Long Doily Poems

Headlights messaged through midnight windows 
Curtainless glass unable to subdue the urgency 
Car obtained in street nearby was theirs temporarily
Three hour drive to ship leaving island next morning

Two sixteen year old girls barely registered surprise...

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Sam woke up all excited, his first circle would take place tonight,
He saw Crimson Fire sat deep into mediation, still as a rock
and noticed the white robes, belts and staffs laid out ready.
He knew from...

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Who am I? I am me, and me is having a little me time
No way!  Five days plus a weekend. 7 days, that’s mine.
It’s not fair. It’s a sin. It’s crazy. No, really honey,...

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The indecision builds 
while staring into the velvet covered bible
and knowing that you have already
read more than was necessary.
Yet you stand and read on and on
hoping that one small word
will shine into the dark crevices
separating...

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She is shadowed by fuzzy cobwebs of a morning without coffee,
while dust motes mingle with the mold of time.
Gazing out to the yard, through dingy glass, and fog, 
into a dismal January, she hopes to...

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f This table Could talk
By: Tom Wright
5/24/99

You say,
It's only a wooden table.
While in a sense, I guess that's true,
but being laden with character and warmth.
It's a table that reminds us of you.

I should think
that each...

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Winter morning light filters through lace curtains,
Reaches down, spills onto the corner kitchen sink,
Through east and south facing windows.
The glass jar, the scrub brush and pad in plastic butter dish,
A down-turned, empty yogurt container,
The pink...

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If Tables Talked
By: Tom Wright
2/4/99

You say It's only a wooden table.
While in a sense , that's true,
yet it possesses character and warmth
much like unto It's previous owners.
I should think that as we dust and polish...

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Man it is bitter cold, and the oar is gone floating down river fast.
My canteen has whiskey, so I take a swig; knowing it has to last.
Where are my matches? I ponder so I grab...

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The old lady down the street has passed
and left no one they could call around;
except her old cat she called Miss Sass
It will take looking before she's found.

Her friend decided on a yard sale.
Mostly junk...

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Three-Legged Table

As I drove through an old neighborhood, I spotted a garage sale sign. 
I pulled off to the side of the street. With impatience, I couldn't get out
of the car quick enough. Right in...

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Every Sunday afternoon I was invited to Auntie's house for tea
outside where the sun shone like a thousand crystal watts 
a lovely table set for two, plus two wicker chairs of white
every Sunday, we would...

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Perusing the tea, what it brings, vitality, refreshing, or tranquility.

tea’s altruistic -
the elixir gives itself
to succor ailments

I warm leaves up when my hands and feet are icy cold. The boil arouses my expectations. The raucous...

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I thought we were happy he said.
Because he was happy.
He had given up nothing.
He had his hunting, fishing, and trapping.

His wife had her cooking, cleaning, and housework.
Surely that was more than enough to make her...

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The sky emits a shroud of white
That deftly coats the ground
As if by magic, nature paints
And never makes a sound

No sound comes forth from frozen ground
Nor ice cold gentle breeze
A searching eye confirms the fact
There's...

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long legs looking
lace & doily,
fit for grandma’s
china cabinet
& just as porcelainesque
in perfectly painted lips
& an inanimate gaze,
but there’s nothing of pre-sexual
purity in those long legs
looking lace.
lascivious my thoughts left 
her walking by thw window,
watching my...

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You give me a smile that only comes from you
I smirk in my dreams, understanding it fully
and what it means to us, my body and me

upon awakening I realize it had been six years
since I...

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Sister Moon in afternoon slumber,
you await your moment of awakening;
I see you reeling in early evening sky and 
I am awed by your transcendental splendor.

Time has marred your lovely face but, 
you are still the...

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Pink sixties floral design on the back of this snail so gay,
I look and ponder, wondering who owned it once upon a….
Was it an older woman, with snow white hair and wrinkles
Or a young girl...

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scoops of mid - dawn sun greet my fresh skin
touching laces of buttered stems, infant leaves,
soft-boiled branches threaded doily thin
on herbs of morn's scented face with tender weaves

how intangible this soft fire in my belly’s...

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A superpower some claim it to be.

Turning yarn into a cardigan or doily.

Click clack go the needles in a flurry.

Beginners wonder why the hurry.

“Onto the next project!” we say.

Although we started two more the other...

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When spring is like the dawning sun
through frosted panes anticipate
the morning after winter's done.

In vernal womb where life's begun
the anxious babes of summer wait
when spring is like the dawning sun.

Another lace of frost is spun,
the...

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      Aves above, meadow below, secret catacomb
      Scattered labyrinth accommodates as garland 
      Armour of thorns reborn as cordial yellow...

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delicate lace linked by crochet
labyrinthine stitches a doily a day

counted by repetitious candlelight
motherly hands of preponderant foresight

twisting and surrender of silent threads
tucking each one into intricate spreads

lovingly lace reflects persistence of face
a warm cosseted Victorian...

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No one knew where Faerie Godmother lived, but we had our suspicions.
About a lady down the road whose taffeta skirts were always squish’n.
Pearls and whistles are on her clothes and she saunters when she moves.
There...

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