Irma Sheppard




Irma Sheppard immigrated to the USA in 1962 via Canada and Germany. She has lived on the edges of this country, and for the past 30-some years in Tucson, AZ with her husband and a succession of cats. She is a psychotherapist in private practice. Her short story "The Human Touch: A Triptych" won the Martindale Literary Award in 2000, and was published in Kaleidoscope. Her short story, "A Real Piece of India" was published in SandScript and in Portrait. She edited and co-authored Beads on One String Tour 2010 and Beads-on-One-String Heartland Pilgrimage 2013. Her books of poems and creative non-fiction include Inheritance and Where Love Could Take Me. She is preparing her next book, The Well of Longing, for publication in 2015.


Courtesy of

Courtesy of Om Point Web site. Irma with Adele Wolkin ( left )
Courtesy of Om Point Web site. Irma with Adele Wolkin ( left )


True account of a woman's adventures from refugee childhood in Germany at the end of WW II to emigration to Canada and to the United States. Her travels led her back to Germany, to Greece and to India in search of everlasting love and Meher Baba. Written in prose and poetry.






Self Published


288 pp.



The Well of Longing is a book of poems which trace from the author's childhood through adulthood and into senior years, a time span of seventy years, the stepping stones leading toward increased awareness, love and longing for the Presence of God. The opening poem consists of an unconventional view of the long scapegoated Judas, showing him in a true light as the loving and well-loved disciple of Jesus. Part Two presents the impact of growing spiritual awareness on the author's every day life situations. It describes the author's personal experience of the Presence of Avatar Meher Baba, and the continuing fragrance of His Love in her life. Many of the poems in Part Three of the book are meditative in nature, comprised of thoughts and intuitions which arose in the author 's daily life, as relationships and nature reflected some knitting together of spiritual value and sensory or emotional experience. Some poems touch on God's role as Trickster-the One Who makes happen what needs to happen, contrary to conventional reason and logic. A prevailing use of strong imagery brings the reader immediately into the author's personal experience. The poems are written in various styles: free form, pantoum, ghazal, haiku.




Self Published


92 pp.


"The poems in Inheritance explore all that is said (and left unsaid) within families. The lingering bruises of abuse and broken relationships, the universal heartbreak of lost children, and the understanding age brings, all lie in the spaces between the lines. The language resonates like "a fine-toothed wind, bellwether of dark desires." And in the end I was left with the image of a father's favorite spoon, discovered in an attic, whose previous owners had been forced by the Nazis to "relocate." - Susan Cummins Miller, author of Fracture


Self Published


68 pp.



unveiling the burleson house
by irma sheppard


We enter, examine the house room by room,
hall, closet and cellar, upstairs
and down, as if it were a newborn--
in wonder and delight we discover
the grace in each fingernail and toe.

Baba is our constant Companion
in the eye of each smile,
in the sweetness of our greetings,
in the rose on the teacup,
in the heart of every song.

His all-seeing eyes follow us
from His photographs on the walls.
He blesses our pilgrimage,
our tea and cookies, songs and stories,
our quiet sitting, the humming in our veins.

Under His gracious gaze we meet long lost kin.
All my relatives, we say.
All my children, He says.
How happy I am you are here, He says.
How happy we are that You are here, we say.

Here, we are the American Dream Family
gathered whole again, indivisible
in the American Dream Home--
Meher Baba dreaming us
into the Reality of His Love.


You Alone Are Kissed         

You Alone Are Kissed
On the lips
on the nose
between the toes
You alone are kissed.
On the forehead
between the eyes
on cheek or neck
between the sighs
You alone are kissed.
On the hair
on a shoulder
over the heart
growing bolder
You alone are kissed.
On the elbows
on the knees
I darn well please
You alone are kissed.
Under the palms
on the street
in the doorway
how discreet
You alone are kissed.
Under an umbrella
in the rain
under an elm
in the lane
You alone are kissed.
In the morning
at high noon
in dusky evening
under crescent moon
Baba, You alone are kissed!

--Irma Sheppard