It all began one early Saturday morning in September 1999. I'd gotten out of bed and quietly slinked across to the kitchen careful as to not disturb my 4-year-old son, Sam, sleeping in the next room. As I started the coffee, I held my breath hoping that the wafting aroma or gurgling sounds from my Mr. Coffee wouldn't alert him to the dawning of a new day - at least not yet.

As I sipped from my cup, the most incredible thing occurred. I had the urge to write a poem. It struck me like a lightning bolt. While writing had been a near constant in my life, poetry was not. Over the years, I had written a couple of scripts with a friend and a few essay pieces, but most of my writing had consisted of newspaper articles in college.

Shortly after Sam's birth in 1994, I had made one sweet but admittedly lame attempt at poetry to celebrate his arrival. I figured sooner or later Emily Dickinson would stop rolling over in her grave once she realized her place in history as arguably the most prolific female poet would not be challenged by me. Surely, this would be my first and last foray into this art form.

But as the morning progressed, the feeling did not subside; in fact, it was growing. I finally succumbed; and for the next two days I struggled to pen "I Love You." It's a poem about someone standing on that fine, and often scary, line between friendship and romantic love. Oddly enough, I felt no such turmoil in my own life, but the need to write about it was overwhelming.

Before I knew it, more poems had burst forth. I had no idea that "I Love You" would wind up catapulting me into a whole new world. I began testing out my poems on my son. At four years old, how critical could he be? It wasn't long before he told me he wanted to hear my poems in lieu of a bedtime story. I realized then that I had the power to convey my thoughts, feelings and personal philosophies to him in a form that he found entertaining.

Eventually I began sharing my poems with friends and family. They told me they laughed (with me, I hope), cried, found solace and understanding in my words often to the point of sharing my poetry with their loved ones - the ultimate compliment in my book. It was then that I decided to throw caution to the wind and see how the rest of the world would receive my work. Fortunately for me, I've gotten a lot of encouragement.

Writing the poems and prefaces in "Angel's Dance" has been a labor of love. I hope you will enjoy reading it as much I have had writing it. I'd like to extend my thanks to everyone who has helped spread the word by gifting my book to their loved ones.

All the best,

Lynn