Dreaming of August
in the torrential rains of March
Seeing my harvest
with snow on the ground.
Lack not imagination
for without we're doomed
with nothing ever dreamed of
thought of ... wished for
No joyous bird song
No garden in bloom.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Lament of a High School Teacher
Horrible movies,
slutty styles,
cringe at the language,
thier driving a trial.
Can no longer remember,
my own wild ways.
Growing old is a drag,
when around teens all day.
I took this job,
For the long summer breaks.
Now the stress just causes,
distressed head aches
slutty styles,
cringe at the language,
thier driving a trial.
Can no longer remember,
my own wild ways.
Growing old is a drag,
when around teens all day.
I took this job,
For the long summer breaks.
Now the stress just causes,
distressed head aches
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Death to Chocolate
Die -
sticky sweet brown fingers
that leave prints on the keyboard
Perish -
fructose laden haven.
You have ravenged my self control
evilly enslaving me over the batter bowl
laden with browie mix or cookie dough.
You're addictive -no doubt -
but what you "add" one can do without!
My tastebuds mourn your absence
so my waistline might celebrate.
Because when the pleasure of coacoa is gone
It's trace lingers ever round me.
sticky sweet brown fingers
that leave prints on the keyboard
Perish -
fructose laden haven.
You have ravenged my self control
evilly enslaving me over the batter bowl
laden with browie mix or cookie dough.
You're addictive -no doubt -
but what you "add" one can do without!
My tastebuds mourn your absence
so my waistline might celebrate.
Because when the pleasure of coacoa is gone
It's trace lingers ever round me.
Married to a Homebrewer
He sits by the hour - stiring his pot
the steam rising wildly around him.
The smell of the hops
permeates the shop.
Oh how I wish he'd come inside then!
The batch must be right
a Brewers delight
before his focus will wane.
Who ever thought
my attentions be naught.
At brew time, my husband's a pain!
the steam rising wildly around him.
The smell of the hops
permeates the shop.
Oh how I wish he'd come inside then!
The batch must be right
a Brewers delight
before his focus will wane.
Who ever thought
my attentions be naught.
At brew time, my husband's a pain!
The Formal Dance
She paces the floor in the dress we picked out
White cotton, red trim and some lace
Cheeks flush and heels click,
Hair bounceing quick.
Excitement and youth radiates.
Rite of passage so serious, she- most delirious.
Her anxiety an atmospheric strain.
The time has come to go,
She has no boy in tow.
Dad drives her down the lane.
A woman just left, familiar but not
Footfalls pattering like rain.
The girl slowly replaced,
Lost amongst lace,
I hope to see her again.
White cotton, red trim and some lace
Cheeks flush and heels click,
Hair bounceing quick.
Excitement and youth radiates.
Rite of passage so serious, she- most delirious.
Her anxiety an atmospheric strain.
The time has come to go,
She has no boy in tow.
Dad drives her down the lane.
A woman just left, familiar but not
Footfalls pattering like rain.
The girl slowly replaced,
Lost amongst lace,
I hope to see her again.
Spun Crust
(I was sick when I wrote this and felt entombed in my room)
As I craze
in my solitary room
remind me of your existance
outside my spun crust.
Tap and chisle me out
so I may see the sun again.
As I craze
in my solitary room
remind me of your existance
outside my spun crust.
Tap and chisle me out
so I may see the sun again.
Bird of Paridise
Bird of Paradise
Old man,
riding on the bus
his wife's coat buttoned
taunt over his paunch.
Bird of Paradise glittering on his lapel
sparkeling as a dare to your eye
furtively glance his way
skimming the stern face
under the greasy black combover
to rest on the gem below
(OK, on the bus in Seattle I actually saw this man and I knew what the pin was called because my MOM has one. It drew my eyes like a magnetic pull!!)
Old man,
riding on the bus
his wife's coat buttoned
taunt over his paunch.
Bird of Paradise glittering on his lapel
sparkeling as a dare to your eye
furtively glance his way
skimming the stern face
under the greasy black combover
to rest on the gem below
(OK, on the bus in Seattle I actually saw this man and I knew what the pin was called because my MOM has one. It drew my eyes like a magnetic pull!!)
For Aunt Lorinda on her Birthday
I wrote this when a group birthday announcement was posted honoring my late aunt's birthday. She passed away when I was 20 of cancer leaving behind her two teenage children. She was loved very much - not just by me but by everyone. Aunt Lorinda was a bit of a free spirit.
For Aunt Lorinda on her birthday
I'll see you behind the curtian -
across the great divide -
past the last bend in the road -
amounst the hosts you'll hide -
Where souls take breathless flight
and love envelopes all who travel there.
Where ended is life's hardscrabble fight,
with sorrows you no longer bear.
Freedom from pain and misery,
Cherish the incredible mystery,
God forgives with new life divine,
across the great divide.
For Aunt Lorinda on her birthday
I'll see you behind the curtian -
across the great divide -
past the last bend in the road -
amounst the hosts you'll hide -
Where souls take breathless flight
and love envelopes all who travel there.
Where ended is life's hardscrabble fight,
with sorrows you no longer bear.
Freedom from pain and misery,
Cherish the incredible mystery,
God forgives with new life divine,
across the great divide.
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