24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
My mother still plants flowers
In her garden every year
There are tomatoes and cucumbers
Pumpkins and squash
Figs and pears bend the branches of her trees
Herbs live outside the kitchen window
And every year there are flowers
Roses climb the fence
Daffodils and columbines in the front yard
An angel trumpet calls to heaven
And a Confederate Rose is at the bottom of the drive
My mother’s garden is nothing without flowers
24 One More Time
How many turns around the marathon block
Are left for me and others and you
Challenged and tired but yet grateful
For the time and mind to show up again
A community of word lovers who share
Across invisible space and boundaries
Truly a miracle of enduring humanity
Lest we forget where our goodness resides
Bodies under siege
controlling men weilding pens
raping our freedoms
kidnapping our liberties
taking hostage our bodies.
Stardust, are we?
Sand to be sprinkled
as salve over weary eyes,
lay your body down
be held
in the tender
arms of sleep—
we are stardust
What a joy to know you!
What a joy to smell a flower!
What a joy to have mountains!
And sea as well! Sheer joy!
In that blurry kingdom of inspiration,
muses are trapped in coloured bottles
where grain alcohol transports them onto blank pages.
These muses dance on the slippery pages,
making efforts to stick, to be counted, and be read.
Sometimes, the birthed words fly into the eyes of the drinker
who then shakes off catapulted confusion by seeking the bottle once more.
Paper balls, cracked pen stems, and white spaces adorn.
In a sane minute or two, a sensible chord is struck
in that cloud of dust where clarity is ephemeral.
It might be great art to gamble with muses resident in a bottle;
perhaps not the thought that they live anywhere at all, muses!
Shoes, I love shoes
High heels, low heels, boots, flats, track
Any and Every colour in the mix
Just not every style
Going nowhere, I’m in them
Going out, a contrast or a blend
Works for me
There’s never enough
Buy them when I need them
Buy them when I don’t
I collect them
The design, artistry and variety tickles me
Even if I only imagine my feet in them
Heels are my favorites
I’ll be in them till I’m 80
I love shoes!!
Keep the fire burning,
As the cold winds blow.
Shoulder the blades,
That tear at your dreams.
Hope is yours to keep.
Clearly thoughts can come and go
some sometimes stop and stay a while
but others do not make me smile
they make me mad
they just took off
they’re being bad
when I need them
then they’re gone
and the ones that stay
I don’t need that long
clearly thoughts can come and go
I just want to show
who’s boss
and … and …
never mind.
“Stardust is made of cheese
asleep in its own shoes,”
my mind repeats,
hoping for a little of each.
Sleep first. That glorious time
when movies and music play,
and I, the star, am the hero
hoping for a resolution.
Then cheese, and showers,
and shoes, and tea.
Water with lime and mint
as I play examining stardust.