A dusty lid neatly tucked away,
beneath the bed where shadows play.
It holds a map and locks of hair;
folded hankies perfumed with care.
Each pressed edge and velvet bow,
recall a life from long ago.
The hinges beg to set them free;
my shoebox full of memories.
Embroidered
Lacy
Dainty
Borrowed
Bridal
Blue
Oversized
Plaid
Daddy’s
Grandma’s
Perfumed
Sneezing
Memories by Hankies
linger-longer
wait-a-while
to perceive
the cadence in a smile
echoing a beat of heart
in a chest of draws
with namesakes
hidden
under the knickers
hankies
scarves and socks.
Laura is a shopkeeper
Who’s selling many things
From a plastic dovalacky
To brilliant diamond rings
She’ll unload on anyone
Just anything that’s handy
An umbrella coloured blue
Or sticky sugar candy
Incase your feeling teary
Hankies you can buy
Or maybe feeling hungry,
Ham sandwich she’ll supply
Looking for one item?
Coming out with more?
Probably now you’re penniless
From entering Laura’s store
Hankies
Hankies grow best in
damp acres.
Always Prepared
Ready
Freddy
The Untamed
Feral
Ferril
What’s in Frankie’s Pockets?
Frankie’s
hankies
Patriotic Guy
Yankee
Frankie
Of the highest Quality
Fraser’s
razors
Small Eater
Grazer
Frazer
The Warlock
Pagan
Fagin
The Brilliant One
Star Glow
Fargo
Something’s About to Happen to Him
Herald
Gerald
Poet
The bard
Gerard
The Mimic
Parrot
Garret
Who Needs Pudding and Pie
Georgie
Porgie
Good Grief!
Lordy,
Gordy!
Best Things in his Garden
Gerrett’s
carrots
The Stoic
Steely
Greeley
What People Always Say to Him
Really,
Greeley?
The Generous One
Sharin’
Garen
Thrill Seeker
Gnarly
Harley
So Angry
Snarly
Harley
Embittered
Soured
Howard
Not Brave at All
Coward
Howard
What’s in Henny’s pocket
Henny’s
Pennies
The Pest
Vermin
Herman
What Herman Gives Each Sunday
Herman’s
sermons
Why Can’t He Just Stay Home?
Roamer
Homer
Better Than Ice Cream
Sherbet
Herbert
Get Him Band-aids
Howie’s
Owies
Nonsensical
Phooey
Huey
Always Amazed
Wowie
Howie
The Overly Sentimental One
Gooey
Huey
Mrs. Suzie Q. Anteater will take the lead, Ms. Gerbil said.
If I try to take over she might thump me hard on the head.
We did not know what she was talking about, what did she know?
We saw them parading down to town, going kind of ploddish and slow.
I told you she’d take over, Ms. Gerbil’s eyes seemed to say.
This made us laugh a little bit into our hankies that day.
Mrs. Suzie Q. Anteater is the mother of eight or nine.
You’d best do what she says and stand straight in her line.
A Tissue is a paper hanky,
That isn't very strong.
If you have a heavy cold,
It will not last you long.
One nose blow is all these hankies need,
To become useless,
And flutter in the breeze.
Fluttering in the breeze,
Causing ailments and disease.
It is a mortal sin,
Not to throw these hankies in the bin.
ATISHOO!
I watched a sparrow go mad
Right in front of me
It charged a red bush like a bull to a matador
To build a spring nest in November
Head first through the air
It smashed into the branches
Shaking and breaking its tiny bones with fury
Weaving the straw of this insanity
Into something more familiar
Beneath its wings and hoofs
As the summer-like day cooked
The record books
They’re not telling the truth
On Fox News or across the AM dial
Or from the pulpit of Reddit and Energy
They’re just making money money money money money
Maintaining those ratings tithings and paychecks
Audiences waving their white hankies
Ole’ ole’ ole’!
Watch the garden grow, the flowers bloom,
the trees sparkle, laden in pink blossom.
The dew dropped grass, the clear, sunny morns,
Hear the nightingale's beautiful, spring call.
Sunscreen at the ready, sand baked between toes.
Sandals, bikinis, hats sprawled upon the beach.
Dipping in the icy sea, a kayak through the caves.
Surfing at sunrise then fishing for a fry up.
The whisp of autumn's breeze, a flurry of orange.
Crunching leaves in wellys, hunting for chestnuts.
Sunsets dazzling their natural firework display,
Over fields of corn, soon harvested and rolled.
Sniffles in the cold wind, hankies at the ready.
Nights spent cuddled by the log fire in pjs.
Families unite to play indoors on colder nights,
singing songs to mark the turning of new year.
05.09.2020
dainty
prissy lacy
sweet embroidered hankies
pretty Easter hats small white gloves
dainty
Only a father could light up her face
only a father could bring her joy.
Tired as he was, as he plodded to the door
courage stern within.
Not old enough to do better
not old enough to stifle her cries
the day she woke up
and never to see him ever again.
She wept as if the sunless clouds
looked endless and cold
never knew she'd wet her hankies for him
desired story unsought.
Wished a star appeared tonight
from where she sat in his musk-scented corner
she knew he's watching her
she knew she will always be her daddy's girl.
© 2019 Maricris Cabrera
Fire hydrants, fire trucks and firemen's faces
After they have been heated up
Chocolate heart boxes, and the prettiest roses
Some of the most fragrant tulips
Ruby jewelry, all sparkly and haughty
My favorite boots, my checkered shirt, my brick oven
An artist once told me without a splash of red, art is not art
I do not know about that, for I favor orange, which is red with the sun
Red umbrella with orange cats, red dog collar, red french fry holder
Valentines, and Santa Claus, Christmas stockings trimmed in green
Best of all, my mother's red stove in the early 60's
Which no one else bought because all other stoves were white
She did her whole kitchen in red and everyone loved it
Pizza Huts, and Christmas lights; all in reds.
Bulls and red hankies, clowns and red noses.
What would we do without red? How would we know to stop?
Elephant with crooked tooth
and I did not know they had them
Lion cub in drag
funny to everyone but the cabaret master
prancing around in my thought waves
taking me hostage
Duck-billed platypus
with attitude from Hades,
wearing pink top hat
with glitzy yellow band
unnoticed in this parade
of misfits, even by me
Suddenly swans glide by,
piloting Boeing 747’s,
waving red hankies from cockpits.
Where is this picnic anyway,
I ask my muse who laughs
but refuses to answer.
Written April 20, 2019
Contest: Suddenly Swans
Sponsor: Maureen McGreavy
SIGN OF THE TIMES
Stones will be thrown down. The temple succumbs like Lazarus.
Inconceivable evil hurled inside and outside satan’s circle.
Good perceived as bad and the reverse a similar fact.
Noah’s days before our rainy eyes, hankies blowing it.
Other christ, the false one, the devil incarnate arrives.
Feast of beasts will turn the world upside-down in defeat.
Torrential weather, hate and great distress to impress.
Heaven looks on in horror but not surprised.
Evening becomes the norm without moon or stars.
The persecutions worse and worser, God’s children cry, wanting
It to end sooner than later, having suffered and died, blood
Mixes like a cultural conglomerate - we knew the rat race
Eventide, on its plenipotentiary screeching wheel, couldn’t
Survive but for Jesus Christ — His victory secured at the cross.
4/22/2018
The temple in line one is Jesus. In the final line His victory.
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