I Never Spied a Leprechaun | G. David Schwartz
I never spied a Leprechaun
I never spud a bud
I never drained a darn pipe
Never, not a one.
the past poems
Before the Storm | Rose Mary Boehm
Lattice is the delicate
but firm separation
between two worlds.
The evening sun
lets almost black
silhouettes undulate
on her small blankets.
Her tiny fingers
pick holes into the stiff
layer of wallpaper,
where pink flowers
meet pink leaves.
Father has told her the story,
has sung her the song.
He now stands cut out
black against the window,
brightly lit dust motes
hustling in the wake
of his breath.
Aegis stolen from a time
when nothing is safe.
More at http://rosemaryboehm.weebly.com/.
Shadow’s Realm | Leanna Sellers
I’ve a darkened past, I shan’t say aloud
I have a fear at times, among the crowd
I’ll not let the darkness overtake me
Nor hiding in the shadows taunting thee
Sacred is the time at hand
Relinquishing all things planned
Dreams forever, they’ll provide
Now beyond the great divide
I can surpass the things that hold me near
Within the shadows realm and atmosphere
I see so many windows so clearly
Hanging in the wind and spinning near me
Rise above a shadow’s past
Knowing things will never last
I feel the chill from whence on high
Strengthen hearts that pass me by
From a darkened past I shall rise above
Know without a shadow’s doubt, there is love
Many things guide me through the wind and sky
On eagles wings heightened and amplify
Letting Go | Manuelito D. Pio Roda
Fighting against the
pain of lingering loss,
while memories
still burns bright.
Reflecting beneath
the longing nightfall.
Dropping the old to pave
the path for the new.
Gazing at the beauty
of a new future ahead as
letting go of the past
And the time when
there was me and you.
More at https://allpoetry.com/poem/14527008-Letting-Go-by-Raven1109.
Museum | Linda Imbler
To the casual eye,
a roomful of old, dusty objects,
scrolls of great words
containing broken promises,
the hardest days of time captured,
man’s progress built one culture at a time.
And while the present stands full
of promise and difficulty,
the past did send forth wings of hope,
some forgotten, some ignored.
And it’s good to embrace
the backstories of so many forgotten nights.
In this sea of iron, stone, wood, and fabric,
it’s amazing to see
how beautifully imperfect we are.
Light Effect | Denny E. Marshall
The sun erupted
Light rose like erosion
To wash away
The night’s collection
More at http://www.dennymarshall.com/.
1028 Peach Street | Matthew Borczon
In the
neon hour
before sunrise
I am
in a
parking lot
looking at
a fence
that was
once my
old apartment
I spent
almost ten
years above
a paint
store across
from the
YMCA there
were three
roommates
then two
engagements
that were
doomed before
they started
not Romeo
and Juliette
doomed but
more like
Tom and Jerry
Tweety and Sylvester
Itchy and Scratchy
While E coyote
and the road runner
we chased
each other
through our
two bedrooms
with Acme
bought love
while anvils
fell hard
on all
our life
plans
back when
we thought
we knew
what we
were doing
back when
we thought
we had
nothing but
time.
Sunday Morning Breakfast at Our House | Stan Morrison
Fresh juice, never buy Sno Crop
Moscovitz fresh warm bagels
Cream cheese, deli belly lox
Smoked white fish or sturgeon
Tomatoes, cukes and capers
Can only be served open face
Home-made herring in a large jar
Cups of percolated coffee and cream
Chocolate Babka and cinnamon rolls
Such were the joys, so it now seems
Nostalgia’s a mere closed eyes away
That was so long ago and far away
Things like that don’t happen nowadays