This poem was written for the CEO of the company I work for. He was a big ASU football fan and when he retired, I wrote this for him.

In an age of blockbuster disaster movies, sometimes real tragedy seems unreal.

Watching the terrorist acts against our country, I flipped from channel to channel on my TV. This was our way of getting information. The more I saw, the more I wanted to deny that this could happen... that this was happening. This poem was written in an attempt to show that sometimes, we just can't comprehend the evil that men do.

Mental illness has long been a subject that's taboo for a lot of people. We don't admit to having it and we shy away from reading about it. But sometimes, it's right there in front of us.

This is the story of a girl, living in the closet of her mind.

Each year, our local newspaper runs stories about helping out the less fortunate during the holiday season. One year they asked for stories describing special acts of kindness. While not a story, I submitted this poem.

Each year, instead of Holiday Cards, I write a poem that reflects the year just ending. I print it on pretty paper and give them to my friends and coworkers.

This greeting was written in an especially hard year for me and my coworkers. Three lovely women were struck with illness; one died suddenly and the other two lingered and passed away just recently. Amid this, we were asked if we wanted to exchange gifts. No one wanted to and there was an excuse from everyone. Not enough money. I don't know what to get. All of these things were the inspiration for this poem.

Special Request Posted 1/24/99 - I am in a relationship with a man who is pretty recently divorced. I want him to know that he can count on me to be there for him, in every way that he may need. I want him to understand that he can trust and love freely, without worry about me leaving.

Thanks, Danalyn

I believe in love at first sight and wondered how to describe love at first touch. Especially for someone who was a cynic about love.

Inspiration for poems can be found anywhere. I listen closely to what people say - hoping for a phrase that speaks to me.

Some of us were reading a magazine and someone read the phrase: Don't just open your eyes. I began thinking that often we just open our eyes and fail to open our hearts and our souls. We tend to keep ourselves closed off from feelings, afraid to be hurt.

This poem was written as a cry from a woman afraid to open up to love.

Few would deny the inherent beauty of love. But love isn't always best described by starry eyes, red roses in Spring, and promises of forever. Sometimes, the best way to describe love is - not as a noun - but as a verb.

This poem was written to prove an erotic poem doesn't have to be pornographic.

Someone asked if I thought poets would get into Heaven sooner than anyone else, as they seem to be able to write about the human spirit. I hope it's true. I wrote this poem in response to that question.

Can a poet have the ear of God? Perhaps. Can a poet give solace in a poem? Yes! And I would like to think that God listens to each poem, and smiles.