You are most welcome to enter my humble home.

Please come in and make yourself comfortable. 

I have many rooms here, in which you are cordially invited to visit.

I have so much to share. 

I believe you'll find the content is quite interesting.

I sincerely hope you have a splendid day!


I hear the chimes outside my nook
within a bough of green,
The sound, it is so dear to me,
and lovely as a dream.
They tell me that the wind is here,
and so close to my heart,
On the whispered breeze I fly,
and swiftly I do part.
Far away to another land I am,
and happy to be so
Off to the mystical village
where golden trumpets blow.
Delightful ringing of the bells
so fragile are the chimes,
They take me to the another world
and give to me the rhymes. . .

“The Prim Weeper”

Wisdom is crying in the lonely streets
desiring a listener . . .
She weeps in the crowd---No one hears
The vent of Wisdom sighs with golden tears.
She is anguished and abandoned,
She has tarried much too long-
Wisdom bears great treasure
to make the weak grow strong.
Who will give ear to this ancient voice
as she seeks to do her trust?
She is needed most urgently
Before ashes to ashes, and dust to dust.
Omnipotent, the core of sanity and reason
seeking desperately to feed and find
all the lost and empty souls
And to open the eyes of the shallow and blind.
The essence of her beauty will be felt
when she has taken her leave
Those who dismissed her poignant song
shall lament and bitterly grieve---
Wisdom weeps while humanity sleeps,
Awaken all, hearken and hear
Wisdom forgives with her golden ear. . . .


Awarded for “The Prim Weeper” February 2000

click on the graphic to see more of my awards

Love Minus Zero / No Limit


My love she speaks like silence,
Without ideals or violence,
She doesn't have to say she's faithful,
Yet she's true, like ice, like fire.
People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
*Valentines can't buy her*
In the dime stores and bus stations,
People talk of situations,
Read books, repeat quotations,
Draw conclusions on the wall.
Some speak of the future,
My love she speaks softly,
She knows there's no success like failure
And that failure's no success at all.
The cloak and dagger dangles,
Madams light the candles.
In ceremonies of the horsemen,
Even the pawn must hold a grudge.
Statues made of match sticks,
Crumble into one another,
My love winks, she does not bother,
She knows too much to argue or to judge.
The bridge at midnight trembles,
The country doctor rambles,
Bankers' nieces seek perfection,
Expecting all the gifts that wise men bring.
The wind howls like a hammer,
The night blows cold and rainy,
My love she's like some raven
At my window with a broken wing. . . .

Bob Dylan

Please Click Here For A Special Memorial



Please check back from time to time, I add new poetry and writings on a regular basis. May Peace and Happiness always be yours, and never lose the Faith. . . .

Thank you so much for stopping by... and if you'd like, you may sign one of my guest books before you go. I love hearing from my visitors.

All written material within this site is my sole original creation unless specified by quotation. 

All writings are Copyright Protected ©  2001 by Cathy Leming  

Please e-mail me for permission to borrow any material.

Graphics on this site were created specifically for Cathlyn Leming 

and may only be used  with permission by Laura Josselyn. 

Please mail her before borrowing anything.  Copyright Protected © 2001 by Laura Josselyn



Hit Counter