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Pickle Pumpkins

It’s October again
And I wonder,
With all the craze,
Why don’t we
Pickle pumpkins?

Who decided,
Some time,
At the turn of
Whatever century,

It was a good idea
To pickle anything?

“We played a dirge for you
But you didn’t weep.
We played a song for you
But you didn’t dance.”

“We gave you a pickle,
But you made a sour face.”

Some kids just don’t LIKE pickles.
And some just do.

But for most of us
It grows on us
Over time.

Bundle of Joy

My heart’s found joy
That lines this day
My baby boy
Is awake to play
God bless this child, forever love
We seek your protection from above
Ten tiny fingers
Touch the sky
Ten little toes
Kick mommy’s thigh
Days sing your youth, may you be spared
The years of truth, adults have beared

The Iron Landlady

Between the slats of slab huts
Corrugations of tin through time
Roughly formed chimneys
And the sun in decline

I spy her, though not as planted voyeur
But, quite by accident
In the confines of tangle iron sheds
Looking for all things that define

The sharpness, her edge, just
The right tool for the job
In some dwindling corner
Before it turns to rust

Thus her labours can patch up
Once more with twine, a crack or a gape
In the ageless shadows that define
This house, she will never leave

Keeping It Simple One Day at a Time

Dying to be Read 1982-1991

The Perfect Rhyme...

All My Life I've been searching for The Perfect Rhyme

From the sands on the shore To the stars in the sky

Through the seasons of time , The reason I'm alive

I long to find The Perfect Rhyme

I know not how it started

It just happened one day

People told Me I was crazy

They would always turn away

I would just turn the page

Writing until My fingers bled

Eleagance

I am smooth
I am sleek
I glide through life effortlessly
People want me for prestige
I attract those who wish to walk with me
I am eleagant thats plain to see

radical environmentalism [Senryu]

ironically
most powerful of nations
mocks climate change-sad

Only for Tonight...(my earlier 2013 love poetry)

Come my love
fear not the ailing one
come lie on my shoulders
but just for one more time
let’s cuddle

the waterfalls have now gone dry
‘tis been years passed shy
now as the end approaches
why be wry
lets within each other lie
simply just try

Such another moment
may not come again
then why would you want to ever
lament
our love we did not finally cement

come upon my cheeks
plant a kiss
the last one may be

Gaia

Loneliness was a gift
That opened nature to me
I began to personify her
Kissing my arms
With rain
To untrouble my wounds

The wind giving me a spritely push
In the right direction
Running her fingers
Through my abandoned hair

The sunrise and sunset
Her personalized
Paintings
Meant to expand
And emblazon my
Forgotten soul

All this seen and felt
Of course
By everyone else

But by me in a particularly
Friendly,
Natural,
Even intimate way

Birds-We

Wind held just above the bluff-
Sharp eyes fixed on the meadow's edge
The small brown hawk
Moves on educated pinions and rudder tail

His disciplined body on perfect point
Wheeling on the updraft, the screeching gulls
White and grey grace in fluid motion
Follow the leader as they glide

Swiftly, sharply banking above the cliff
out early this morning-the hang gliders-
A bright variety of colored wings
One, soaring window high

The Waters Edge

Take me down to the water's edge
down to the ocean floor
so many treasures there
waiting for me to explore

Cooling darkened water
yields assuage
from the oppressive heat
within the depths surroundings
there is a gentle heartbeat

Show me the path that leads
to Neptune's open door
there upon a bed of seaweed
my weary head to lay
where I may be lulled to sleep
while little fishes play

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