Archive for March 22, 2011

Deceitful Spring




Nature renews itself each year

Spring is whispering sweet deceitful lies

As flowers pop up out of nowhere here

Making  promises of eternal life

Still maybe my own end is near

Or  is it just my  midlife crisis that is haunting me?

Nature showing off with youth so dear

Meanwhile I am pulling out my first grey hair

Not feeling young  at all

Is this my Spring or Fall?




entrry for Jingle Potluck

Home to me



The tired houses leaning side by side

The rusty bicycle you always ride

The fisherman whose ship is work and pride

They all are home to me


The sand that’s blowing on the lonely beach

The waves that bring the shore  a  treasure each

The wrinkled  hand that’s  always there to reach

How that is home to me


The mother waiting on the windy pier

The cry of seagulls that are  always here

The far away sons and the one who’s near

So much is home to me


The grandchild who’ll be born in fall

The silent men who’ve seen it all

The drunk man waiting for the final call

That all is home to me


~{}~ entry for jingle poetry potluck

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