And like his steel bangle on my wrist,
He will never fall off my list.
Categories:
bangle, boyfriend,
Form: Crystalline
Bangle Hide and Seek
I have made QVC more than wealthy, buying jewelry organizers fr them!
The wooden ones with mirrors and swinging doors,
Their cartons from QVC....still on the floor.
In sheer madness I went to HSN, sought out Joy Magnano with her
organizers, utterly magical.
Yet this bangle madness proves highly impractical.
I have come to believe, I love to play bangle hide and seek.
Oh, the utter joy to discover, a missing bracelet or ring!
Like meeting an old friend, my favorite piece of bling.
So, I have learned my bangles despise being hidden.
They hide like children, behind an oak tree.
Then shout with joy, "Here I am, Mommy!"
Categories:
bangle, mental illness, nonsense,
Form: Rhyme
Don't bother counting swallows,
I can tell you it's not summer yet.
Winter after winter follows and
my wager is as safe as wagers get
that speeches will be shallow
at the Tory Party Conference
where wearing bangled images of Frida Kahlo
does not inspire public confidence.
Maybe counting birds isn't such a bad suggestion;
but what season follows next, that is the question.
Categories:
bangle, image, irony, leadership, seasons,
Form: Political Verse
Gertrude Bangle
1895-1914
By name I was called Trudy.
When living.
Dear friends of the living,
Do you know Whittier town
Is a very haunted town?
Do you know my ghost still walks
Still silently steps by you?
Oblivious you?
Here in the stalking shade of the myrtles?
Here in the dark shadows of the walnuts?
I still seek the solace from a seeping sadness.
Still seek the light of truth
The air of freedom
In a dark smothering hole
Here in Mt. Olive Cemetery.
Come my friends, come to me now.
Come inside this old resting ground
This long deceased land of a thousand yawning holes
And find my wandering ghost.
You will find me lurking by the Bailey and the Baird graves
Here in the dark belly of death and life eternal.
Here in the stalking shade of the myrtles.
Categories:
bangle, absence, death, grave,
Form: Epitaph
The Song of bangle seller
He sings in all nights to his crying son
to sleep with smile and to forget his mother
Though he is a poor bangle seller
his poem will be too high and luxury
There he compares his son as a prince of his empire and
he leaves his son with the angles to take care
Many plates of royal food will be waiting for him but
his prince Plays with them to his fun
His princess will be from that heaven and
She will bring moon and stars as her gift to that life
River from the Himalayas will come
to wash his palace and his dishes
Rain will shower milk to their bath and
Clouds will come to wipe his wet
Breeze will serve as his maiden to blow air
There his son will smile as Prince of the world
Sun will come and raise him from the bed and
Larks will play wakening notes to his wake up
There he stops his poem and goes
to have his own meal from his broken pot
He saw his sleeping son from that corner and
Pleasingly went to his bed with peace
Categories:
bangle, fatherson, smile, son,
Form: Free verse