You swept my soul clean
digging into the corners
with an old straw broom.
splintered handle held
in calloused, gentle fingers
moving dust around.
motes travel quickly
swirling faeries in sunlight
each a piece of me.
Sweeping Corners
Category: Poetry
The Joy of Ice Cream
on hot summer days
the ice cream truck beckons youth
canned music piping
to heat-parched children
scampering through neighborhoods
clamoring for treats.
hey mister stop here!
mommy it’s the ice cream man!
may i have a dime?
please? i’ll fold towels.
we’ll mow the lawn tomorrow!
promises offered
some were even kept.
Skating
A future prepared
Frozen smooth, without ripples
Skating on thin ice.
Cracks form and widen
Water seeps through, threatening
Surface gives quarter.
They all then fall down.
Peace, people!
Salvation
Finally she knew
no one could ever save her
neither knight nor prince.
Armed with this knowledge
she sallied forth, unafraid,
searching for dragons.
Empowered woman
whole and unafraid of strength
could not be distressed.
For lo and behold
no dragon needed slaying;
fear had been man made.
Ballad of the Battle of the Mold
Armed only with grit and determination
(and a brush, rubber gloves and a tonic for mold eradication)
Fair maiden set forth one morning in May
to for once end this harbinger of death and decay.
Pandora (the music, not the lady of myth)
Heralded maiden’s approach as she addressed the green filth.
“Begone!” she cried and the mold did not budge.
“I gave you good warning, now perish you sludge!”
Fair maid sprayed and scrubbed, her back bent at odd angles
She swept sweat from her eyes and made her old arms jangle.
After hours of labor she rose from tired knees
Expecting to see a sight which surely would please.
Instead a difference she could not discern
“Dammit,” she muttered. “Let Studly have a turn.”
One small section of our wall taken before and after. I guess I made a bit of a difference.
Is it too early for a glass of wine?
Peace, people!
Words
rampant emotions
storm the brain, wreaking havoc
let my tongue stay calm
dueling friction
using words as our weapons
exhausts my spirit
grant me five minutes
I’ll get myself together
now I’m in pieces.
and my opponent,
we’ve not changed the other’s views
sparring for nothing.
Dark
would you clap in delight
when the lights go out,
or would you cower in darkness
afraid to take a single step?
would you cry in despair
believing all was lost,
or pass the time in reflection
recalling the blessings of night?
would you dance in place
swaying with abandon
or collapse in a heap of despair
forever changed by the absolute?
After I published this post a friend and fellow writer, Janie Christie Heniford, pointed out that the quote attributed to Galileo is instead from a poem (below) by Sara Williams. Thanks Janie!
Though my soul may set in darkness,
It will rise in perfect light.
For I have loved the stars too fondly
To be fearful of the night.–Sara Williams
Watching Rain
swift darkness descends
in the middle of the day
thunder follows hush.
deep in the forest
lightning scorches mighty oak
searing stricken arms.
once thunder crashes
still silence pulsates with rage
nature’s violence
anticipation,
exhilaration, and fear
fill glorious storm
tapering rainfall
arrhythmic beats signal end
skies lightening soon.
How Inappropriate!
mountain grown coffee
served with double entendre
good to the last drop
some like it so hot
smooth and rich, yet strongly brewed
i could go for that
you’re my cup of tea
often naughty, sometimes nice
always intriguing
Red Stapler
a photo of you
sits next to a red stapler
on top of my desk.
every morning
i touch my lips to your lips
captured under glass.
it’s a cold, spare kiss
no warmth exchanged in the act;
only memories.
Praying for Eyebrowz 