Quill Pen

Love poems will always be popular,

and I know why,

lifeblood of the soul, so rich,

needing the inspiration.

The tribes stir me and nature,

the words are there but hidden,

with a veil, a mist covering

my thoughts about


I look for light to burn

off the fog,

going deep for a spark,

looking around for beauty,

to ignite the heavens,

where is it?

soul crying out for words.



Poetry © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

The Art of Traditional Clothing – Mongolia

The Mongolian culture is rich with history. Storytellers can memorize thousands of lines. They are a deeply spiritual and beautiful people. Their traditional clothing is like no other. Notice their smiles!

Woman Archer
Woman Archer







Mongolian 4Mongolian 5

Playing Instrument
Playing Instrument






Speak to Me


Please don’t send me another email,

if you were calling from Indonesia

I would answer the phone.

If you were waving from across the street,

I would wave back,

and try to talk to you.

But sending me a message

when I am 5 feet away from you,

in the next cubicle,

is insane.


treat me like a human being,

and speak to me.

Poetry © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree




Life is knocking at her door,

smiling again,

shadows of chemo fading,

death was put away,

buried in an ancient civilization.

She beems,

it’s time for a vacation!


looking in the hotel mirror,

posing, taking selfies,

she radiates life.

Feeling pretty in her new dress.


Woman in Hat

© Poetry Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

The Run

Running at Night

The Run

Street lights piercing the darkness,

no sound except my heart pounding,

feet hitting the pavement, churning,

jogging, then sprinting around

the road that circles the campus,

Alone but strong,

I was 20, sleek and fast.


not exactly peace,

but I knew I was alive.

© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

The Trails

The Trails

The sun was dawning that frosty morning.

I needed the woods, and said a prayer,

putting on my coat, knit hat,

then out the door. Stomach in a knot,

I was 18, my family fighting

the night before, Mom breaking


Now quietly walking, the earth invited me,

seeing my breath,

and loving the air,

I entered the woods. Walking,

the huge oak, offering strength,


trees and I upright,

still standing, deep in the woods,

signs of deer,

pieces of my soul coming together,

especially down by the big rock,

next to the creek. I looked up,

and saw a hawk in the sky.

Watching over me, wings outstretched,

I thought, “What a great name that would be”

Hawk in the Sky.

I was restored, in the peace,

in the woods, along the trails.


© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

Your Love

Your Love

Your love has moved me squarely

towards the left,

when I hold you

your softness,

your beautiful brown skin,

teach me what is important,

that life is more –

than lowering taxes.

People matter,

so teach me more,

with your love.


© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree