Forever
I will not have a tombstone –
when I die
A piece of rock to mark
the place where my bones sleep
My soul will not lie down beside those bones
It will soar freely among the clouds,
and stay forever at your side
Forever
I will not have a tombstone –
when I die
A piece of rock to mark
the place where my bones sleep
My soul will not lie down beside those bones
It will soar freely among the clouds,
and stay forever at your side
Spinning Seasons
Like a Merry-go-Round ride this old
blue planet spins round and round –
tilting now and then just to add a
touch of seasoning, a smidge of reasoning
far enough away from the flame
of that burning star that we feel its spicy heat
Bragging Rights
This poem’s been dragged and bagged
and now it’s lagging behind – trying to
flag down some scallawag staggering
by, wagging an extra word or two
that it needs to snag if it’s ever
going to be able to brag about itself
properly, on paper
Dee brings out the silly in me
A Salty Tear
Like a clown, this poem paints
on a happy face and goes serenely
about its day cooking, cleaning, caring.
All the while there is a small salty
tear waiting at the corner of its eye –
waiting to be released when
no one can see.
Dancing in the Dark
My friend, the moon, is hanging about
In the dark waiting for me to come outside
and dance with him. The wind is whistling a
waltz, so I kick off my shoes gliding across the
grass, as dew drops nibble kisses on my toes.
The Howling Moon
Clear winter night, no clouds,
perfect for watching the full moon rise.
It’s called the Wolf Moon.
I can see my breath, suspended in air, and
wonder about that name. Do you think
this cold winter moon howls for the many
who shiver tonight?
—
A Brighter Day
Same Carols, same twinkling lights
Same Santa ringing a bell
Year by year the people notice
less and less, taking it for granted
Until a small girl in a red hat
walked down the city street. When
she smiled, she tinseled the whole day
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille # 137: Throwing Poem Stones
Duck! De Jackson has us throwing stones at each other.
The Rescue
I rescued a katydid from the pool this morning,
laying it gently on the deck, hoping it will dry
out, crawl away. Rain is in the forecast,
so I move it to a stone under a broad leaf.
I hope it’s a lucky stone.
https://dversepoets.com/2021/10/04/quadrille-137-throwing-poem-stones/
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #135: Shake that Poem Groove Thang
Forever Grooving
The needle dropped into the
groove of the old 45-
scratchy sounds of rock’n roll
filled the room. Her hips
and heart began to sway,
images of a high school gym
filled with teenagers floated
behind her closed eyes, and
she felt groovy again.
https://dversepoets.com/2021/09/06/quadrille-135-shake-that-poem-groove-thang/
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #134: We {heart} poems
Heart of the Matter
This poem would like to get right
To the heart of the matter
Dispense with heart-shaped boxes
And frilly construction paper hearts
No plucking heartstrings or silly
“I heart you” stickers. This poem wears
its heart on its sleeve and shouts,
“I love you!”
–
https://dversepoets.com/2021/08/23/quadrille-134-we-heart-poems/