Best Matched Poems
I frown into the mirror.
What happened?
Yesterday, we were newlyweds.”
"Fifty years ago," he says.
“You lost half a century.”
There's my husband, slouching
in the recliner, thinning hair,
frayed collar, expanding stomach.
A slow smile spreads across my face.
I sidle over, plop into his lap,
and sling my arm around his neck.
"Remember Great Falls, fishing
in the Missouri River until sunset,
A & W root beer in frozen mugs?
“How about that May snowstorm
in Yellowstone, or camping in Canada,
our sleeping bags zipped together as one?
Or Holder Lake, Bird Woman Falls,
and fishing in a stream no wider
than this chair we’re sitting in?
“Remember our two parakeets,
perched above everything we owned
in that forty-nine Chevy coupe
on the trip home to Missouri?
Or the car, stop-dead in Roundup,
Montana, leaving us stranded
for three days, waiting for parts?
“”I remember that sexy redhead,”
he says. “What happened to her?”
“Not sure, but I think she ran off
with a pot-bellied old man.”
Matched Each Other
While often writing and here waiting
Wondering what my mind should be relating
To some subject which will be the best
People will love forever and never detest.
Why won't poets, a comment try to make
Afraid it may cause much pain and heartache;
Worry them about my poems I have chosen
How poorly is their start as well as closing.
Many prophets and poets prefer profane
But to me this simply is only mundane
Off many walls, paths and out of thin air
With an outrageous attitude of I don't care.
Then there are tanks referred to as septic
Like poems put together that are epic
Unless writer will start paving the way
And preparing us for what he has to say.
We always grow older when age increases
And now can only absorb bits and pieces
So take your time and small doses send
Every thing will start to blend in the end.
Much of this might be subject to debate
How long does green poet have to hesitate
Before we are attracted by his anxiety
Which we have appeased by our sobriety.
Could go on and on and on even more
I like and prefer poem but you deplore
Maybe with my efforts will start to gamble
What is needed for my poems to unscramble?
End up with simple case of pick and choose;
Add more to the deluge and it can confuse;
Will follow each poet's card game golden rule
Look out for loaded deck and don't lose your cool.
Once the ground, you gently start to land
And adorable horizon just have scanned
What came your way was only fair weather
Now that minds and poems are matched together.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
I don't anticipate or expect any comments regarding
this poem. Only one super duper poetry souper will
understand what I am referring to and talking about
and coming from. Won't you?
Miss Matched Eyes
by Cate Rock
His eyes open to me.
His gaze surrounded me.
It astounded me...
Entranced me...
And made me whole.
A soft kiss he placed on my lips,
Such a kiss could bring a girl to her knees,
Yet his firm grip held me.
Arms hugging me tightly around my hips.
He surrounded me in his music...
It encased us in time.
It was blaring...yet perfect I heard every rhyme.
He the equal to a god...
Held me tight...
His missed matched eyes where never a fright.
He was gorges in ever way possible...
If it was possible...
I was in love...
Submission date : 2009-06-16
Well paint me grateful!
So acclaimed
my gladdened heart
In my modest abode
abundance dwells
and I abound in peace
Content to yield
to the universe's lead
All I ever need
readily resides in me
In this belief
my entire trust I lay
The only snag
an itch I can't reach
brings me down
to my knees in prayer
time and time again
For a healing balm
that calms my qualm
A trusty shoulder
to snuggle under
Gentle when I feel
a wee feeble
Kindness in my
moments of blindness
Patience in my
hour of hesitence
An earthen heart
made to match my own
Together we ground
to the belly of the Earth
as one, to get crowned
two sides to the same coin
An ease to our sync
as we chill and shoot the breeze.
The Grace that He bestows,
the love that He is...
The Wisdom that He shares,
the understanding that He gives...
The Comfort that He brings,
the friend that He is...
Can never, no never be matched!
The Light that He sheds,
the way that He leads...
The Mercy that He has,
the pain that He bore...
The Price that He paid,
the blood that He shed...
Can never, no never be matched!
The Works that He doth,
the miracles that He peforms...
The Touch of His hand,
the power in His blood...
The Choice that He made,
the prayers that He hears...
Can never, no never be matched!
The joy that He gives,
the happiness within...
The Shelter that He becomes,
the war that He won...
The Place that He prepares,
the home that we have...
Can never, no never be matched!
Mother Goose met Dr. Zeuss
They circled each other for a while
Mrs. Goose lunged for his caboose
He tickled her wit, then smiled
a valentine's match
my new bed will host a match ~
between Jane and me
He is boorish, churlish, an overbearing lout
my old maiden aunt introduced him all about
he’s my man, she announced, with a giddy shout
they are a matched set, I have no doubt
the dog is muddier than I feel
we are both grimy
gritty
ridiculously filthy
the dog and I
He’s been mudding
I am super casual
in my pajamas for the sixth day
we are a smelly matched set