4.MAKA-Earth Family


Chickasaw Earth Family


Acrylics and Watercolors


Quote:  We never had a thought of exchanging our land for any other…fearing the consequences may be similar to transplanting an old tree, which would wither and die away. –Levi Colbert (?-1834) a Native American of the Chickasaw; He was also called Itte-wamba Mingo, meaning bench chief. He had never thought that it would be very difficult for the Chickasaws to convert to the American ways.


Doubtful Heart…

The world stops, time stands still, the

Universe becomes a vacuum, the heart

Pounds.  Life is unkind; memories fill

Emptiness, emotions surface into an

Unyielding mind.

The search for happiness is a story untold,

Bearable by barricading heart and soul.

Seek a reason to unlock loves door, sealed

Shut so many years before.

Why does love come so easily to have people

Toss it away, for some, it never comes to stay.

The mind tells the one left behind that they will

Survive, love will come, and love will thrive.

The heart behind the wall is always trying to

Escape; waiting to be found.  The world stopped,

Time stood still, the universe becomes a vacuum

And the heart begins to pound.

Yet, if you can remember only one unforgettable

Time, sometimes love has no reason or rhyme.  The

Clouds part, familiar stirring begins; you tell yourself

To be patient doubtful heart.


Mother and Child…

3.ANNA-Mother and Child


Mother and Child

The likeness of this black and gray watercolor with sponge background is that of my granddaughter and her son.  My thought in this portrayal was that of a Native American mother and child, with emphasis on my Native American heritage in the Chickasaw Old-Towne Tribe in Eastern Mississippi.



Making yourself live without contact with

others, you are doomed.  Like the flowers of

summer without human contact, the soul

may cease to bloom.

Time and stillness may be an important need;

to reject sharing life with others, may be the

greatest form of greed.  Purpose has its seasons,

life follows a well-planned path; your journey has

a reason.

Clearing the mind and restoring the spirit will

smooth any rutted road; there is a plan of how

your life should unfold.  You may be on the right

path today; the journey may seem rough, the

essence and energy of your spirit will find the true


Gratefulness, awareness and God’s grace is woven

within the fabric of your being for a reason. Devote

today to discovering your true self create your own



E-Book with collection of poetry may be purchased at

Rubble of Yesterday…

Promises of the mind set aside in

the days of youth; visions stored

in a hopeful place to become dim

memories and fade away.

A glimpse into the window of twilight

time lays the tombstones of yesterday’s

promises; rubble covered with reminiscent


Embers burn within the soul, no peace

can one find; there are fewer tomorrows,

weep for the uncertainty of the future and

of dreams left behind.

If you could turn back time would you trust

your heart to relive your life.  Would you

accept the future whatever it may be, would

you disregard truth and trust what your eyes


Yesterday’s promises are hidden dreams, try to

find new excitement in your life, rid yourself

of turmoil and strife.

Wake up your conscious your journey is not yet

over, there are new mountains to climb, forget

the rubble of yesterday, use wisely your time.


Lost Little Girl…



Lost Little Girl

I do not know if you are alive or dead.

I see your face your voice never


The sun does not rise in the morning, nor

fade into the west without a thought of you. 

I mourn, nights are sleepless and morning

eyes fill with fire.

No one more cherished, more loved, my

heart bears scars of torture.  Where are you

my lost little girl?




Wings of Poetry…

Wings of Poetry


To a poet, writing is the blood that flows

Through the veins, words the sinew of

Their being, creating the movement of

The body, finishing uplifts the soul,

Failure not an option as the story must

Be told.

The lines may read of sadness, of stars

Hanging in the dark blue, shivering in the

Distance, creating against all resistance.

Waiting for the finished poem to float in

On butterfly wings, in perfection poetry sings.


The Dragonfly…


25. Pink Dragonfly 3 on Daisy

Behold her, flitting in and out of the prairie grass into the sunlight, then back into the shadows of the wildflowers.  Can you hear her whisper, Dragonfly is her name; she is one of God’s angels.  A voice lost in the silence of death, she lives far beyond the prairie grass, and she visits those who loved her to tell them that although the earthly body is gone…the soul and love last!

Behold Charlotte!