Category: Poetry

The Colt’s Concern

Photographic art by Julie Powell


The Colt’s Concern
Words by Leslie Noyes

I had a dream last night of galloping like the wind, of leaving your warm side and running with new friends.

Scary, it was, yet exhilarating, too, the further I ran the harder it was to find my way back to you.

You dreamed, my colt, of life as it should someday be. The time will come when you no longer have a need for me.

How will I know when the time is right to strike out on my own, a colt no more, instead a mighty stallion?

There’ll surely be false starts before you venture out; that day’s not set in stone, and we’re never free from doubt.

If it’s all the same to you, I’ll hang out here awhile longer, let my legs lengthen and my heart beat stronger.

Sweet son, stay until you’re ready in your body and your soul. I will gladly keep you close and proudly watch you grow.

Check out Julie Powell’s blog at https://juliepowell2014.wordpress.com/

I’ve Been Drunk

I’ve Been Drunk
words by Leslie Noyes

I’m usually sober, but I have been drunk. Sometimes one glass of wine leads to another,

And I lose count. Mind, this isn’t my usual state. Normally you’ll find me sober as a saint.

Tonight, though? Tonight I succumbed. Tonight I forgot about rules and restrictions.

I did not drown my sorrows; I celebrated my joys. Oh, my heart! I have so very many.

Never Judge a Book

They leaned across the table,
fingertips touching,
heads inclined,
eyes engaged

Anyone could see how much in
love they were,
except I heard
her call him

A freaking dumbass, while
he made feeble
attempts at an
apology.

Eavesdropping certainly
has some perks
not the least of which is
entertainment value.

Vivian Maier, New York, 1950

Hunker Down

I’ve hunkered down, my friend, awaiting storm’s approach,

Supplies are purchased, including wine, my taste above reproach.

Let’s bask this day in the modern life, celebrate electricity,

For tomorrow we may lose this perk and struggle yet to see.

I’ve books stockpiled, along with food, the soul to feed in time

While waiting out the coming flood with words inclined to rhyme.

Oh, I’ll watch the tempest throughout the night, daring it to harm

And hoping that with dawn’s first light it’s fizzled, no alarm.

Strange Bedfellows

photographic art by Julie Powell

Strange Bedfellows
Words by Leslie Noyes

I can’t get wet,
You don’t like the dry,
You lumber about,
I love to fly.

I dine on worms,
You feast on grass,
You’re quite large,
I’m just a little lass.

I’ve heard you bellow,
You’ve listened to me sing
I admire your ears,
You envy my wings.

You can’t build a nest,
I can’t capsize a boat,
You fear nothing,
I never learned to float.

We aren’t much alike
In our habits and ways,
Yet we manage to co-exist
For all of our days

Despite our differences
We share this earth
I’m your best friend,
And you’re my perch.

Visit https://juliepowell2014.wordpress.com/ for more wonderful photography.


Before We Were Kings

Photographic Art by Julie Powell

“Before We Were Kings”

by Leslie Noyes

Before we were kings, we slept half the day rising at noon for our breakfast.

Before we wore robes, we frolicked like fools behaving as if it would all last

We snuggled and snuffled, snorted and sang, trumpeting our joy to the masses

And no one chastised us lest we succumb to a crippling, pachyderm sadness.

Oh! It was roll, roll, tumble and flow until the grand day of our crowning

Now we sit tall, on thrones one and all solemnly judging and scowling.

For more wonderful photography, visit https://juliepowell2014.wordpress.com/

Call and Response

Photographic art by Julie Powell

Call and Response

words by Leslie Noyes

Time ceases to exist
When the old man speaks
Yet trembles when he listens.

Draw nearer, friend
Better for him to hear
Above the fray and frenzy.

Whisper loudly, for he is
Stone deaf and ancient
Beyond our reckoning

His tears flow like cold sap
Weighted with the detritus
Of aging arteries

But, flow they do in silent
Sympathy with all that has
Befallen man, and all that is to come.

No platitudes forthcoming
Today he listens only.
Tomorrow, he may speak in tongues.

Please visit https://juliepowell2014.wordpress.com/ for more amazing art.

Small One

Art by Julie Powell

“Small One”

words by Leslie Noyes

Precious is this tender life with which we’ve been entrusted.

Within every whispered sigh, every tender flutter lies the question:

Will sanctuary be offered through all the trials of time? 

My breath is yours. My heart has your name inscribed.

But, life is fleeting, How can such solemn promises be kept?

Hold fast. Cling with heart and hand, in sickness, in health.

And when we expire? What becomes of our love then?

Energy refuses mortal boundaries and so remains.

Keep me then; I am yours, you are mine, and our ends untimed.

Precious is this tender life with which we’ve been entrusted.

This poem is the latest in my collaboration with photographer, Julie Powell. Please visit Julie’s site for more of her beautiful work: https://juliepowell2014.wordpress.com/


In Case of Fire

In case of fire…by Leslie Noyes

In case of fire,
worry about yourself and keep the precious things close:
teddy bears
rhinestone rings
crackerjack puzzles

locate the nearest exit, noting it
might be behind you.
above all don’t
hesitate or
procrastinate

walk, don’t run to the lighted
doorway, leave
no one behind,
no stone
unturned.

though that might’ve been another part of the equation,
like stop,
drop,
and roll.

  

To My Brothers

we shared
rooms and bikes,
christmases and
vacations,
love, fear, and
exultations.

do you remember
planning a nativity
skit?
The only girl,
I was always Mary
while you two were
shepherds or kings,
never baby Jesus.

while we never
actually performed
the play
we could have,
maybe.

how about the time
in New Mexico
when Daddy stopped
the car in the smack dab
middle of the road
to get close to a
black bear?

did we all scream
or was it just
me when he got out
of the sedan to talk
to said bear?

remember cousins?
going on road trips
to California and
back?
baby brother damned
near drowned at San Juan
Capistrano.

Mama worried
that she and I would
need head scarves to
tour the
mission there.

where are we now?
far, yet close.
set free by parents
who knew we had to
be strong.
I miss them.
I miss you both,
little brothers.