Ah-Choo!

ah-choo
Wake me when I’m feeling better!

Clinging to a tissue box

Wrapped in blankets, robe and socks

Nose is useless for a breather

Vocal chords don’t work much either

 

Head is pounding, eyes are red

Set up shop inside my bed

Try to write but thoughts don’t come

Senses dull and brain is numb

 

Up again, I hear that soup

Cures colds, Bubonic plague, and croup

Pass a mirror- shrug and stare

Don’t care enough to brush my hair

 

Pills and steam and old wife’s tales

Nothing cures my aches and ails

Start a chore, pretend I’m fine

Dizzy, woozy, never mind

 

Crawl back to my little cave

Bed and pillow now I crave

Day is done, heads a balloon

Good night cruel world! Its only noon

 

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Good Morning Silver: a poem to wish you a happy day!

Good morning silver,Good Morning Silver, a poem

good morning day

Good morning you sneaky sun

Hiding your ray

Good morning bickering birds

In the tree

Good morning dear crow, are you laughing at me?

 

Good morning fat spider too busy to rest

Good morning you flowers in your Sunday best

Good morning dear world, I am feeling your peace

Good morning dear people from the west to the east

 

Good morning to those who are worried and sad

Here’s a little reminder that things aren’t all bad

 

We may think we can’t make a difference at all

That the world is too big and one voice is too small

But a silver sky lifted my spirits today

And a moment was perfect with clouds of gray

 

Be still. Look up. For a moment, relax

If we hear the world, it will listen back

 

So good morning silver, I’ll be on my way

Thank you. I’m ready now, bring on the day

 

Here are some similar poems I wrote! One is about a bee, from the BEE’S perspective, which was  fun to write, I got to fly and everything! Wheeee!

 One is about a spider, and honestly I think spiders get a bad rap. You’ve got to admit they’re kinda cute! A little cute? Okay, maybe its just me. They’re deliciously macabre too! And just plain cool!

And one cozy “Curl up under a blanket with a cup of tea” poem about a misty morning! Enjoy!

And in case you don’t know, I’m a musician too! You can take a listen here, or come see a live performance!  Also, thank you Heather Walters, writer and blog genius extraordinaire,  for turning me on to Unsplash.com, for beautiful copyright-safe photos!

 

The Rise and Fall of a Bee

 

BeeIt’s dark. Sticky. Air thick with damp sweetness. My body vibrates to free a pair of stiff, wet things on my back. Lifting, drying, beating, whizzing. Wings!

Off I go. Hunger. Light! Wind! Brightness! Zing! Zoom! Ha ha! Whee!

Hunger. A taste in the air. A wafting sugary mix of color and scent. Lavendar, pink, yellow, magenta explosion of sensations for my kaleidoscope eyes. So many flavors, how do I choose?

I land on a fragrant yellow pillow. Mmm. Step step step giggle, look at my funny black legs, now wearing yellow socks!

Zzzip, off I go. Whiz, whirl, dizzy silly fun! Pink! Ooh pink next! Step step step, look at my legs now! And look at the pink pillow, covered with my little yellow footprints. Pollination! Oh so very important am I!

Pungent. Powerful. What is that intoxicating smell? I go down down down into the forest of green blades. A red apple on the ground, squishy soft and oozing. Taste taste taste. Feast feast feast. Oh dear. Fermented. My head is light. I try to fly but I reel. Drunken me. Buzz buzz buzz, I can only lay on the brown earth, humming and batting my wings in a stupor.

Fresh air, a light gust of wind. My head is clearing. Phew. I feel better. I can smell the colors again. I am hungry. I am me again. I shake my body, tremble my wings. I am ready to fly. But a great shadow blocks the light. All is darkness. I hear a voice. A giant! A human child. I am trapped under her foot!

Wiggle wiggle. I feel the pressure. I am being pushed into the earth! Squiggle squiggle. The child, tall as a bush, and me so small. But I have a weapon! I arch my back and raise my poison sword. I stab to save my life. Sting sting sting!

Loud scream. Shouts and cries. Another human approaches. Quickly I tremble my wings. Zip! Zoom!

Dodge, evade, what is this? A hand, batting me! Shouting, more hands, swatting, flailing.

Dive, twirl, POW!

I am struck. I fall. Down, down into the grass forest. I land on a soft leaf. I am oozing, like the apple. I tremble my wings but they cannot lift me. The leaf is fragrant. Sweet smelling. All is dark. Thick, sweet and dark, like my birth. I am important. I am important. I am important. If only I had more time…

The yellow footprints in the pink grow a lovely apple, and a child is fed.

Ode to a Pen

A writer with ink makes a rainy day shinepen

A terrible dragon, an angel divine

 

Turns words into heroines, letters to gore

From pages to sages and paper to lore

 

The throne: author’s rickety desk and a chair

The castle: bohemian vagabond lair

The chariot: Hand-me-down car needing paint

The banquet: Lap leftovers on a chipped plate

 

Mightier than the sword, so they say

Endlessly scribbling from night into day

Hours on end with a modern day quill

If only this pen could just pay one bill…

A Question

poppy 2Shh. Listen to the music
Bullets zing
Hear the sound of drums in the distance—a muffled percussion of bombs
A whistle. Pretty in any other place. Not this place
A grand flurry, a timpani roll of crumbling destruction
This is the music of hate

of               fear

of

war

Shh. Listen to the silence
Of no breath, no heartbeat
The music is gone, it has done its deed
It is hungry and spent, and will rest until it can feast again
On intolerance
And replenish on revenge

Strange song in the quiet
So discreet the hunger does not hear
A little red poppy pokes its head through rubble and steel
A curious child kneels to look
And is surprised to hear, barely hear
The uncurling of leaves

“What did you learn from the ruins today?” asks his grandfather

If I Were a Spider

If I were a spider, said sheweb
I would spin beautiful silk patterns morning to night
I would dance and sail on my thread and laugh at the thrill of it

Children would stop by with wide eyes to admire my work
And I would feel grateful and proud
To make a quick busy pattern just for them, to their oohs and ahhs

I would fill their curious minds with a love for nature
And teach by demonstration
The value of even such a small creature as I

At the end of my busy day I could look back at my work
and know the world was somehow the better for it

If I were a spider, said he, I would spin an intricate fortress
Stronger than steel, mightier than a blade

A noble sentinel with a code
I would wage no war against those who passed by
But only capture those who trespassed my kingdom

I would acknowledge the innocence of the unwitting travelers
Yet obey the rules of nature
And sacrifice them for my sustenance
With due honor and reverence
Wrapping them first, in my finest silk

If attacked—if my fortress were beaten down
By careless humankind
Only then would I attack
To avenge my realm’s ruin
And though it be my death, I would bite without mercy
For my fortress be my progeny, my legacy, my sustenance, my soul

If I were a spider, said I…
But I am not

Next time, perhaps, I will take the time to notice
The wonder of a spider

Misty Morning

The sun is sleeping behind a cloud

The world looks different today

Colors quiet to shades of pastel

 

I am aware of the air

With delight I breathe in sparkles

And breathe out clouds

 

My hot tea teases the chill

With its dance of steam

 

Everything is soft

Soft as my sweater

 

Rest, dear sun

Let the rain diamonds shine today

You’ll have your turn tomorrow