Yellow leaves fall
like puddles of wet feathers
and the air smells
of tired rain.
Clouds dance
over the fields
and corn stalks bow
in withered surrender.
A black crow caws
across the sunless sky
and the pond swells.
I sit at my window
and watch
the scenery being set
for a new season.
Autumn-
I applaud you.
It's been a wonderful show...
I set out before you my new poem-
freshly made-
carefully prepared-
a little proud that all the words
fit together so well.
Like a meal, I've presented it to you
and watch as you peck away slowly.
I watch your expression.
Wait for your approval.
Anxious as you digest the poem
right before my eyes.
"Too depressing."
"Wrong subject matter."
"Awkward structure."
I'm not surprised that
you found no flavor in it.
You have no taste.
I have nothing to say.
There is nothing new.
Nothing to write
and nothing to do.
No joy to release
or pain to suppress-
to plans to hide
or dreams to confess.
There is nothing,
there is nothing,
there is nothing today.
I have nothing to say.
When there seems to be no strength to hold me standing-
Words are friends that never seem to fail-
I know I can grasp words from my heart,
though it beats erratic, is weakened and pale.
And I toss them like friends about me-
like jewels that glisten bright in compare
that warm me up and give me hope
when I drown in loneliness and despair.
Words support me like bridges of steel
and wrap round me like a kindness, so rare-
Words are proof that I am still alive
and not oblivious to care.
Words are my lifesaver when the waves clash
and the lightning strikes close to home.
Nothing can take them away from me-
With words, I am never alone.
I drown without them.
Yet, with words, I swim no better.
I just die on the ocean slowly.
Of all the things that turn my head
On highways long and pathways worn-
it's not the rusty fields of corn
Not even starlit skies of blue-
It's someone's shoe.
How did someone lose a shoe?
Just a single one- and not two?
Do they not see one foot is bare?
And why did they leave it sitting there?
Sometimes it looks perfectly new-
So why didn't they keep that shoe?
Did it fly out without them knowing
that suddenly their toes were showing?
I've seen a shoe all wrinkled and worn-
with laces gone and leather torn-
Not worth keeping- But even then-
You think you'd see it's ugly twin.
I've seen all kinds- and still I whisper-
"Who's limping around without that slipper?"
"Who's sprinting with one Nike Air?
"Does the cowboy know his boot is there?
How sad to see a lonely shoe...
Does any of them belong to you?
There were days when she felt like dancing-
like pulling up her long cotton skirt
and floating to the music of the old Victrola-
The same days when she felt
as though the circles beneath her eyes
and the arthritis in her fingertips
was a thing of the past.
There were days when her age
or her health-
didn't matter.
She felt nineteen again.
There were those few, rare days.
There were days when she shed
the thick woolen socks
and tight leather ankle shoes
and wandered outside barefoot-
where the warm sun made
the stone walk hot
and where the summer shade made
the green grass cool.
And she would walk to
the edge of the meadow
and imagine an end
to the sea of cornfields.
There were days when she would
let down her hair
and brush it the length of her back
and count the strokes
until she reached one hundred.
Then she would sit
in front of the old black fan
and pretend she was walking
in a rain storm
on an exotic street in Paris.
There were days when she felt like dancing-
like there were no boundaries
to what she could do
and who she could be.
Like life was just beginning
and
it
was
hers.
There were those few, rare days...
Flowers are a gift of love
and if your heart is true-
Gather not roses, ruby red
tied in ribbons of blue.
But to prove your faithfulness
and love forever more-
Bring me lilacs- bouquets of lilacs-
gather lilacs at my door.
For dearer than candy or jewelry or wine-
In life, my treasure is this:
Bring me lilacs- bouquets of lilacs-
Just lilacs and a kiss.
And should I someday pass from earth-
Upon my grave, I request no stone-
Just a lilac- a beautiful lilac
that will be mine alone.
Just a lilac-a beautiful lilac
before I travel home.
I turn on the car radio when I'm alone-
Take a new route home.
Listen to a song from the past.
Full blast.
Soon I'm blond and thin and tan.
It smells of coconut and sand.
My hair blows freely in the sun.
My red lips glisten as I run.
I'm soft and happy and so carefree.
I'm a woman alive!
I'm finally "me"!
But...
Then I'm home and the song is done.
I'm fat and grumpy and never fun.
I'm old and blue and grouchy and gray.
And it's time to put my dreams away.
This is another poem of mine I found while cleaning closets this week.
Must have been a really bad day! :)
November 16, 1990 6:32 am Friday
This is the storm that I saw coming
In the distance of the sky-
I hold my own- Am I alone?
(I'm so grateful that I can cry)...
At first it was just raindrops-
We've stayed fairly dry.
But then thunder crashes and lightning flashes-
(and I'm so grateful that I can cry).
You soared so gracefully for so long-
Soared successfully and high.
But we can't pretend that we can mend
Broken wings that cannot fly.
The rain is torrents now, I see-
The lightning hurts my eyes-
My heart is still- I cannot feel-
(But I'm so grateful that I can cry).
Perhaps there is shelter somewhere
To comfort you and I.
But after this weather- will we be together?
Or soar a different sky?
Someday
there will be nothing left of me
except a stack of photographs
lying somewhere
in a musty drawer-
with old buttons
and pennies
and pens with no ink.
Note:This little sing-song poem
was written in 2002 about a camping trip
experience. My sister Linda named
this so-called mud hole-
(strategically placed in
the middle of the campsite)-
which all of us seemed to
avoid except my husband.
You had to be there, I guess.
I found this while I was
cleaning yesterday and thought
it might bring Linda a smile...
Down in the holler
There's a story they tell
And I'll share it now
if you'll sit for a spell.
There's a place by the river-
By evil possessed-
It's a hole in the ground
that lies waiting in rest.
Slick as snot
and thick with mud
It'll bring you down
with a thunderous thud!
It will shame your pride
and steal your soul-
So friend, just beware
of the Ass-Whippin' Hole!
If you've had a few beers-
it just seems to know-
It opens right up
and grabs your big toe!
When others see it-
the laughter will roll
At the sight of your ass
gettin' whipped by the hole!
To will the seasons?
It cannot be done-
No matter how you wish it true-
Spring cannot ever come
until natures bids it do.
Cry for Spring?
It is all in vain-
Tears will not bring forth
flowers in the lane
or a sky of blue.
To will the seasons-
to hurry Spring
with daffodils
and birds that sing-
and whippoorwill?
It cannot be-
though your poor heart pleads-
It comes with time
and fills the trees...
at nature's will.
Like salt and pepper shakers-
We're a pair
Put together in a corner
that we share.
I'm salt. You're pepper-
flowing free...
Needless to say, you're a bit
spicier than me!
We hang around together-
perfect as our name
But no matter how we try,
we'll never be the same.
Yet, I love you always-
to differences, I pay no mind.
We'll always be individuals,
yet, better when combined.
Like salt and pepper shakers,
we're a pair-
Even though we don't agree
on everything we share.
But I am confident we'll survive
any kind of weather-
Because we're the best that we can be
when we're shakin' it together!
Autumn is swallowed up by rain.
...stuffed into a globe of swirling
yellow leaves that soon rest
like wet, lemon feathers
on my doorstep.
I breathe the cool air,
wrap my sweater tighter-
look beyond the withered corn fields
and search for Summer.
It was just here.
In my arms.
I was just holding onto
its sunshine and greenness
and the perfume of life.
Now, Autumn steps in.
Smelling of wet earth
and burning wood
and dry hay.
Cradling me with
shaky arms and
a chilly smile.
The screen door slams
with a gust of wind
and leaves continue
to dance from the trees
and die on the ground.
I go inside.
Ashamed that Autumn
would greet me so rudely.
Afraid that Summer
will never be found again.
I know where tears come from.
From rainy days like this.
The rain just drip, drip. drips
into pools of despair
that pour down
into the creases of your heart-
that twists through your veins-
that invade your thoughts...
And the rain stays there-
all swollen up inside of you
till finally
someone
or something
touches your heart-
breaks that fragile vessel-
and tears burst forth
and flow out
like painful rivers
into
a salty sea.
I wish that I could somehow catch
A piece of October sky-
That I could hide, until one day
the snowflakes start to fly.
I wish I could slice off some sunshine
to treasure and to hold-
To make me smile and keep me warm
when the winter makes me cold.
I wish I could save the autumn colors
in a special, secret jar-
stuffed full with violet sunsets
and silver, falling stars.
I'd place within each flaming leaf-
each golden day- each sweet perfume.
And in the midst of winter, release it all
around me in my room.
I wish I could have it all to keep-
These sweet autumn days...because,
deep in winter, I seem to forget
how really beautiful it was...
Written April 22, 1979
I'll never be a Disco Queen-
A ballerina in a distant dream-
A cheerleader on an All-Star team.
But-
I'm gonna be a Mom!
I'll never be a famous star-
A jet-set lady in a fancy car-
Or travel long and wide and far-
But-
I'm gonna be a Mom!
I'll never be the sophisticated kind-
wrapped in mink and gold and wine-
Ordering "escargot" when I dine-
But-
I'm gonna be a Mom!
And it doesn't matter if I get
past the old front door-
Or spend my leisure hours
vacuuming the floor-
Because what I'll be is better
than I've ever been before-
I'm gonna be a Mom!
And if the only stars I ever see
Are those up in the sky-
I'm gonna take these
brand new wings and fly-
I'm gonna give this special
dream a try.
I'm gonna be a Mom!
And nothing is important
in this whole wide world but you-
I'll spend my entire lifetime
helping take you through-
There's nothing else I'd rather be
Or anything else I'd rather do-
I'm gonna be a Mom!
He died today. He died today.
I tried to hold him. He slipped away.
Now the chill sets in. I'm cold.
No longer is he here to hold.
We had such good times- he and I
beneath the summer's fading sky-
The days were full of smiles and plans-
But he slipped away- right through my hands.
We saw the season change together-
Held on through rough and rainy weather-
Watched the leaves turn the color of fire-
As the yellow moon grew higher...higher...
Bathed in sassafras perfume-
we lived. We laughed. We danced a tune.
But the music has just stopped today-
The cold has come- I fear- to stay.
Rest in peace, my dearest friend-
These memories will never end...
Mr. September- I still can see your face
as Mr. October comes
to take your place...
