Long Brown haired Poems
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Where lilacs bloomed, I spied a brown-haired child.
She, riveted by what was in her book,
did not see me! She wore a wistful look.
I guessed her to be somewhat shy and mild.
The girl at last looked up and showed surprise
to see me standing there to study her.
What happened after that is now a blur,
but I recall she had my same light eyes.
Where lilacs bloomed, I’d sat against that tree
while reading. Was I then inside a dream?
A woman startled me. Why does it seem
the woman who appeared that day was me?
Sept. 15, 2018
for Dear Heart's Enclosed Rhyme - September, 2018 Poetry Contest
LIFE IN ACORNISTAN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There once was a brown-haired squirrel named Stan,
the charismatic, electrifying mayor of Acornistan.
His fur held a most strange zap
“We’ve got to do something ASAP!”
His advisor suggested, “Call in the g-man.”
They summoned a blind man from Bhutan
‘You’re fur’s gotta go,’ he said, his face deadpan.
‘But like Samson, I’ll lose my power
To this static I shall never cower!
You’ve got to have another gameplan.”
‘Maybe some crème rinse or a bit of Dippity-Do*
will eliminate the static from your furry ‘do.’
‘Dippity Do,’ Stan exclaimed. “Just who are you?
Go back to Bhutan, you silly man. Shoo! Shoo!’
‘Stan decreed. ‘No static in Acornistan. Static adieu, adieu!’
Sitting inside a local coffee shop,
Just a brown-haired girl with glasses and a book.
Sitting alone, hands wrapped around an ivory-colored mug filled to the top with piping hot coffee. Her brown eyes watched the wisps of steam rolling off her coffee, slowly disappearing into nothingness.
The coffee shop was her getaway.
That comforting scent of fresh coffee beans with a hint of vanilla.
The music melting into your soul, indie music engulfed the room.
Closing her eyes, taking in the soothing moment to keep under lock and key in her memories.
With each sip of coffee, this moment was engraved into her memory for life.
Valeria Valdermare once was a young ballerina who coveted a pair of red ballerina shoes. Oh! how she truly longed to grow up to become a prima ballerina! But alas! She was last in her class. All of her peers sneered and ridiculed her not only to her face. But behind her back in her absence. She possessed neither beauty nor grace. How could she continue bearing her heartbreaking disgrace?
Valerie worked harder and longer than the other ballerinas in her age bracket. Her teachers and their assistants took pity on her. They wanted to have her parents discharge her. Why should they waste their hard earned money on more lessons? Maybe Valeria should try something simpler by becoming a book worm? She certainly did not have any athletic nor dancing abilities!
But Valeria had a secret weapon. She had her very own fairy godmother, Blue Morning Flower. Her charge Carnation Pink Mayflower, was a younger fairy godmother of her exact age. It was Carnation Pink Mayflower who was awarded the higher honors.
When Valeria laid sleeping in her bed, Carnation Pink Mayflower. Tap her brown haired crown three times. Proclaiming each time,"Valeria, your wish has been granted unto you." Valeria dreamed she saw her in her nighttime visions. She had always believed in both fairy godmothers and pixies. Her parents never tried to get her even once to change her mind.
The next morning, there was a carnation pink wrapped present besides her princes' bed. She discovered her coveted red ballerina slippers. Grabbing her presents in her small hands. She ran downstairs and showed them to her astonished parents.
The next ballerina class session, Valeria put on the red slippers. When they began the practice warm up routines. Valeria noticed the difference they made. What used to be very difficult became easier. Her dance routines were also vastly improved. She astonished her whole class! How they envied her red ballerina slippers! Her childhood dreams of being a world renowned prima ballerina had just come true! She would dream and dance in bright colors!
Love as always,
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
June 01, 2020
***Inspired by Hans Christian Anderson's "The red shoes."
“It’s in there!”
The frizzy haired woman insisted with mirth in her eye.
“But, how?”
I asked beseechingly.
She gave a mischievous laugh from impish lips in reply
And then skipped merrily on her way.
The most precious thing I ever lost
Contained in a small puzzle box?
Ridiculous!
I paused.
No, I knew what the lady said to be true.
I could hear the enchanted object
Whispering to me
In an unfamiliar language
That my heart somehow understood.
I was missing a precious commodity.
Something very special.
My memory could only see vague outlines.
However, I was confident
A magnificent treasure
Lied within the small chest.
Now focused,
The mystery of unlocking the chest came naturally.
With greedy eagerness
I quickly opened that which held me back
From my forgotten prize.
And . . .
The chamber was empty
Save a simple unframed mirror
Taped to the inside of the lid.
I remembered the woman with a playful smile
And thought,
“Is this a woeful attempt at a joke?!”
I started to seethe
And my face began to contort
Then I saw my reflection.
Memories of loss
Due to anger, regret, and missed opportunities
Cascaded into my mind.
Were these my most precious valuables?
Did I now consider these thoughts so I could make changes?
Or did I recall them to realize that they made me who I am today?
Both or neither!
It didn’t matter.
It was simply the past
On which I didn’t dwell.
Again enraged,
I shook myself from my stupor,
tore the mirror from its place,
and threw it shattering to the ground.
“So, it was a trick.” I grumbled.
And was just about to curse
when a glint from box caught the corner of my eye.
Upon closer examination,
Behind where the looking glass once stood,
Was a simple etching that pierced me with a penitent knife.
“I heart Jenny”
Jenny.
Jennifer.
My sister who passed away
When I was the simple age of five.
A beautiful brown haired brown eyed teenager
With a kind smile and the most incredible soul.
Cancer.
Had it really been over four decades?
Too few memories and too little recollection over the years.
Now, I recalled.
Feelings as much as details.
Love and peace.
I made a commitment to myself.
To never lose sight of that which was most important again.