There’s nothing like a screened-in porch
To help me to relax.
It brings to me a comfort
My apartment surely lacks.
The birdsong and the swishing leaves,
The swaying of the trees,
Combined with the caresses
Of the gentle summer breeze
All add up to such a fine retreat
That, on this lovely day,
Every stressor in my life is somehow
Swatted clean away.
sitting on a screened in porch
in my favorite chair
watching the rain fall
with the one i love
listening to oldies
and some old gospel
and drinking lemonade
and coca cola respectively
on a lazy sunday after
attending the early church
service with a needed sermon
on sitting still and letting God
be Your Heartbeat........inspiration
for tomorrow's next week
Activate the Argument
David J Walker
A one-world lonely drop
One word then two
From a pile of past important papers
Pinned in the permanent ink of
atavistic fears and instincts
picking
three words then four
voices heard
unseen
in a perturbed
rebirth of a past
manuscript
what has she seen
and when did she see it
what did she mean
and when did she mean it
five words
then six
as thick
as an August evening
on a screened-in porch
You explain
I am the path
But not its patron
I am
The Paterfamilias
And not its Matron
Eight words then ten
And it’s over enough to
Start again
Photos of Grandmother
David J Walker
Grandmother has
become a picture
That so few of us know
Things committed to memory
Fall short
A black & white print
Is creased across
the face of the fading image
And even a perfect recall
Of the last summers eve
Shelling peas one evening
On the screened-in porch
Can’t replace all of what we thought
We knew of her
Mosquitoes were singing and
Fireflies were dancing
Kamikaze moths were the true believers
Flying into the 40-watt light
What hymn was Grandmother humming
But the picture hadn’t the slightest idea
And the answer was lost
At the cost of
Distance and time
It seems Grandmother
was a young girl once with
Her own unspoken dreams
Or so it says on the back
Of a photo found in the bottom
Of a box where she is held
captive and expressionless
at age 15
In the picture she seemed to
be waiting to
grow old
The thunder booms; the rain, it pours.
We're half inside and half outdoors.
A screened-in porch brings Nature close
But not enough to overdose.
And so we sit and mix our tiles*
As Nature ratchets up the dials.
We gaze up at the stormy sky
And dripping trees, while we stay dry.
At last it ebbs as we play on
Until the downpour's up and gone.
How cool to watch such changing scenes
Behind the shelter of the screens.
*mah Jongg playing pieces
From gnats and moths and things unseen,
I am protected by a screen.
Mosquitoes land and flit away,
Defeated for another day.
Where once a citronella torch
Repelled some pests, my screened-in porch
Works better for, as you'd surmise,
It's quite a lovely compromise...
I'm not indoors nor am I out.
The breeze dispels each shred of doubt;
Yet insects cannot reach my skin
Or that of others, safe within.
They fling themselves against the mesh
In search of juicy human flesh,
But I'm untouched inside my lair
Unless the screen sustains a tear!
Letting it grow,
it's scratching the
sky.
Under its shadow, I
survive.
Further I climb.
The leaves shown.
I see a deep glow,
not quite a (bright)
shine.
Through the cracks
of the leaves, lines
of light breathe.
Sun Screened.
Half pure yet
un-mutilated.
A full gaze of
half-penetrated
life.
Partly touched by my
grace.
Slightly torn by bad
taste.
Still we watch it
grow.
Still we understand
we all need the same
thing.
A lighter soul, of
unmatched quality.
Bought by none and
bound by nil.
Still we ask, more
often than not-
Have I got it down?
Do we have it right?
Turn to the light,
the lines are
guides.
(And) Follow at
will.
Under shadow I
survive.
Further I climb.
A light does shine
and I bought it.
It's mine.
Thin screened nature
Unable to grasp
Splendiferous structure.
Feel the humility
Glory of the God
Bursts forever
=======================
28th Sept'2013
Dr. Ram Mehta
7th place win in
Contest: Compression poem by nette onclaud
** Syllables checked on PS syllable counter**
In a bright screened in back porch
No bugs can reach my grape juice
The drink is warm as the room
I take in the wine
Russell Sivey
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