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The Red Queen in her crown. YA and adult poetry. #WhirlingIntoFlame now available. I preserve moments in the glistening amber of language.

A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by Clément ROY on Unsplash

Waking the Lion

I’m a brilliant thing,

but he set free the lioness.

Finger to finger, making me his.

Now I am 2.0 on the hunt.

I tried to stamp her out.

But I’m caught deep in her -

this cat breathing heavily in the entryway.

Sweltering in the heat and licking her lips.

She is me, and I am her in heightened everything.

These words that rush through me

faster than I can write them.

Our breath exerting some life-affirming elixir.

I think of him at my desk.

Further down, my darling.

I…


A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash

Leaves on a Stream

Oh brave, fierce warrior -

the curtains flutter out

in the Dark Ages of my room.

You make me wild.

Once they believed in Camelot.

The legend of King Arthur.

Enchantresses who taught courtly love.

Dutiful love.

For handsome rewards in return.

Pleasure beyond one’s wildest dreams.

And I can believe it, too,

as I move about.

Sensual and fluid as a jellyfish

in my inner enchantress.

My soft and open vulnerable heart

like an orange tabby kitten

purring its gentle beat.

A song within my supple breast.

I am…


A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by Kathy Servian on Unsplash

Cocoon

It is a strange place, this doll house

where the ping-pong ball of silence

ricochets from wall-to-wall.

I am the girl full of talk,

screaming at an unknown entity

to “listen, listen!” on a summer evening.

But the rooms are like people.

Neither can be coaxed to hear or speak.

There is a boy wrapped around my heart.

Nestled in the hope that grows there like ivy

where debris and fear had long resided.

He takes a machete to the overgrowth of silence

to unearth the butterflies cocooned within me,

and count them.


A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

“The Nine Muses — Calliope — The Muse of Epic Poetry” by Paul Vincenti

Goddess in the Doorway

I am the goddess in the doorway.

I am the air you need to breathe.

I am the lady in white

who wears red at night.

I am the queen of heart dreams

asleep and awake.

I am the bearer of restful slumber

long overdue.

A fantasy leapt from the page of a past life.

My secrets abound but must be earned.

I am Calliope invoked

by the lion to my lioness.

I wear a #2 on my breast for second chance

on the sidelines that hold me not.

My…


A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by Diana Parkhouse on Unsplash

Sharing a Web

Let you make your journey

so I can see the blue of your eyes

reflecting the skies.

Their seafoam glint not unlike rain drops

greeting an open-mouthed ocean.

Come just as you are.

Write these words down.

I love you.

We were made out of love

to love.

Etch them on your heart

as they leave my lips

alongside the other ponderings

so you never have to feel alone.

You want, I want.

We get what we need if we try.

This is the condition of my soul.

The woman you…


A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by Road Trip with Raj on Unsplash

Garnet Visions

My heart is a crystal ball.

Peer into it, and tell me what you see.

With every beat, the story line is written

in this secret to growing

the magic of uncommon love

dripping with garnet.

Oh, of all the ways a woman can want a man!

It’s in the way she moves,

seems to float with every step

as she feels his presence.

Call up the taste of him on her lips.

Her favorite dessert.

The heat of a red hot desire

in the morning light,

midday sunrise,

dark of night.

Like sticky sweet taffy

upon an insatiable tongue

and her eyes,

the portals to a better world.

© Julia R. DeStefano


A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by Laura Chouette on Unsplash

Just Where You Left Me

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked.

Your eyes saying more than your lips.

Aching to learn the overflowing secrets

of my Sophia Loren dress

as it pleaded: “Be good to me.

Make me feel like the queen of all things.”

My words fall short.

I must want it too much.

Like I care too much.

Desirous for someone to protect me as I them.

To not be the only one going

the extra moonlit mile.

I wasn’t cold, not until you left.

Pulling on my robe.

Cinching it ‘round my…


A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by lucas Favre on Unsplash

Running Season

The weird chill is upon me,
and I see you’re lacing up your running shoes —
not minding the snow blanketing our small earth
or the probability of slip and fall.
But there are whiteout conditions out there!
Surely, you’ll freeze to death.
Shivering outside love’s shelter.
And why the straitjacket?
We both know it can’t keep you warm
no matter how tight you pull.
With no finish line in sight,
how will you ever know when it’s time
to turn back towards this woman who’s missing you?
Or will the bell-like peal of her laugh
fade into distant memory like the sound of the…


A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by Cesira Alvarado on Unsplash

Seems like a long time nothing much rang true. But I feel like something could happen. I feel like something could happen with you. ~Tom Petty, “Something Could Happen”

Poetry Surrounded Me

I was wrapped in white and blue.

A thin tie to twice-enclose

my little waist

and the secrets kept there.

A tortoise shell clip securing my titian locks.

My favorite platforms.

You wore wildness on your sleeve like your heart.

Filling in the blanks.

Not wanting to die full of questions.

Soaking up the elixir of my love.

And I could have…


A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by lucas Favre on Unsplash

Running Season

The weird chill is upon me,

and I see you’re lacing up your running shoes -

not minding the snow blanketing our small earth

or the probability of slip and fall.

But there are whiteout conditions out there!

Surely, you’ll freeze to death.

Shivering outside love’s shelter.

And why the straitjacket?

We both know it can’t keep you warm -

no matter how tight you pull.

With no finish line in sight,

how will you ever know when it’s time

to turn back towards this woman who’s missing you?

Or will the…

Julia R. DeStefano

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