It Was a Dream

It Was a Dream

 

There I was, a sword in my hand

As I killed the lions and tigers that

Leapt to devour me

Crocodiles also, and hyenas, what a bunch!

I killed them all, swift and total

 

And a docile elephant came to my aid

As if it knew there was one more battle ahead

Mighty as it was, it bowed itself and knelt

So I could hop on its back, a massive back.

I mounted the beast, and away it went

Striding through the jungle, I asked not where it was headed

 

From the tree branches above on our path

Came a giant snake aiming my head!

As it pulled forward its head to strike at lightning speed

I met its thrust with the sword in my hand.

A beheaded snake, it only uncoiled and slumped to the ground

And I, on my way, comfortably to my abode did proceed

Riding on an elephant that was not perturbed

 

Ah! It was a dream

Ode to A Water Hose.

Prompts for Hour Twenty-One

You bridge a pipeline to each tree,

and flower patch and unpulled weed.

You’re more than just a plastic snake

as water shoots out from your neck.

You are my staff my scepter sleek

when I into my garden sneak.

I need not build a grand canal,

Or carry water in a pale.

My aqueduct— three-quarter hose,

Small waterfalls feed from your nose.

With you, I travel back in time,

to Eden’s watered river prime.

Oh, flowing sapphire staff made clear,

A snake, like you, is welcomed here.

 

 

 

Posted on June 27, 2021 5:00am EDT by The Poetry Marathon

Hour 21 – Ode to Caffeinated Moonlight

Ode to Caffeinated Moonlight

 

Jittering hands and

remarkably open eyes

neverending night

 

cursed inspiration

flowing through my bitter veins

to guide me forward

 

I Need to be There

i wanna be in a play where they know me
I wanna be in a place where I am safe
I wanna be in a place they know my name even if fleeting

I just wanna in that that place where my loved ones are

Ode to My Camera

My faithful friend
My second set of eyes
You serve as my memory
A buffer when one is needed
The historian of the family
You keep and tell stories.
I honor you.
Stay close by
You never know when
I might need you.

self-portrait of a people-pleaser

to look at me

is to look at a

two-way mirror from

the closed side

see only your face

looking slightly wrong

but still yours

while I stand on the other side

frantically trying to maintain

the illusion

 

love yourself and you

will love me

there is no other way

to do it

one day you might

realize there is more

behind a wall of glass

you never thought to break

but by then I’ll know you well enough

to convince you it would be a mistake

An Ode to Holy Writings

Ode to Babies – hour 21

They laugh and they sigh

but babies do cry;

a form of speaking, aye!

An automatic and frantic spike

of infants and toddlers alike.

 

First motionless and cradled,

now flip and they wobble able

and once helpless bait

now prey like sharks in wait.

 

But it’s tit for tat

and curiosity that

keeps them crawling for binkies

possible crumbs, wanted toys;

they rattle and shake these.

 

As for diapers, they do

have a lot of funky poo

and clean up we rue

when sometimes they spew –

pee-yew!

 

And alas, soon they stand;

they wobble and land

on their bottoms, and then,

try again, and again.

 

Next, they will babble

shake and bounce; they will dabble,

wave a little, bark

and clap like baby sharks.

 

Finally, first steps they make!

I’m sad, while they take

longer walks on the floor,

babes no more,

blooming toddlers out the door.

 

– Sandra Johnson, 6/27/21

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the Earth

POEM 21

Wheat, wheat an ancient grain. Its knobby head is valued like gold.

Grind it smooth for flour or course for the bowl.

Its color is earthen, its aroma like dust from the plain.

In biblical days it was revered, plucked and stored as food for the gods

Give wheat the respect it is due. How low it has fallen from a certain grace.

Allergies spring from its crowned heads. Its stalks and stems once savored with no fear.

The touch of man can be fatal and destructive to his own rescuer.

We have rendered many things useless with our tampering and wheat has become our casualty.

It’s everywhere in divers foods, thickening, shoring up and tearing down.

That ancient golden grain reduced to an additive, stripped of it’s piety.

 

 

 

Ode to sleep

Ah sleep

You know me so well. The lines I enjoy
From the creases of satin pillow.
Oh sleep
How I love the feel of you pulling me from screens
Deep into my blanket fort world.
Oh sleep.
My muse. Bringer of dreams. Bringer of the
End of sore muscle cramps.
At leat a few hours.
Sweet sleep
Sometimes I evade you
Drinking swirls of black coffee- just a dash of milk.
I stay up
Writing poems

Ack!

But gentle sleep will embrace my return.
Wrap me in a blanket.
Cushion my head
Lull my heavy eyes to sleep.
I miss you my mistress. My sleep.