Bayles Poems - Poems about Bayles

If you don’t like the weather wait five minutes and it will change. A pitcher has pitched a shutout— he is a hero. You can bet he’s talked about everywhere. Somewhere something is on sale— it was marked up the first day. A song in the background rocks but it is lost in haste. A stitch in time saves nine but old blue jeans are thrown...

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For Angela Voras- Hills As work inches along the highway you’ll be standing next to a field the breeze a song only you’ll hear as it whispers but you remember life’s a song your life a collage of all the experiences your heart holds such joy to behold as the season passes as the passing sun bleeds into the sky as the...

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After Angella Voras-Hills fallen green apples here and there at a dead end, the yard is where in the story lies an ending, the life I lead an illusion a collage along the road of broken houses bathed in light a quiet moment, a lament when the day bleeds into colors and all my realities and dreams connect There is an illusion of light...

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A soft breeze whispered as I stood near a spread of fields where my heartfelt story was told. I recalled the beginning. The middle was unfolding and I didn’t know the end. My assignment of controlling traffic here would last two weeks yet a voice inside said this was where I was meant to be. O, the sky was so blue. A construction crew inched along the highway to...

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Forget the night’s storm when you get out of bed. Forget lightning and thunder the way the house trembled Forget your deepest fears that the world would end, Open your eyes. Embrace the kiss of fresh air. Revel in the sight of the early sun. Welcome the reflections of drops on succulent grass— o how a touch of rain brings new life. (Folding mirror form) ...

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waking to rain remnants of the storm the cat prowls past my bed memories of love stir I’m alone in the silent room my heart beats the sun bleeds through clouds a poetic leap trees sprout leaves to live is to live again trees sprout leaves a poetic leap the sun bleeds through clouds my heart beats in the silent room I’m alone memories of love stir the cat prowls past my...

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sunny day spring whispers outside my window ...

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If Not For morning would be just morning the sun would hide behind clouds stillness would be without meaning the road would lead to nowhere the skies would be without promise my life an empty page ...

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Sunlight leaks through the curtain after I’ve thrown off the covers. Downstairs the television flickers as a roommate sleeps on the couch. He was talking politics last night. I went upstairs and read a poem. This morning I walk into the kitchen and turn off a dripping faucet. The furnace hums to fight off a chill. The calendar says spring as if my life has just begun. I go out for a...

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A friend said a little mulch and planting is what it takes to transform a yard. She bought flowers in spring as a gift to herself. She laid the mulch and planted the flowers around a tree. She cried out for last night’s storm and all life a touch of rain could bring. She said after her divorce every transgression could be forgiven with a little sun. After moving back to her hometown it was time...

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Grey skies in March as I walk through the littered yard. The grass is brown. No one sees me except the man across the alley loading scrap into his pick-up. We talk weather— snow two days ago today mist and rain while we bear the weight of our lives. He says he’s laid off but hopes to return soon. I talk about lost love and an empty heart. We agree we want to...

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sun breaks through clouds as I stand alone sprouts through ground a day in spring the time to live again ...

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Lives of residents collaged as their portraits hang from a gallery’s ceiling and spotlight shine upon their faces. They are old they are young they are boys and men they are girls and women these people who have called a small Iowa town their own. Some have posed in fields some by their houses and they frown or smile their faces offering reflections of the lives they’ve known but in their eyes, I...

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The light is bright as I slip from under the covers yet the house groans and creaks and the ghost of winter lurks within the walls. When I was a child a teacher said first there was light but I remember the night I danced under the cover of darkness. When I go downstairs the sun shining through the window shows clutter, life’s imperfection as I slip from the...

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This day in early March sings in a gust of wind it brings the season’s change life I’ve known rearranged one day warm the next cold nature’s changing moods to behold when each day when I’m awake nature’s tempestuous moods to partake. Talk of the weather brings smiles and frowns what goes up also goes down and as we face our days of strife the next...

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