There’s An Empty Bench


There’s an old empty bench some place,                                                                                        Beckoning for someone to sit.                                                                                                                                                                                        I think it quite a lonely wish,                                                                                                     Longing, for something to use it.


Near Lovers Point

It overlooks an ocean                                                                                                                     Or is nestled in the trees.                                                                                                              It’s a place of memories,                                                                                                        Where you can listen to the breeze.


Waters Of The Monterey Bay

Some days I just pass by it,                                                                                                  Although it calls my name,                                                                                                     While other times I am compelled,                                                                                               To sit, I can’t explain.


My Favorite Colors

It isn’t immensely pretty,                                                                                                               But surely holds fast and true.                                                                                                This bench in the middle of nowhere,                                                                                    Was placed there for me and you.

© Bonnie L DiMichele 2018                                                                                                                   I traveled to Monterey last weekend and took a walk from Cannery Row to Pacific Grove. I had to set my camera down at one point to just look, listen, and marvel at the gorgeous places we share in California. I know this state isn’t perfect, but on any given day, it sure can seem that way.

Tower Bridge


Just over a week ago, we were fortunate enough to be asked to attend the Tower Bridge Dinner, that takes place on the bridge that spans the Sacramento River, in Sacramento. I never thought I’d get to go to this event. The tickets are very hard to come by and sell out immediately. When we got the call, we dropped everything else we were doing and said, “Yes!” It was a Farm to Fork event and the weather, people, and sunset couldn’t have been better. The photo doesn’t do it justice as it was taken with a phone but I hope you can see the magnitude of the event and get a feel for the good time that was being had by everyone.


What a difference a week makes. The tragedy in Las Vegas is now weighing on all our minds. I can’t make sense of it. It makes me force myself to listen to my own words. My poem, Daffodil Spring, has a final stanza that goes like this:                     So I give to my children                                                                                                         Advice through their years,                                                                                                   “Look for life’s colors,                                                                                                                 Lest you drown in life’s tears.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  I leave you with that thought, and this photo, taken last weekend in the Sierra’s. What an explosive sight, this weed going to seed, gives off. So try to remember that the world, though it may be cruel, is also a magnificent place.

In The Streets of Lyon


I recently went to France and stayed in Lyon as my last stop. It is a beautiful city and is the third largest city in France. I did not realize that walking about the city might lead me into neighborhoods that were not friendly to people who were not of their same religious beliefs. (I do think there should be an app for that, by the way.)


Stunning City Art

I am a firm believer in not talking about religion, politics, or weight. With that being said, I was so filled with the evil feeling that I received, I decided to write a poem about my experience. (That’s how I attempt to settle things in my mind.) I’m going to share the opening and closing stanzas with you. There are eighteen stanzas in-between as the opening and the closing stanzas are mirror images of each other.


Swans on the Rhone River

I walked the streets                                                                                                                          Of grand Lyon                                                                                                                                    In a place,   I,                                                                                                                                Should not have gone,      

The evil that                                                                                                                                          I found that day                                                                                                                                 Is not a thing                                                                                                                                     To wash away                        

This sleeping world                                                                                                                    Needs to awake,                                                                                                                                To realize                                                                                                                                      What is at stake

If you would like the other eighteen stanza’s you can make a request at and I will be happy to supply the entire poem for you. I am putting this out today because, as much as I tried to resolve what I felt that day by writing this poem, those feelings are still very much with me. I just can’t seem to shake them. So the moral to this blog is perhaps, as we age, we should try to stay on the main streets (when in a foreign place) as we are traveling through life.


Autumn Sky


I was  going through a few things the other day and came upon this poem that I had forgotten about. It seems to fit the seasonal change we see here in California.


Last Sierra Leaf



Autumn Sky

Today bright colors floating by
In a warm and Autumn falling sky
Are unlike ones, I’ve known before
Which makes me think and question more

I’ve thought a lot in recent times
I’ve wondered why Fall leaves behind
Those boisterous colors that I find
To stay within my seasoned mind

So this untimely Fall puree
Is not unlike a Spring filled day
The colors vibrant to the eye
Bring hope Spring’s season will arrive

Yet still I stand and wonder here
How soon our Springtime will appear
Will it be soon or far away
Or come within a Winters day?

And once it’s here; will it be gone
Or run into a Summers song?
I will soon miss, in Winter’s hue,
Those lovely colors that I knew

© 2007 Bonnie DiMichele



Napa Lane


Gone But Not Forgotten


A few years ago I traveled to Stony Creek Connecticut with the hope that I would view the old granite quarry lily pond that my grandmother had hoped to see one last time when she made her final journey to her hometown.  She did not take photos of it, so I must presume, given the time of year, that she was not lucky enough to stop and marvel in its beauty once again. 


Saw Mill Granite Lily Pond

I had envisioned that the entire pond would be filled with water lilies.  There were many, but not as many as my imagination had conjured up.  There were thousands of lily pads that appeared to be a delicious meal for some sort of hungry bug.


Single Lilies with Thousands of Pads

The surrounding buildings are as beautiful as the lilies are on the pond.


Pond Reflection on Stained Glass

A couple of years ago we went to stay at an old inn at the end of Linden Point Rd.  I wrote a poem about the place and it is on page 65 in my new book “In Memory Of…”  Little did I know how true the poem would become.  I will share just a bit of it below this next photo.  You can see to the left that the inn is no longer there.  The people across this inlet bought the property and tore down the old house/inn.  They wanted a less obstructed view.  They took the two pine trees down as well but left the granite stone that had been used by the indians to grind grain.  (It’s all in the poem.)


Once There Was An Inn & Then There Was None

This place where I am sitting

Comes to fill me with delight

I know some day it will vanish

Erased from memory, and from sight

Is there a place that you remember that may have vanished from this earth?  Do you wish that you could view it one last time?  Maybe it’s a good time to go and discover if your memories still exist in that place.

Back Stories part 2 “In Memory Of…”


Perfect Peony

Friends Parted: I think a friend moving away is just about one of the hardest things in life. My dear friend moved back to the UK with her family. Although we have all of the latest technology at our fingertips, we found very soon that it was not at all the same as having weekly lunches together. Directly after the move, I found I would think of her many times each day. Thoughts of her would come anytime, anyplace, and I’d want to share a glance or tell her something that I had just heard. I am still sad that she is gone. Directly after she moved away, I found that I was having to force myself to, “look for life’s colors.” Looking for life’s colors, and realizing they are everywhere, always cheers me up.

Peaceful Place: This was written for my friend who moved to the UK. As I wrote this, her father was dying of cancer. I hoped that she would come to realize the peaceful acceptance her father would come to terms with, in the last days of his life. I hoped also that she would come to accept that peacefulness, and the reality of its existence. Losing a parent is extremely difficult, and I knew that she still had much to experience during this time. She needed to depend on her friends and their willingness and desire to help. They could be there to ease her through a time they knew would be difficult for her. You may feel the need to distance yourself while going through times of grief, but friendships are a wonderful support in such stress filled times.

Ebb & Flow: I thought that I was done with poem writing for my friend when the telephone rang one day. It was my friend from the UK on the other end. I knew by the sound of her voice that something was wrong. She told me that her father had passed away. We knew it was coming but a turn of events had hastened it along. I think when she phoned, she was in a state of shock. I felt very far away from her and wished that I could hop on a plane to be with her. I could not do this and so I sat to write this last poem with the hope that it would help to console her. I could only pray that it would bring her the comfort that I was geographically unable to show her. When we have a sudden change in our lives, we often feel alone. I believe that our friends and family feel our pain and inwardly grieve with us. It can be quite calming to tap into these people who desperately want to help us. Friends and family can and will support you.

A Breath In Time: Our longtime family friend suffered with a very long illness. He had definite wishes that he wanted us to help fulfill. We clearly knew what his wishes were but his spouse just couldn’t come to terms with him dying. I wrote this about him so he would know that we had tried to help her understand his wishes. She needed time to realize that she could let him go and she also needed time to help her cope with losing him. They had been everything to each other. They were best friends. We were there for him but we were there too, for her. Though it seemed like she needed a long time, it was also but a breath in time.

Firsts: When you take a baby home, you seldom think about ever being without that child. There comes a day when they pull away to chart their own adventures in life. It is the natural cycle of life for them to do that. Understanding this doesn’t necessarily make it easier, as a parent, to let go. We found this to be true when giving away our daughter. It was a very big change for us and it did give us a great feeling of loss. It’s many years later and we have amazing grandchildren. Looking back, we still feel a sense of loss because we still remember holding her hand, giving her a kiss, and all of her firsts with us, each and every time we have those moments with those equally amazing grandchildren.

Intertwined: A friend of mine lost her son in an accident. I could see how very deeply this touched her. As I sat in the service, I could see that he had a joy that showed each time he smiled. I know that looking for and finding joy is a very difficult thing to do, after someone you love has suddenly passed away. We are ill-equipped to handle these things in our lives. They were very close and I do believe that he would want her to find her smile and have happiness in life. She does cradle the most wonderful memories of him.

Johnny Curry: My youngest son went off to college and had just gotten himself settled into his dorm room when we met this extraordinary young man who was going to be rooming across the hall. He held out his hand, introduced himself, and gave us the biggest, broadest smile that I had ever seen. It was like he wanted us to remember his name. I surely did. I thought my son was quite lucky to be across the hall from him, and he played guitar, even better. What I didn’t know, the first time I met him, was that he had an aggressive form of brain cancer. What an amazing family he had, to allow him to go off to college with such an illness. They were letting him lead his life. I listened to his songs and took away the message that he was trying to send. He was an amazing person. I feel so fortunate to have had the opportunity to have met him.

Garden of Time: I have a friend who was about to have surgery that was very risky. She is an avid gardener and I thought it appropriate to write her a poem that depicted her love of her garden. She came through the surgery very well and with that, we do have more time to spend in her garden. Time is something that you can never make more of. It is so important to spend time in a wise manner. We often don’t think about it while we are moving through our day, but time, once it’s gone, does just slip away.

Thoughtless: As our children grew, we volunteered in many of their activities. Through those activities we have met a lot of people. We’ve gotten to know some better than others because our paths have often crossed. I have been teaching piano for many years and some of those people that we have met have had their children take piano from me. We were out hiking in the Sierra’s, this particular Fall, when our friend suddenly passed away. My heart was very heavy for his young adult children. I knew them better than most because they had taken piano from me. I knew, though, that they had this love of music and that could help to heal them each and every day going forward. When you have times in your life that are difficult, try to find some soothing music that doesn’t have lyrics. Look for music that sounds good to you, that you may have never heard before. Music can help heal your soul.

If: I wrote this poem for my father’s eulogy. That’s something you never think you’ll need to worry about doing while you’re a child. I wrote this while on a plane. I wrote it about the place that I thought he liked better than anyplace else that he had ever lived, Santa Cruz, CA. He taught me lessons that he didn’t know he was teaching me and I am thankful for those lessons. He gave us all he had to give.

Our Dearest Mother……..: My mother-in-law had eight children. She was nurturing and showed her children kindness, patience, truth, and vigilance. All those things that we associate mothers doing for us. She loved her children, her garden, and her many grandchildren also. That is why I likened her poem to her children, their children, and the garden. We can learn much from individuals like her. I know that I certainly watched and have implemented some of her ways with my own children and grandchildren. She did plant the seeds of kindness and nurturing in all of us, young and old.

Imprints: My grandmother was a woman who I thought was very strong. I went in search of her hometown once I got older. I felt that there were many things that I did not know about her and I felt a bit of a loss that I hadn’t known her better. One of those things that I had failed to notice was that there was a child who lived within her heart. I also had not noticed that it was from her weaknesses that she found her strength. Her hometown of Stony Creek, Connecticut is the kind of place you might not ever want to leave. She went back when she was older to renew her memories of the place. I went there too, and now have wonderful memories of my own.

Oceans Blue: When writing about my mother, I don’t know where to begin. I think we all feel a bit that way about our mothers. Mine did everything in her power to go to heaven. She did embrace everyone and she wanted everyone in heaven with her. I can’t remember her ever saying unkind words to others. She always was preparing for the next day. She taught me a lot about who I wanted to become. I wanted to be there for her and she was very thankful for that. She thanked everybody for any little thing that they might ever do for her. She was one of a kind, that mom of mine.

Sixteen Years: I had a former piano student who passed away in an automobile accident. It was very unexpected. When something like this happens, it shocks your system. You try to make some sort of sense from what has just happened. It is impossible for me to tell you how horrible I felt for his family. I sat down to hopefully write a poem that might help them. Images of him and his family just poured through my mind. These words just flowed to the page. The rhythm of it, like a song. Those same images still fill my mind today, not unlike reflected images in two mirrors. They seem never-ending. He was so full of life and laughter. I pray his family can find their way together, to share life and laughter once again.

Life’s Wrinkles: I wanted to end this book with a lighter poem that I had been thinking about writing for a very long time. For as long as I can remember, when I haven’t seen someone for a long while, I have wanted to cup that person’s face and draw my thumbs across their cheeks to smooth their wrinkles out. A peculiar thing about myself, I know. As we grow older, we can change so much that we don’t look like ourselves anymore. With that being said, our wrinkles tell so much about us. Some people acquire more wrinkles when they smile. I like these wrinkles because it tells me that they have spent much of their lifetime, happy. What a joyous way to travel through life. Other people seem to have a permanent frown etched in their face. Then it seems like that look has just been set in stone as they found little to smile about. When I was very young, I knew a woman who had the most beautiful crows-feet when she smiled. I thought they made her face light up. She didn’t like them. I loved them and thought I would like to have crows-feet one day myself. I have been thinking about wrinkles for a very long time. I can put them to rest now as I’ve written about them, they are in their place, and I can revisit them any time I like. Poetry or the act of writing and saving your work can do that for you too.

My new book is called “In Memory Of…” and can be found at Author House,, or purchased through Barnes and Noble (Print on Demand). There is a colorful e-book version as well. You can get a signed, hard cover copy by writing me at I wrote it with the idea that it would make a nice gift for family or friends when they were going through a time of grief. It is something a bit more personal than a sympathy card. This is by-far the longest blog I have ever written and I apologize for that. This blog puts true meaning to those poems I have written. I hope you look for my book.

Petals In The Wind


Out in my backyard today

Is a swirling raucous wind


Flowering Salmon Quince

So those petals, young and blossoming

Become suddenly strewn in the spin




Magnolia Soulangeana Blossoms

I’m so glad I caught images yesterday

For today, they are gone from sight


Resting Mourning Cloak Butterfly

As the storm will soon come thundering

Unleashing with all it’s might 



Yellow Acacia In Bloom

Each West Winter is bound to repeat this pattern

Yet the flowers return here anew

Brightening up my landscape

Coloring my every view


Bonnie L DiMichele 2/2016

Storm Set colors


I recently drove from Southern California to Northern California through some road conditions that were less then wonderful.  As I was driving there was an amazing sunset but I didn’t want to stop to take a photo because of the road conditions.  I wrote the following poem to help my mind remember the colors that I saw.  I hope you can visualize them too.

Storm Clouds

Storm Clouds

Storm Set Colors

This sunset that surrounds me
I haven’t a photo for
I’m driving North through cold slushy rain
But it’s colors, I adore

Bright bubble gum pink and glaucous gray clouds
Form a nimbus line to the East of me
Atomic tangerine with black cumulus legs
Hang eerily as far as I can see

Ochre grays and rusty coppers
Linger throughout the clouds
They push their way around me
Then they drop, rain pounds, out loud

A tiny patch of light blue sky
Glows off in the distant West
Illuminated rolling green pistachio hills
Front snow sprinkled mountain caps

I push on through the misting,
Through the downpours, and endless showers
Remembering the colors
The soft, bright, and wickedly gloomy,

2/2016  Bonnie L DiMichele

Counting Clouds


We certainly have had some amazing cloud cover recently.  Last weekend we went to the Suisun Valley to listen to a friend play with his band.  The day was so nice and the clouds were promising rain.

Cumulus Clouds

Cumulus Clouds

The colors in the valley were amazing and I was sure that the dark clouds were coming our way.

Illuminated Valley Hill

Illuminated Valley Hill

We could see the lightning and hear the thunder, our rainfall was about six and a half drops.  They were tiny drops too.  I know it’s coming someday.  I just wished it was that day.

Turning Vines

Turning Vines

I shouldn’t forget that, once it rains, I won’t be seeing such beauty about me.  It will be grey, wet, and cold and I will be hoping for views like this again with the promise of rain off in the distance.

Sun Setting Behind the Ridge

Sun Setting Behind the Ridge

The gathering of clouds

I could not ignore

As I stood in the sun

On this valley floor

Soon the hills rumbled

With thunderous cries

As lightning threw sparks

And lit up the skies

I stood still in sunshine

Wishing the rain

Would fall in this place

But my wish was in-vain

© Bonnie DiMichele 2015

Why aren’t we just happy with what we get?

Forget Me Not


Last week I had a lovely time in Golden Gate Park with my family.  It was breezy and overcast but it didn’t dampen our spirits while we shared a picnic together.  It is times like those, that I want to hold in my mind and never forget.  

Sierra Forget Me Nots

Sierra Forget Me Nots

With that thought in mind, I think it is about time to share a poem that I wrote in 1989.  It is ageless, as are my memories, and was inspired by a phone call from an old friend.

You Called Today

My dear old friend

You called today

You did not know why

Or what you would say

I’m so glad you did

I’ve missed you so

I wish I were there

Watching you grow

Instead of sharing

Times from our past

We’d create new memories

Ones that would last

Our lives are so separate

Yet in their own way

We share like moments

And movements each day

I think of you often

And other friends too

I wonder if they share

The memories I do

I look back now on the

Good times we had

They warm my soul

They make me so glad

And so I know

As our years pass

Those memories created

Will surely last

© Bonnie DiMichele 6/5/1989

Poppy from Mendicino

Poppy from Mendocino

Every time I look at these flowers in my yard, they bring me memories of the Mendocino Coast.

Poppy in Golden Gate Rose Garden

Poppy in Golden Gate Rose Garden

Poppy from our day in the park; another special memory.

Stop at Marin Headlands Look back at San Francisco

Stop at Marin Headlands
Look back at San Francisco

These photos are worth a thousand words.  What I like most about them, is the way they flood me with wonderful memories.  If you’ve been thinking about someone a lot, why don’t you give them a call?  (Didn’t PacBell have a slogan? “reach out and touch someone”)  We all know people who, when you see each-other or talk on the phone, it seems as though no time has passed between you.  Those are the people this poem was written for, so if you are a friend or former classmate, this poem’s for you.  You’ve given me lovely memories that I truly cherish.