Tag Archives: Sally Cook

Small Garden by Sally Cook

As New England Used To Be copy 4


Milkweed has risen up, alive and green

And shines in glow of red ball sunset’s rays.

Plump peaches hang from slender branches, seen

Against a patterned, darkened lily bed,

Maroon against bright emerald on the edge.

Wedging, straw flowers, purple, push on through

Amid a cloud of lemon primrose hedge.


A floating border spreads  and picks up red

To add some spice to this small sandwiched space.

Here everything pays homage to the fact

Of foliage—plump roses interface

With fruits, where Monarchs flourish and are fed.


For more from Sally Cook, and a bio, go here.

Painting by the poet: “As New England Used To Be.”


An Interlude by Sally Cook

























He was the stream and she the underbrush,

The rain that fell upon his upturned face.

She was the shadowed glade in evening’s hush

That, blotting out the sun, absorbed its grace.

She was the sea, and he the wavering shore—

The harvest moon that hung above her door.


A thousand stars crowded to hold one thought

When similes, comparisons were all

That she was left with after she was taught

That streams dry up, butt up against a wall

Where tangled roots are tripped upon in haste.

Sweet woodruff, poison ivy, interlaced.


For more from Sally Cook, and a bio, go here.

The painting, “White Garden, Emily Dickinson,” was created by the poet while a Wilbur Fellow in 1986.


A Rabbit And The Moon by Sally Cook

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Brief moments there, when planets held in sway

A sun, some stars, a rabbit on the lawn;

Lush leaves and seeds which flourished, then were gone

Leaving green, glowing scented scenes of day

To frame each moment worthy of this place

Where memory, like jewels kept in a box,

Or quick and furtive movements of a fox,

Seems fated to disintegrate in place.


For such an errant beauty cannot last

And dark delights will swallow it too soon.

Then thought intrudes on us, and we presume

A little twilight from the recent past

Means nothing—like a rabbit or the moon,

It can’t compare to chaos, wars and doom.




Sally Cook is a widely published poet and painter of Magic Realist paintings, particularly inspired by nature and its vagaries. A five-time nominee for a Pushcart award, in 2007 she was featured poet in The Raintown Review, and received several prizes and  honorable mentions in the World Order of Narrative and Formalist Poet’s Contest. An interview and e-book, Measured by Song, are available on-line. Her chapbook, Making Music, is available through Amazon.


Painting by the poet.