Our Opossum Has a Strong Propensity for Crime
By Frank Daub
Discovered in a backyard nighttime check –
an opossum wandering behind our garden shed.
Pin-pointed face, squinting eyes.
It did not run -- to my surprise.
Only staring, lighted softly by the porchlight.
Little.
Sleek in a white-gray-tan-straight-fur-slicked-down way.
The streets around are not friendly to its kind.
This unfair truth made up my mind.
I should let the shed-bottom harbor it.
This would require: FEEDING.
I decided the feeding plan -- without data-based reference --
would be workable.
I tried every sort of natural vegetable.
Walnuts added when the berries nurtured
hordes of ants --
Not
the opossum.
The dietary effort proved it.
Our opossum has a strong propensity for crime.
Particular it is to nighttime
sneaking forays - for food of course.
(This assured the legality of it for me.)
Our opossum was not particular to dietary do’s and don’ts;
Being just inclined to FEEDING its necessary wants.
The animal had a penchant – not a preference --
an exceeding zest for anything edible.
Incredible.
In this selfish world so cold,
A beacon of light guides the way -
Its compassion’s touch, a hand to hold,
And guide and brighten the day.
With gentle words and deeds of grace,
Compassion heals the wounds others bear.
It sees beyond the mask upon the face,
Showing that someone truly does care!
In empathy and kindness, one will find,
A bond that connects us heart to heart -
Lifting us up with words so kind,
Helping us to navigate life’s art!
Oh, compassion is a gift so fond and true,
A gentle soothing light that sees us through!
Copyright © 2019 by Crystal David John
(Published in my book titled 'Trails of Thought,' which is available on Amazon)
The greatest power hides
in the plain light of things...
a promise kept
is more valuable than coin,
a kind word
can outshine the day,
a helping hand
makes the heavy load
feel light.
These are the spells
that outlast empires,
the soft enchantments
that outlive the loud ones.
I've framed a hundred sunsets
To match the radiance of your eyes
Those ardent, curious browns
That still take me by surprise.
A moment shared beside you
Surpasses hours the waiting brings
My mind's at rest when you are near,
Speaking freely of just anything.
Those small hands, delicate and fair,
Much like kitten paws
Fragile, but still strong enough
To seize my tempered heart.
Your artist's soul, a gift from God,
Your dancing smile, my lightning rod.
MY OWN KIND OF BLUES CAME IN THE EVENING NEWS
SADDESS FILLS MY SOUL FOR NO REASON I'M TOLD
QUIET NOW WIPE THOSE TEARS AS MY EYES CLEARS
THE WETNESS POURS MORE AND MORE ON THIS FLOOR
OF GRIEF BENEATH ME I WEEP SO PROFOUNDLY
AS LAUGHTER COVERS THE SUN TASTING THE WARM
SUBLE AIR NO ONE WILLING TO SHARE IT
FOR I CAN NOT BREATH FOR SUCH A PAIN
I LIE HEAR 80 YEARS MY SENIOR AS I DIE TODAY
FROM A HORRID DEATH OF LOVING TOO MUCH
AND NOW THAT THE FUNERAL IS THROUGH
IT'S RIGHT IN MY FACE HE DON'T LOVE YOU
SUCH A SILLY LITTLE THING HERE LOOKING AT ME
WAITING AND WANDERING HOW GREEDY IS SHE
FOR I TAKE NOTHING AND INHERIT YOUR PAIN
I SWALLOW THE CRIES HIDDEN DOWN YOUR SPINE
AS I CRY FOR US BOTH AS I REAP WHAT'S SEWN
HERE IN THE DEBTS OF PITY HOW CAN I LIVE
IN SUCH AN EMPTY CITY I WHERE OLD SHOES USED
JUST SITTING HERE WEEPING WITH THE BLUES
WRITTEN BY YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN 5-20-2004
2610 PROVIDENCE STREET FORT MYERS FLORIDA
COPING WITH TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY
evening was pregnant with silence
noiseless in eerie quietude
the kind of night ripe for murder
she usually liked walking this path
never felt threatened before tonight
but eight young women were missing
she hesitated when she heard a twig snap
then she began walking a bit faster
hearing another set of footprints catching up
Rendezvous and Little Pooh
eating Christmas pie
says Rendezvous to Little Pooh
want me to stick you in the eye?
What kind of poem is this creepy story?
Asks grandma’s four-year-old granddaughter, Tori.
the horrible kind my folks always read to me said her grandmother.
Probably why nightly nightmares snatched up me and my brother.
Speak with kindness and a gentle heart.
You leave my heart with an agonizing ache,
a rot that hollows me, worn and thin;
yet every vow to leave, I break,
because I crave the anguish you drown me in.
You tear me down to splinters, nerve by nerve,
and leave me trembling where the wreckage lies;
yet still I reach for every wound you serve,
as if your torment were love in disguise.
I drink your cruelty like a sacred wine,
and call it love because I need it so;
each wound becomes another fragile sign
that I am yours and cannot let you go.
The wolves would kill me quickly and be done,
but you return and teach me how to stay;
I learn to chase the loaded gun,
and kiss the hand that pushes me away.
I know the wounds will never close,
that loving you will always leave its mark;
but I would rather live inside your storm
than spend my life safely in the dark.
In your arms I choose to stay afraid,
because I believe your heart hides love within;
pain becomes a small thing when it's weighed
against the chance that you might choose me again.
She kissed my hand.
Worth, acknowledged.
I kissed her's back.
Confused, in part.
No appraiser
Of finest gems!
Softer, warmer.
O! Of a heart.
Refrain from dishing out platitudes
AP: Honorabbel Mention 2026
There Are
Two Kinds
Of People:
Here And There.
***
Hi!
***
And We Both Know
What We Are...
Whether We
Like It
Or Not.
You Know.
You Get It.
'Both.'
Too Kind.
-Gray Squirrel
05-21-2026
Tell me the reason behind that pretty smile
Explain why you want to go that extra mile
Perhaps being just friends isn't your style?
When did you realize you wanted me more?
Have you contemplated the challenges of opening that door?
Why do you suddenly want to know me to the core?
Your face hasn't blushed once
I have despite experiencing this feeling serval times before
You hold just confidence, not a drop of lust
This kind of love will last decades darling for sure
Dedication built on respect and admiration mean so much more
This mind seems to be spinning
My steps get a bit unsteady
Your gestures of kindness never seem to end
My stomach filled up with butterflies
I've never felt more alive
Space between us feels unnatural;
I desire you in my arms
to caress your face in my hands
And admire you under sparkling stars
Beautiful smile, beautiful eyes
Your soul is majestic
I could go on forever describing how lovely you are
Your respect and honor bring me comfort
My trust now learns to stay with you
I'm a furry Aussie wombat
I'd like to ask you for a date
And if it all works out
you could become my best mate
Together we'd go bush
where we'd scratch a little furrow
The start of a conjugal home
we could extend and build a mighty burrow
We could feed upon the Aussie native grass
to that menu add some leaves and roots and moss
And if we become a couple
I'd always let you be the boss
I'm regarded as a cuddly kind of chap
who knows we might eventually elope
I would send you birthday cards
communicate by post, in a brightly, coloured envelope
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