, feel your skin on textured walls.

In this high place of steep hills and dry wind, my breath struggles,
never wanting any other air except that which you breathe.

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Gail Ellspermann


A blank canvas sits before me.
As I ponder where I will begin
I pause to wonder -
What it must be like to be completely blank
and anxiously await a creative hand

Each day is like that blank canvas
Will the day turn out blue and sad
or yellow and happy?
A confusion of colors and shapes
or sweetly calm and serene -

Unlike the canvas
which is at the mercy of the artist -
we have the power to make each day
a little better,
a little brighter.

Today is a blank canvas.
Pick up the paintbrush of kindness
Add the colors of joy
and delight in the possibilities
before you.

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Chelsea Rose


My friend
Covering me like a blanket
Encouraging snuggling
Quilt of safety

My salvation
Freeing my inner being
Inviting wild-woman
Mask of secrecy

My prayer
Erasing outer lights
Hiding tears and lies
Eyes of heaven

My blessing
Illuminating inner light
Glistening through our eyes
Bounty of Angels

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Emery L. Campbell

Good News, Bad News

Of mighty forces deemed eclectic,
the ones whose clout we most respect,
near topping all's high-tech electric;
can cause convulsions if unchecked.

Thus cables, toasters, plugs are shielded
to keep crisp current close at heel;
on flick of switch full power's wielded,
but do beware! Dire danger's real.

Belle Bluehair sits in coiffeur's chamber,
her dryer hums, then sudden flame!
Before her time, yet curtains claimed her;
was not her fault, a frying shame.

Great progress often comes with downers;
base, wretched dirty tricks abound.
I s'pose it's true. Well, hang the frowners;
just plug it in.but mind the ground!

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