Still recovering from surgery but mean to try and keep the creative juices flowing, the poetry coming. Additionally, the kindle/e-book version of my book is free until April 21st. Check it out if interested by clicking the link below.

Instagram: @ophelias.eyes

Pieces: an Anthology is on Sale at Amazon!



Mother’s gentle morning nudge

it was not, but my vision lifted

from medicated sleep to the tug of change.

I felt power in the cold wash of white light,

in the sound of my pulse,

in his hands manipulating my flesh like clay,

and I sought news from nameless eyes –

floating nameless eyes, their eyes

watching mine smile against arctic shivers

returning consciousness


adrienne ophelia
Instagram: @ophelias.eyes



I got nervous as they surrounded me.
Smiles of reassurance as they shepherd me into
Sweet sleep and shivering awakening. This day I dreamed for
longed for, hoped for when I am reborn and know wholeness
in the land of maple delights, and savory poutine, where self
was fully realized.

adrienne ophelia
Instagram: @ophelias.eyes


Resignation sowed deeply  in my brow.
Darkness mirrored darkness;
I had never been aware of the Ocean’s eyes –
Beckoning, and easing limbs like it were Novocain.
Its come hither gaze held promised power
To bring peace, end tumult bred by self-righteousness.

Salt water sprayed like moon shards,
And I breathed a yielding sigh.
I left my old life behind
Stepping off the cliff at River bay.
In the black brine my lungs ached,
My vision spun
But I didn’t seek an escape.
Surrendered to the roar,
To the upside down, round and round
Cacophony, and its bright lights.
There came peace, with it, stillness,
No more stones thrown my way but
Too soon was rest torn from me.
I burned from crown to painted toes.
My bones and nerves ablaze,
My pores steamed in a watery grave.
Entangled in moss, in plastic,
The corroding grime of human consumption
And dead sea turtles, I awakened
Thirsty for fear and life.

(Excerpt: reworking of a longer poem.)

adrienne ophelia
Instagram: @ophelias.eyes




I wait ’til your

adulations and adoration turns to salted ground.

You gave, then took your laurels back

and I expected it.

This instant game of gratification

with an eye on fame, on self,

on self,

on self and I,

isn’t one I’m interested in.

Feed me with ripe muse,

I’ll feed you with filling fruit,

and our gardens will flourish

side by side.

adrienne ophelia
Instagram: @ophelias.eyes