Welcome to my Poet Lady Chat Room. I would like to invite you to click on the chat box and type in a question, a suggestion, submit a poem, in other words – “chat with me.” I may, if you submit a poem, decide to feature it in my Poem of the Week section or, we may simply exchange ideas and suggestions about your poem.

This is a place to “talk” poetry with someone who has loved it all her life. I have a true passion for the possibilities of poetry and would love to hear your thoughts and/or read your poem. I will be happy to offer my reaction to your work and, based on over 40 years of teaching poetry, organizing, and conducting poetry workshops, working as a book review editor for an international poetry magazine, authoring five books of poetry and two textbooks on teaching poetry, send along my thoughts on ways to make your poem stronger and more impactful.

If you’re on my site, you have a connection to poetry. Feel free to connect with me – right here -right now, by typing your message into the “chat box” and clicking send. I’m waiting…


Your friend in poetry, Susan

Back to Poetry Talk...

I am a part of... (1 reply)

3 years ago

O' my heart: my precious;
I am part of the leaves emollient rustling,
Ebullient, I sift through the foraying meadows bustling.
I hold stern and plunge with the water where the ground bleeds,
Frolicking, I play with the fish nigh the reeds.
I do dance and prance through the eaves procacious,
Defiantly, do I scowl at the abyss with a breast loquacious.
I am a part of the pristine white on the frugal rock,
And the foliage that rebels undaunted, the frigid do they mock.
I swathe in the smell of petrichor by the sea,
I coddle the hatchling, cooped, persevering, with a glee.
I genuflect before the Titan land hovering with a just wreath,
And I bring the tide that crashes punctilious with its canines underneath.
Riding the Sundays that encroach the lifeless spectre,
I am part of the flora, reeling in it, which flaunts its nectar.
I scoot with the elated man who with love is beguiled,
And sigh endearingly, at the wronged soul who still smiled.
Do not seek me amidst the sepulchres of void,
I stumble, I amble, I am not there, I did not die.

Susan Katz
3 years ago
Susan Katz 3 years ago

I believe this is the same poem I commented on earlier.

Back to Poetry Talk...