Melodies flood the air,
mountains sway, snow dances,
birds awake,
1,000 wings flutter to rhythms released to clouds,
a gentle rain falls upon natures skin. 
Rose leaf
From the room above her,
coffee brews,
a pleasant aroma hangs from the ceiling,
awakens words upon her flesh,
between weary and angry,
numb hands pray.
This poem is about Maria, a woman working 16hr shifts, dealing with a rising cost to live and stagnate wages.
I spoke with her and I asked her, “how do you do it, she said, I pray that I don’t feel my life.” Those words affected me and set the tone for this poem.
http://spillwords.com/rose-leaf/
Featured on “spillwords.com” 
Superman
That moment when you thinks a 4yr old has the answer.
He loves superheroes, and when he’s older that’s what he wants to be.
I saw him sitting there on the step, and I asked him, “what are you thinking about? You look like you’re in deep thought.”
He said to me, “I am in deep thought. I think the problem is, superman has no where to change his clothes, there’s no phone places(booths)left. That’s the problem, there’s no phone booths left so superman can change his clothes.”
I said to him, “maybe you’re right and simply, he said, I think that’s the problem Beth.”
This is a personal share. Put a smile on my face and I hope you enjoy this piece has much as I enjoyed the conversation with a 4 yr old named zack. 
On a cloud
Here my poetry lay,
on a cloud,
like a light morning mist,
rhythms fall upon your skin.
Bones of the moon
This poem within,
weary and tired of aching,
I will speak riddles of you,
into the night,
words of dust,
carried on the wings of a raven,
to the moon,
find a place,
bones of the moon ache,
but
dawn will come,
riddles will fall
like a morning mist,
poetry returns
to my bones, their original home.
Interview
For the month of July, I was voted author of the month. This an interview that followed. To anyone who reads this, thank you in advance. “Spillwords.com”
Voice like ash
Numb hands pray,
voice like ash,
blows through the heavens,
fall upon an angel, bare this sorrow with me.
A single rose leaf begins to burst through stone.
Photo credit, world through my eyes. Fb
Naked eye
From a naked eye
tears fall
upon stone
stories left
Whispers through rain
“Through whispers of rain, verses fall.”
Through whispers of rain,
verses fall upon the ground,
choruses sung,
thunder the melody by which the sole moves.
Still word
You are a still word, bows to greet me.
I will move with the quite of a word and see its world. 
beth tremaglio 