Lesley S. King

In this house everything is new. Nowhere do I see remnants of the past.   The bookshelf that once held legal dramas and murder mysteries, now holds only love poems.   And that stove, that brewed witches’ stews of boiled stink-eyes and simmering regrets, now, with its instant gas heat, cooks meals of choice manna. […]

Oh Cilantro, most benign of herbs, why do so many despise you?   Even Rosemary, with her piney sharpness, doesn’t endure such scorn.   And Thyme, with all his pungency, fields little grief.   Meanwhile Sage, exuding bitterness, rarely invokes a complaint.   And of course, everyone loves that Sweet Basil.   While your cousin […]

She stands with her back to the cliff edge camera poised arm’s length capturing the indigo sky and craggy canyon below.   She moves her head into the frame, poses just right eyes wide to disguise an intruding brow, daring smile to impress friends.   Tilting the camera to capture more she inches back and […]

My mate’s head, cheek and teeth sear with lightning pain. His voice grows pale, movements like taffy, a hunted look in his eyes. This man who lifts his loved ones off the ground in enthusiastic hugs now fragile as a dragonfly wing.   Immediately my mind kicks in—must help, must find a cure.   Ask […]

  The dog you rescued with a scar on her brow  wags her tail and looks up at you, dark eyes shining mouth curved in a little smile.   But that lonely road where you found her limping stays branded on her heart.   In a tough moment, as she huddles in the corner wrapped in […]

That hurt that stops you like a bear trap, metal teeth cutting to the bone is really but a raindrop on a hot rock. It sizzles and then evaporates.   But the mind tells the story of pain and blood, and a cold winter storm until the hurt becomes a bomb dropped on the city […]

Dear Readers, The time has come. My new book is available on Amazon. I invite you to click here in order to read the first chapter, or simply get a copy of the book. Here’s what it’s about: High on a New Mexico mesa top in a tiny mud hut, Lesley King, while on assignment […]

We stand like that tree with lovers’ hearts, buddys’ brands and lone travelers’ musings, incised long ago now distorted into burnt wounds.   Their original meaning is lost in the sap and bark of ages and yet ready in any moment to bleed across our Now, obscuring all truth.   Only the Beloved can turn […]

I hold Arjuna in my lap pry open her mouth. She jerks away and races around the house.   “I will not hurt you,” I plead. “It is just medicine to make you well so you can dance in life’s joy.”   So the Beloved whispers to me each day as that Power pries open […]

It seems its only job is to thwart me, that illness that shrivels my strength to a crinkly rose petal that neighbor whose threats break down doors into may past where I once huddled shivering that job that presses like a spring gale always wanting more.   But when I call on the Beloved I see. . […]