Medicine Chest

Hand Painted Medicine Bottle






Medicine Chest

You are the medicine that soothes,
Using you like a drug,
Can’t stop taking,
Doesn’t get better,
Keeps needing more.

Won’t overdose, too careful about that,
Just enough to soothe, dull the pain.
Seems to be getting better, looking hopeful,
Then regresses, back to status quo.

Clearly an addict, and you are the fix,
Using you as a panacea.
You don’t realize it for a while.
Then, one day, you do.
You are their medicine chest.

They open you up, admire what they see,
Take you off the shelf,
Take what they need from you,
Hold you in the palm of their hand,
Swallow you up.
Put you back, close the door.
Shut you out.

Shut you out of their life,
Until they need another fix,
Until they need you again,
To confide in, to confer with,
To soothe, to make them feel better.

It becomes a vicious cycle,
Needed, then discarded,
Over and again,
Used up, like an empty medicine bottle.
Used up, tossed in the trash bin.

When your medicine no longer soothes,
A new drug will be found to replace you,
Will take your place on the shelf.
The cycle continues,
A new fix to soothe the addiction.

Lynn McHale June 6, 2017 Copyright All Rights Reserved Revised April 6, 2018

The Incomplete Heart



Original Artwork 

The incomplete heart,
Waits still for one dart,
Shot from Cupid’s bow,
Love, yet to bestow.

The incomplete heart,
Beats alone … apart.
Bleeds from past arrows,
Passage in … narrows.

The incomplete heart,
Alone from the start,
What remains, injured,
Love’s loss yet endured.

The incomplete heart,
Pierced by that one dart,
A most willing target,
Struck by love or regret.

The incomplete heart,
Longs so for new start,
Essentially empty,
Courts compatibility.

The incomplete heart,
Desires love, an art!
Craves a connection.

The complete heart,
Two halves once apart,
Joined as one, bound now.
It’s you, this I vow.

Lynn McHale 9/28/15
Revised 10/7/15, 4/11/16, 6/11/16, 2/3/17
Copyright All Rights Reserved




You appeared out of nowhere.
There, just one night.
Probing conversation,

You went away.
Stayed in my head.
Dimming memory,

You appeared out of nowhere, again.
Here to stay awhile.
Lingering this time,

Time, space, two souls entangle.
Cosmic blink of an eye.
For a second, we are us, now just you and me.
Universal impermanence!

Someday, can we walk once again in the footprints left behind?
Someday, can we break the dam holding back emotions?
Someday, can river of emotions flow smoothly over jagged edges

Left behind by other lovers’ good intentions?

Universal Impermanence

In a blink, the universe opens up,
Two souls searching for existence of love.
One finds tenderness, perspective, and ability to love again.
One finds warmth, tenderness and possibility to love again.
Both love … impermanence.

Lynn McHale 3/9/16 Copyright and All Rights Reserved



Melissa, the Marathon Runner




fundraising page is

Melissa is my Art Therapist and friend who is preparing to run in her first Chicago Marathon this Oct. and fundraising for The Light of the Heart: A Community Art Therapy Project, a non-profit 501c3 of which she is Executive Director and Co-founder,that provides art therapy and counseling for over 3,000 children and adults in Aurora, IL in need, and many are low-income and at-risk. This is her first marathon and I created poem and caricature using her Light of the Heart logo for her body in support of her endeavor. I wish her the Best of Luck. Visit her fundraising page at



Run Melissa –
Run because you can,
Run because it sparks a light within,
Run because it serves your heart,
As your heart serves others.
Heartfelt love runs the course.

Run the course, Melissa!
We see the light in your heart!
Melissa, Marathon runner –
Run around, through and over,
Heart pounds, cross the finish line!
See the light Melissa, the Light of the Heart!

Lynn McHale Feb. 16, 2016
Copyright and All Rights Reserved

My Mother’s Eyes


In memory of my Mother who passed away Oct. 6, 2011. Some days I still think I can pick up phone and call her. I love her and miss her.

In memory of my  Mother who passed away Oct. 6,2011. Some days I still think I can pick up the phone and talk with her. I still miss her and love her. 


When I look at myself in the mirror,
I see my Mother’s brown eyes staring back,
Knowing Death would be her last visitor.
I close my eyes, sad, my emotions crack.

I want to remember eyes with expression,
Not lifeless eyes devoid of sensory.
I offer no plausible explanation,
This sight forever haunts my memory.

In my eyes, our brown eyes are one.
She is dead, but lives in my mirror.
I long to see her, but Death won.
Each morning two pair of eyes appear.

Lynn McHale 6/1/13 Copyright All Rights Reserved

My Eyes

My Eyes

Note:  I spent my last time with my Mother four days before she died.  She was in hospice.  Her eyes looking back at me from her bed are permanently etched in my memory.

Lynn  McHale   6/1/13   Copyright   All Rights Reserved

Substance Abuse


Genuine gestures;
Affirmations of affection,
Heartfelt, romantic,
Natural, easy.

Warm expressions of tenderness,
Honest offerings of concern, interest,
Subtle signs of kindness,
Pure, earnest.

Hollow gestures;
Insincerities served with a smile,
Seasoned, said for quite a while,
Opportunities to beguile.

Sincerity feigned, faked,
Stop gap to plug relationship crack,
Emotional tides to hold back,
Love tepid, open to attack.

Empty gestures lacking substance,
Leaving both depleted, exhausted.
One desperate for authenticity,
One engaged in substance abuse.

Lynn McHale 4/10/14 Copyright All Rights Reserved