Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

On Our Side of the Fence

On Our Side of the Fence


On our side of the fence,

We have no worries.

The elderly Pin Oaks

Sprawl their limbs like warm arms,

Making shade and silence.

Their wide berth absorbs the sounds

Of sirens and screams.

And brace us for wind.

We have our wood for winter,

And a garden plot.


On our side of the fence,

We have no worries.

We sip tea by the azaleas

And feed critters seeds.

The ivy is lush, but daffodils

Still find space.

The house is warmed as though

The sun were ours.

Our goods are sorted and stored;

The dishes, washed;

The children, fed;

The pies, baked;

The beds, made.


On our side of the fence,

We have no worries.

No wars,

No refugees,

No homeless.

No storms, floods, or fires.

Our creek is free of oil.

Our birds soar.

Our bounty is pure.


On our side of the fence.

We have no worries.

We have no fears.

We have no threats.

We have no eyes.

We have no eyes.


Copyright © 2018/01/20 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: digital art “Peace vs Chaos” ©Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog

Ekphrastic Poetry · Free Verse Revolution · My Screaming Twenties · Poem · Poetry



When I first found you,

I thought you were the real deal,

Handsome and of means.

Your mystery, promises

Of jewelry and charitable contributions,

Maybe even a luscious meal with fine wine.

Your credentials, superb at first glance.

How no one had found you before

Is beyond me, but there you were,

Out there where all could see

And in my grasp.

I felt blessed for my good works,

My generous nature, attracting value.

I kept you hidden, my treasure!

How I bragged about my new love!

Friends and family celebrated this bond –

No one had ever found such a prize

Just by chance! –

Until I discovered your true worth

Upon scrutiny as it unfolded!

Your heart, counterfeit;

Our love, a sham!

How duped I was by your smile.

Those eyes, your vivid presence;

Your charisma, regal!

Your sources, trusted!

Your history, infallible!

My dreams, blind, hopeful the treasure authentic.

Your fake demeanor,

A mere cheap costume, shatters me.

My fall from grace hits hard.

Cheap imitation,

Those eyes, mocking slits,

That smile, a sneer!

My love, a low and vile scoundrel in waiting

For an innocent soul.



Copyright© 2017/11/08; revised 2020/05/03Barbara Harris Leonhard                                     @extraordinarysunshine weaver.wordpress.com

Image: The fake 100-dollar bill printed by the United States of Halloween. I found this treasure folded up on grass along a pathway I was walking on and trying to clean up just to be a good citizen. I felt pretty excited and told everyone I had found 100 dollars! Well, upon closer examination of the bill, I found it was just paper. I was so disappointed and, of course, embarrassed that I hadn’t been more discerning in my excitement. The whole incident reminded me of love gone wrong out of in-authenticity.


Audio · Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry

The Space Between

The Space Between

The space between

Holds its form

When we touch, for

There is no touch, just

The space between,

Vacuous space,

Our molecules floating,

Suspended in God’s exhalation,

Expanding to hold our souls.

Our touch, an illusion of stars,

Cosmic molecules reaching through

Our heat, that Breath of

The Fire of First Light.

The space between,


Copyright© 2017/10/31 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: from The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo Buonarotti  http://www.italianrenaissance.org/michelangelo-creation-of-adam/