The old man was thought to be
Grumpy, sardonic, cynical,
But in his mind, he was
Simply being clinical,
Poised to declare and aver
The way things really were...
She was, tragically,
Politically courageous,
While at the same
Time, fatally contagious,
Should have worn a mask,
Stayed home in bed,
Now just another case
Of Covid-almost-dead...
A fleeting glimpse
From the corner of my eye,
Where rules of reality
Don’t always apply,
Somebody, something
Seems to come near,
Sparking curiosity,
Or uneasiness, fear...
Then I Look! Only to
Have it disappear...
Wheeling grandma
Through the store,
Picking from consumer
Items galore,
Pushing her
This way and then that way,
Hope my kids will
Do it for me someday...
Garbage breakfast time, and the
Dagger-beak crows stab,
Sensing the stinky juicy bits,
They tear, poke, and grab.
And not very long
After they start,
Raw garbage strewn about,
Bags ripped apart...
In answer to some
Kind of chemical urge,
Up from the mulch
The insects surge,
Into the plant stems
And leaves they cling,
When the sun goes
Down, they start to sing...
Thank you for stopping by .... It has been 16 years since the start of this poetry blog .... Over time, I developed a few rules for posting: (1) The verses should not be too abstract, or long; (2) They must rhyme; and (3) Need to write at least twenty per month .... So, yes, the quality varies (sigh), but I've stuck to it and have by now accumulated over 4,000 entries .... I do not write for recognition or money, rather, for some other reason I guess .... Best luck & health to you, JPN.