Long Out the window Poems
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Halloween eve shadows the day
and costume creatures begin to stray
Out with their bags for that candy lust
Houses decorated with holiday fuss
Scary spooky and jack o' lanterns everywhere
hoping for little children to scare
Kids and adult dress in Halloween fashion
with the scariest costumes the passion
Walking house to house, knocking door to door
gleefully shouting Trick or Treat for the candy to pour
Into their treasure bags the candy gold
so full they drag to heavy to hold
But one house the children know
its' reputation told and retold
Don't go there the candy is bad
the kind of candy turning joy to sad.
It is well lighted and decorated fun
but the candy they treat is ho hum
New comers go there and knock on the door
Shouting Trick or Treat for candies implore
An old fat man opens the door with a big bowl
of candy so bad they can't even be stole
Yep, little bags of old candy corn
circus peanuts, hard candies foreign
Neco Waffers and a stick of gum
He smiles as he offers you half wrapped Dum Dums
Slowly the kids back away
In shock by the bad candy he displays
Soon they turn around and run
screaming as he tosses them Dum Dums
Oh well he sighs as he closes the door
for next Halloween the old candy he stores
He locks the door and pulls down the shades
peeks out the window for any kid a stray
Off with the porch light and he settles down
Kids today his thoughts profound
Comfortable he sits and reaches for the other bowl
with Reese Cups, Kit Kats and Snicker bars it overflows
Can't let all this good candy go to waste
alone in his house he stuffs his fat face.
Aunt Marta’s instructions blew out the window
Seconds before I got to her home in Glasgow.
I knew I was on the right block, but which one was she?
I heard a tiny mewing kitten, who tried to lead me.
Who is your mistress? Could it be my Aunt? I asked.
Scooped up wiggling scared kitten, no dauntless task.
Aunt Marta came to greet me at her gate with a cat.
I was worried, she said, wondering where you were at.
I handed the kitten over and began to sneeze.
Maybe it is all the flowers, pollen on the breeze.
It’s probably the cats, she said leading me into the house.
With hundreds of kittens, I doubt that she has a mouse.
Planning our future while residing in an Ivory Tower,
Could endanger its very foundation,
As you will be relying on information,
From People you have never met,
Whose qualifications you may regret,
Not having personally checked.
Residing in an Ivory Tower,
Tends to cloud one's judgement,
As you look out the window at mist that never seems to clear,
That looks no different than smog.
That model showing what your grand plan will look like,
That sits in your office 40 stories up,
Looks quite different to those,
Who live on the ground,
Where the Sun seldom bothers to shine.
So, if you are planning to,
Go down in the lift any time soon,
Don't be surprised if you find yourself,
On the surface of the moon,
With your space helmet,
Left behind in your room.
She notes how the days
have grown shorter.
A cacophony of grackles
near a cornfield fills the air.
A farmer across the road
walks along his field
checking his corn before harvest.
Leaves rustling
in the wind sing.
The construction crew
has passed her driveway.
She asks the flagger to
help her daughter across.
The school bus arrives
late afternoon. Lights flash
She rushes onto the porch
and hugs her daughter
who wears a backpack.
The mother notices
the sky is gold
as she looks out the window
and cooks supper on the stove.
Her daughter sits in a chair
hands folded on her lap.
So good to see her daughter
she thinks after letting go
in the morning and waiting
for a late afternoon embrace.
The meadows along the mountainsides
In glorious flowery bloom
Colours oozing, insects buzzing
Out the window of my front room
The chirping sounds of the birds
Orchestral voices on the wing
Serenading, communicating
What a joy to hear them sing
To the left i hear spring waters
It's trickle has become a flow
The winter has come and gone
As the sun melts the virgin snow
The vista of crisp blue sky
Quilts the scenes above
Whilst a bird of peace coos
A most brilliant white young dove
If you live beside a mountain
Please take the time to view
No better array of nature reborn
By her grace, it's for me and you
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-5.php
It's the summer of my third year.
Dad is driving us to the seashore.
The sun follows us, a happy fellow,
beaming in the mid-morning’s azure sky.
In the back seat with my two sisters, I’m looking out the window
as I crunch on Mom’s homemade salty Chex Mix,
anticipating the warmth of salt spray
from the waves I’ll be jumping on this beautiful day -
Life is a beach not yet even in my vocabulary.
We are now at the shore, a large blanket laid out,
Mom with her bright red hair tied back with a brighter red check scarf,
and my dad, dark-haired and handsome, smiling.
So rare is this happy countenance he wears today!
For a while I sit as if entranced, watching the waves roll in.
But eventually, and predictably, my joy ebbs like the tide.
Dark clouds are gathering; gray begins to envelop the sky.
I look over to my dad; the gray has recaptured his face.
In the vanishing sunlight, familiar dark thoughts invade my mind -
Dad, can I see you be happy just once for a whole day?
Rain . . . always it rains when we go to the seashore.
I remember you....how can i forget?,
The one who wanted no recognition and had no regrets,
I saw into your eyes what i wanted so dearly,
What made no sense to me then i now see so clearly,
It was a peace i couldn't understand until i walked away,
Until i understood the passion in my heart everyday,
Who was i living for the whole time,
I was constantly pouring out my heart n my life,
And now....i see,
More than what i thought could ever be,
Trusting every moment with Him by my side,
I cant even recognize my own eyes,
For most of my opinions are thrown out the window,
I remember always trying to figure out tomorrow,
So thank you for your eyes, your heart, and your life,
You set an example that opened my eyes,
The definitive nice guy and so friendly;
Slow to burn, he coasts life easily.
A true gentleman of the first order;
And free as bluebirds on the Spanish border!
He's my brother; I have no other;
First sunbeam of my mother.
A natural born comedian to be exact,
Though not many are aware of that fact.
Long ago, as Superman, he held me spellbound;
Flew out the window and hit the ground.
Luckily he fell from the first floor;
But Mama ran panicked out the door.
Sunny days with cousins and off to the show;
The early, early days-how late did they go?
The St. Louis days, with Mary Jean and Ardell;
And the ringing of our old school bell?
Steve's a hard worker, and calm as peace.
Wildflowers radiate life and increase;
After harsh winter comes a regeneration;
Steve was the first of our generation.
twas the night before christmas
i was alone in the house
off in the bedroom
unbuttoning my blouse
while drawing the curtains
i heard a big thud
peered out the window
to see santa donned in mud
without hesitation i threw on my robe
rushed across the floor
then missed every step
as i ran for the door
outside on the lawn, there he just laid
binoculars still hung on my tree
it appears that old santa
had been watching me
i'm not sure if he was sleeping
or out for the count
but christmas couldn't be canceled
not on my account
so i ran to the rooftop
and jumped in his sleigh
in hopes that i could somehow
save christmas day
with the reindeer still laughing
and i in my robe
we flew off in the darkness
and circled the globe
so if you thought you saw santa
adorned in hot pink
just know that it was i
and not what you think
November 28, 2019
Winter! What beauty and pureness unfold
Snow so white, falling like the rain in spring
While some embrace this, others say it’s cold
But this is the season to have a great fling
Dancing and eating, come friends, lets sing
Everywhere the sound of snow bells ringing
Children peeping out the window lips stuck to the pane
Front yards decked with snowmen, icicles dripping
Pull out the snow sleds and toboggans lets go insane
Lets forget about the season when we had wind and rain
Lovers walking to the café, hand in hand
All bundled up, knee high boots, scarves around the neck
Soft and gentle music playing by the in-house band
Nice and cozy on the inside empty chairs on the deck
Her cheeks all rosy, he cups her face and on her lips plants a peck
For 'Welcoming Winter' contest by Carol Brown