Best Thayer Poems

Beneath the darkness of heavy hearts,
Tears from nowhere weigh me down,

But I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Merry men,
Laughing tongues wagging,

And I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Lost memories rush in like tides,
Hands throw roses,

Landing like stones above the ground,
What a mighty sound,

Beyond the dark into the...

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she tricked him,
she baited her,
her soft steps,
leaving no trail,

when she ran off,
the only thing they saw,
was her,
fuzzy bunny tail,

her intentions were hidden,
a clever disguise,
masked beneath,
her evil human eyes,

she was determined,
to take them all,
the big ones,
but especially the small,

after all, who could argue,
when the bunny wiggled...

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He Sat On His Favorite Bench,
In Their Favorite Park,
Cracked And Crumbled,
His Eyebrows Knitted Together,
He Leered, 

Sadness Clouded His Features,
He Drew His Lower Lip Between His Teeth,
From Memories,
His Thoughts Clouded,
Fighting Back Broken Tears,

An Old Woman Appeared,
She Gave Him A Dirty Look,
Her Nose Stuck In The Air,
She...

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I love books that have no end,
truth that is hard to bend,
letters I forgot to send,
and reading them again,

unmade beds that invite,
stories I need to write,
eating ice cream with contrite,
knowing wrong is sometimes right,

I love grass that needs mowed,
a garden that feeds my soul,
boots that...

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Below deep snow snug and cozy,

Waiting for winters final bow,

Miss black eyed susan,

Pokes thru nosey,

Her face to love kowtows, 

I Rescue her from the nights chill,

Her beauty will not be still,

In my vase,

On display, 

She sheds a single tear, 

A cry of thanks and not...

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Life has a funny way of smacking you,
not that I'm laughing,
at the sting of redness, 
left on my other cheek.

It is said that karma is,
a word they call a sarcastic woman,
the word that rhymes with,
and almost has the same meaning as witch.

I have waited for...

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Parody of "Casey At The Bat" with apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook was quite brilliant for the high school stud that year—
the senior prom was coming up, and Casey had no fear.
The babe he hoped to take he knew would happily comply,
for Casey was...

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I Love Cotton Candy,
Flowers Still In The Ground,
A Cricket That Makes No Sound,

I Love Clouds That Draw Pictures For Me,
Winds That Blow My Wishes,
A Hand That Holds Hope,

I Love Music To My Ears,
The Way Salt Flavors My Tears,
Silence That Really Can Be Heard,

I Love That...

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(With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer, author of "Casey at the Bat".)

The Mudville nine and Casey have their chance for sweet revenge;
They play today in Dirtburg, their misfortune to avenge.
Two mighty Casey homers have us leading, five to four.
The bottom of the ninth arrives: three...

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The Things I Felt As A Child,
Should Have Never Been Captured,
They Now Hide, 
In-Between Wrinkled Pages Of Poetry,
For Me To Write,
With Years Of Pondering,
A Snapshot In Time,
My Minds Eye,
The Reasons Behind,
I Wanted To Die,
But Lived To Tell,
Me Too.

~Vickie Thayer~...

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She Had More Shame In Her Heart Than Sympathy,

Every Time She Heard A New Born Baby Cry,

Her Tears Were Not Of Joy, 

Nor Of Empathy,

Tears Of Shame Flooded From Her Eyes,

Waves Swelling,

For The Child She Chose To Die,

His Mother Of The Sea,

Lies Barren And Empty,

Her...

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In "The Shootist", J.B. Books is not feeling up to snuff.
He has cancer. What are the concerns
of a man dying.

To die
commensurate with the way he lived his life.
Books dies in a gunfight.
McIntosh dies in the desert, under a broken wagon,
fighting Indians.
Norman Thayer will die of...

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Tomorrow is coming, it always does,
yesterdays gone left in the dust. 

A hungry child dies everyday,
someones mother has cried today. 

Children growing up in poverty,
the tears have washed away his dreams. 

Her belly hurts the food is gone,
Its been many days since she had some....

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twas the morning of Christmas,
when I spied a mouse,
on Christmas Eve,
he had the run,
of our house,
the stockings we'd hung,
by the chimney with care,
suspiciously were, 
no longer there,


the children all jumping, 
on their warm beds,
were screaming for presents,
from the fellow in red,
I was just craving, 
some...

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When I Was A Small Fry,
My Father Would Often Try,
To Tell Us Stories All About Life,
 
One In Particular,
Sticks Out In My Mind,
The Story Of Watermelons And Their Rind,

We Were Told To Never Swallow The Seeds,
That The Watermelons Sweetness,
Is All We Should Eat,

He Informed Us,...

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