My aunt Pat sewed one for me
She loved my aunt Louise
Neither of them were aunts to me
The frog full of corn still dangles
over a trophy for a marathon of mine
I didn’t win or remember,
but I hope she is remembered more
than what she left me
when I was too young
to see that frogs
and being
are more than uncooked corn
This heart keeps beating
even when I tell it to stop
You deserve more than corn
I cannot count your kernels
to match your character
but I will try for longevity here
while lines match
the strenuous longevity
of my limited kernels;
vocabulary
Autumn's many colorful moons seen through the lens of a camera,
I see beauty and color everywhere.
As a child,
I did not know there was a harvest moon.
I loved watching the full autumn moon,
as it seemed to change colors.
Autumn's many colorful moons seen through the lens of a camera,
have changed over the years.
What has made this change?
The huge night clear sky is not as clear as it once was,
the full bright moon is not as bright.
Do we see the change year after year?
Do we even care?
I weep for the beauty of olden Autumn days,
a more peaceful time.
A bright full moon and clear night's sky,
that was once seen through the lens of a camera.
The summer season
The couple laid on
The lawn chairs staring
Up at the dark sky
It was a warm eve
The full moon was bright
The stars were shining
They looked like diamonds
As they were staring
At the moon and stars
The couple held hands
Content being together
The bond of love strong
Their two hearts are one
If you love something a lot,
you can do amazing things with it,
like a sun that loves the sky so much,
it colors it gold every morning and evening.
Look at the sunflower.
It turns its whole face toward the light,
like it's saying, thank you, thank you,
and that's how the world gets brighter.
When you love what you're doing,
your hands become like little rivers,
they just keep flowing and flowing,
and hard things start to feel like fun things.
A picture painted with love
glows like a firefly in a jar,
though not perfect, but alive,
lighting up the whole dark room.
So love big.
Try hard.
Whatever you make with love in it
will shine.
Brewed with similar ingredients
as when baking bread,
a Maßkrug of beer in Germany
is called a 'glass sandwich' instead.
Yet, as half a loaf
is better than none,
if the glass is half full,
and another half empty,
of the two,
which is the optimal one?
Born the sixteeth of july
Neither of us then to know
The sound of a babies cry
The birth of bambino
With a little button nose
Tiny hands and tiny feet
A struggle to find clothes
Fitting him nice and neat
As he was just so minute
But born a little premature
And he is just so cute
You cant help but adore
Six weeks ,five days early
Neither of us would know
Who we named Zachary
Often called little bambino
Written july august 2015 a tribute to son zack
This original full version of bambino...was not going to out on here at time as felt personal
A whisper, a mere breath ~
tenderness in its many forms.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
I quivered and I dropped my new phone,
who cares if it is shattered beyond repair.
Hot breath on my neck made me buckle,
your effort was completely unexpected.
Who cares if it is shattered beyond repair,
destruction may mend what is broken.
Pain is deftly subdued with skilled hands.
Hot breath on my neck made me buckle,
the tip of your tongue gained you access
to the words I needed to stay confidential.
Your effort was completely unexpected.
Forgive me all this cellular surrender,
I was starving for just a taste of tender.
Weekly Poetry Challenge 50 words Exactly July 27, 2026-August 2, 2026
***********************************************************************************************************
A silent silver ball
On the heavenly sky,
It paints a rounded doll,
Where hidden wonders lie.
The shadows softly creep,
Whispering in the air,
While hidden secrets sleep
Beyond all earthly care.
A balm for weary eyes,
A mellifluous grace,
Beneath the starlit skies
It finds its rightful place.
Sky full of clouds God's stepping stones
They know better, I know less
So I’m fortunate enough
Not to delve into that mess
PMs, politics and stuff
Show up anytime you can
Dear faithful friends of mine
Tell me of your best laid plans
Speak about your latest finds
If my glass is full, I’d listen
If it’s empty, I may say
Please excuse me for no reason
We’re not friends, at least today..
The hillbilly hoe down is in full swing
We are all trying to be crowned the king
We put up our dukes to everyone we see
Jumping into the fray is my Uncle Lee
I am pummeling my brother and two strangers too
One has a red face, the other one is kind of blue
My brother say “hey! I am your bro, you crazy boy!”
“That’s what makes us rednecks, what brings me joy.”
The hillbilly hoe down is held in the holler west.
I brought my own whiskey, my moonshine is the best.
Auntie tastes my barbeque sauce that burns off her tongue.
This hoedown in Tennessee is all kinds of fun!
Red Earth
Red barns
Red rooves
Hold up day time stars
Heavy summer air
Light summer rain
Family farm since 1785
How many have moved off since then
A crystal path I paved
to the realm of futile triviality
along the contorted contours
of the disguised desire
where intrepid roses bloomed
amidst the spiculed cactus,
the scent took me on mirage trail
to the oasis of reverie.
In the motif of morphed image
in my unclosed eyes
the lanced landscape turned
into a garden of glory.
The fringe of flying clouds
captured the colors of horizon’s pallet,
the beguiled breeze conducted
the captivating concerto of twilight
for the ruby moon to rise.
Within my deepening dismay
you in my orbit gleamed
with moonshine grace,
while the floating tinsels of silver dust
fluttered like fairy wings
on your silhouette face.
In mystique night you came enticed,
drifted with argentine flair
in the amorous aurora
of the sequined moonbeam,
lifted the shroud of secrecy,
entered my forlorn abode,
where I dreamed,
I was the full moon in your sky.
the spotlight is yours
stars lose their twinkle power
as you steal their glow
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