Faye Williams Jones
Faye Williams Jones, a retired school librarian, collaborates with her husband, Bob
Jones to create framed poetry and photography exhibits for museums, libraries, public
buildings, and literary events.  

Her poetry frequently wins awards and is published in anthologies and literary
journals.  Spinning Words into Gold: A Hands-On Guide to the Craft of Writing,
Sincerely Elvis, Cuivre River III, Grandmother Earth, Lucidity Poetry Magazine,
Art with Words, The Storyteller Magazine, and CARTI’s Perspective are some of the
titles including her work.

She presents poetry readings and workshops on parallel poetry.

Faye enjoys attending writing conferences, retreats and literary events.  Memberships
include National Federation of State Poetry Societies, Poets’ Roundtable of Arkansas,
River Market Poets, poetry societies in six states, and several local writing groups.

Since 1999 Faye has lived with cancer and treatments for cancer.  She feels the
creativity of poetry helps her quality of life.  Erasing People (Finishing Line, 2009), her
first chapbook of poetry, contains a selection of her cancer poems.  

Faye also writes award winning prose.  She paints, gardens, travels, and reads.    
a possum curled up and died
by the busy highway
at a familiar spot
I hold my breath
today  as in childhood—  
I walk alone
I will fear no evil . . .
When Passing the Possom
on the way to chemo today                                                    
I remembered banding hummingbirds                              
held captured birds playing possum                                   
lifeless—then released to frantic flight                                
pretending the band is not attached—                                   
acting as if the chemo does not flow                                     
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Backyard Secrets

Sycamore leaves in my flower beds
tell me someone’s backyard secret.
A sycamore tree does not mix and mingle
with front yard oaks, magnolias, and crepe myrtles.

If a tree hides in a backyard,
what other secrets grow among crabgrass, dandelions,
wood piles, and honeysuckle entwined
with privet hedge on a fence?

A formal garden mulched and weedless
no longer hosts an aging couple.
Roses bloom next to the same privacy fence
as tomatoes.

Rabbits hop from yard to yard
and dogs do not look up and bark.
Neighbors do not hang clothes to dry,
pick fruit from trees, and visit over fences.

I do not know who lives next door.
I will not share my backyard secrets
and pretend that neighbors do not whisper,
“The woman next door has no hair.”




Daffodil Festivals

The fragile ladies’ trembling fingers
pull sweaters close around shivering shoulders
in sunshine not yet warming the air
as they amble through daffodil fields.

Bulbs herald another year—
coronas and trumpets wave in gardens,
escape into ditches,
mark abandoned home sites.

Ageless delight—
harbingers of spring
welcome senior citizens
after winter’s confining coldness.



All Poetry © Copyright Faye Williams Jones.  All rights reserved.
snatched my words
pirouetted over azalea bushes
    whirled through wisteria

soared above treetops    

dove from the crabapple  
    billowed in the forsythia
veered around a tulip magnolia
whispered my secrets
caressed blossoms
  scattered fragrance

flew with mockingbirds

circled the camellia
   fluttered through irises
kissed the lavender
The wind laughed
danced a cadence I tried to follow
is too tall for neighbors’ cats to climb
waves new green leaves with powdery pollen
towers over smaller plants
spreads branches towards the house
litters the neighborhood with brown acorns
covers lawns with dead leaves
scratches at a window pane
the front yard oak
hosts robins’ nest with baby birds
cools the yard with evening breeze
shades the house from noonday sun
holds a swing for laughing children
welcomes squirrels to stash the nuts
mulches flower beds through the cold
survives the storm again today
2009 Creekwalker Poetry Prize Winner
Note: A parallel poem is read line by line (horizontally, left-to-right) and vertically as two parallel columns.  The
meaning may be the same, or it may be different.