Who cares who calls
How to handle balls?
Kidding bidding close near
Sweet woman lovely dear
Slow fast flickering flame
Adult star tacky sesame...
There once was a dog we called Harper,
Not nary a dog could be sharper,
She basks in the sun,
Until the days done,
Then curls up on your lap once it’s darker.
Written with my daughters during our lunch break as we admired our sweet dog Harper!
red sun flares bay-sky
silhouette vine maple
selfie race down beach
1/23/2020
My keys are my ticket to independence,
My phone is contact to everyone I need,
My identity proof is necessary for recovery,
My PCs are my words that I have written,
making me more than I am and more than I’ll be,
My coat will keep me warm throughout the nights,
My photoframe has all my memories of people,
still, and unchanged, yet they all kissed me alive,
My day bag contains my camera and my tie
to artistry and my binoculars. There’s so little
of me that is more than proof of my existence,
most will survive the fire, most will be loved
throughout time, but cash better be inside.
I remember when birds were just plain birds,
and ducks were the birds that swam in the lake.
Binoculars were tools for seeing ballet;
heavy, clumsy, hard to control focus.
Once taught to listen for the call, cheep, bzzt,
and search in the direction for motion
I never went back to being blind, lost
to flutters, fannies, eye rings, and beaks.
Color important as well as tree limbs.
Flight patterns, wing shapes, up and down
were a nuance to food, romance, and love
because you loved the sight and shape, song,
and ever elusive arrival friend
somewhere, mountain, jungle, graveyard or beach
someplace new to join together on hunt
to wipe out work time thoughts and hidden pain
and love the world we live in for each bird
through the short days of our lives on the wing.
The mirage of yesterday shimmers over today,
pearly, dulcet, raining over sunshine memory
with an allure of tones chanted as poetry.
Nonverbal cues, squawks, screams, cheeps, brush
my ears over the crash of waves and the stolen
whispers of conversation I share with you.
If I pivot toward today, six feet gained in earthquake,
large uplifted seashore, risen like spires at my feet,
has shaken all doubts of time travel sameness.
The birds, so delicate, flaring tail or hopping up limbs
flood in flocks of chattering house sparrows saying
take up dream, favor yesterday’s search for birds
and make it sing with an allure of land, heart, mystery
spare consolation of the passing of days, spare
reflection of weather changing, eroding, uplifting.
This is what I would remember, the whale bones,
the Kiwi Christmas tree, the hikes upward into Kanaka
woods, and the sun lifting heat and heart toward future.
My name is my name if you please,
my first name is Sheri as nickname,
my second name is my maiden name,
father given, kept as middle name.
and they work so well together,
the SF initials highlighting my genre
of writing of future dreams and invention,
so sorry to say, I'm only my name
plus my husband's taken for my wedding.
I'd make it more creative but it works
and as a working girl, that had to do.
Let me creatively write but keep sane
my given name, family names married
as a pen name working to keep me safe.
Blank face with scythe
drips sand like frozen blood
cut from my veins a tithe
for my trouble, slammed door
a choir of entreaty, all poor
like the life sap cut, a dud.
How many you demand blythe
shrugs, with a heart's thud thud
demanding youth, live lithe,
when demanded I gave galore
listing softly now, my life outpours
but your face, blank, still, no good.
Once a boy now a man
Morgan Harper Knavery had a plan
To be the first officer in an all girls band
Musically thinking
Began drinking
His risqué coarse obscene informal blue
Ribald improper, naughty and so lewd
Quietly described by first avenue
Now a womanizing flute player
And the woman found him nay-slayer
So they gathered to conspire
To dismiss him by the hour
By impaling him so he would expire
A stupid murder fell on his flute while taking a shower
Alas the senseless murder of this bandmate womanizer
The murder death of womanizer Morgan Harper Knavery
4/17/18
by James Edward Lee Sr.
I know that I can't be there to help
you through your pain But. my arms
are still around you as the tears go
down your face . Each time my heart
is beating I pat you lightly when you cry ,
to let you know how much your papa and
I love you each day that goes by .
We pray that God will Strengthen your pain
in your heart to know that Emily Harper is
with God in Heaven watching over you and
will always be by your side . Although her
time was shorten God's reason Emily Harper
passed away ,for a short time you were her
parents . She knew of your great love ,she
carried it to Heaven with her and shared it
With God , Emily Harper will always be loved .
She passed away on January 30,2016 . Our
granddaughter ,your daughter ,we love you ,
Babegirl ,Emily Harper , Sweet Angel up above .
R.I.P. Emily Harper Rankin ,My granddaughter
A Century have days gone by
Since you last saw the sun did rise,
Embattled weary and forlorn
Another push for King and all.
You’d seen smiles and tears
Dreamt and had wishes for all too few years
Now little you’d realise that on this day
The soul of yours be taken away.
The whistle shrill once again,
Onto a plane of mud and waste
Where for you,
Only death would wait.
The 11th of May was your last day
Roeux seemed not that far away
Dear Harry Edward your future does recall
Your sacrifice for us, one and all.
I saluted you last night
Whilst by the flame which still glows tonight
In your memory I shed a tear
Lest we forget that you were there.
What was so Great
About that War
Which created so many sad mothers
And widows dressed in black
Who found that their own Harry’s never came back.
WITH APOLOGIES TO MISS HARPER LEE
By Roy Merritt
It's a sin to kill a mocking bird
According to Miss Harper Lee
But I'm afraid I'll have to say
I hardily disagree
Because you know them birds
They're a pain in the rear
And if you don't believe that
Just one of them go near
Or even close to their nest
If they got some little chicks
They'll spot you right off bat
And start gettin' in their licks
They'll swoop down like you're a cat
Stalking their tiny sort
And screech like crazy birds
With an awful soundin' retort
They'll put their feet into your head
Having at your hair
And follow you like a fool
As you go runnin' everywhere
And I can't never recognize
What birds they're pretendin' to be
The sound is always terrible
No matter what sound it be
I don't hear no sparrow
Or cardinal or even a jay
I don't know the first darn one
That's all I got to say
So as far as I am concerned
Kill as many as you please
But before you do let me extend
My apology to Miss Harper Lee
I'm so very sorry Miss Harper Lee
So very sorry my dear Miss Harper Lee
I will wait for you
Even when the leaves fall,
When the world has no life at all,
And colors change from blue to grey.
I will wait for you
Here on Harper street,
Inside winters chill
It's here I will remain,
From other comforts I'll abstain,
For the warmth of a lifeless face.
I will wait for you
Here on Harper street.
The last time I heard your voice
Was when you were on the S.S. Charlotte
You said I was ornery
For breaking your computer
I haven't heard from you since
No letters, e-mails, or phone calls
I'm worried sick
But I shouldn't be
Because you're worried about me
And my well-being
That's why you left for the Navy
To protect all of US
Literally the United States
And I am grateful
Godspeed to you, cousin
We're with you all the way
Savannah Rose
Annoying, friendly, caring, listener
Sister of Aaron and Carolyn
Lover of Art class, books, and my friends
Who feels embarrassment, happiness, and love
Who fears loss of friends, family, and chocolate
Who would like to see Journey from 1973, God, And Nephi
Resident of Anadarko,Oklahoma
Smith-Harper
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