Short Flowerpots Poems

Dandelions and daffodils 
Baby's Breath and violets, mix
 
In flowerpots on window sills 
A sparrows nest built broken sticks
 
Cracked open shells, first flights from chicks 
Testing their wings and flying skills

One day they'll learn to make their fix 
A nest for chicks, up in the hills...

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vibrant primroses
in countless arresting shades
bring back the glad smiles

sunshine symphonies
in fields, beds and flowerpots
rhapsodic summer

fragrance from a dream
dreamt in the heart of winter
under the pearl moon

teeming colors mass
for a doomed beauty contest
baffling all judges...

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We would go ghost hunting
in old empty houses,
me and my mate Terry.

13 -year-olds, armed only
with a flashlight
and radio-active acne.

We fed
on each other’s frights
imagined the dead arising
from toilet bowls,
and flowerpots.

Ghouls galloped across
our fevered minds,
backs crawled with thoughts
of blood-soaked talons
reaching.

It was scary fun.

Of course, me & he
had no girlfriends –

no time....

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We wear are days on our skin
Truth seeking pilgrims in the land of the grim
So long ago the winds rustle in,
Lost cities filled with neighborhood friends

We wake up to a day we try and defend
Useless wars we wage to the end
Betting on stars to the bitter end
Cosmic chapters and newest trends 

Hillside views and perfect spots
Mangled up bones and flowerpots
Surface allusion and sandy thoughts
To go on forever or just sound off.........

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My thumb’s not any shade of green
Yet on my windowsill
Are varied plants in flowerpots,
So water them, I will.

Most stay the same; they grow a bit
But really do not thrive,
Although I’m happy just to know
They somehow stay alive.

And yet my orchid plant (a gift)
Has flowered several times
Despite the fact my city home’s 
Not like its native climes.

I watch the buds and patiently
Await their opening
So grateful to them these dark days
For all the joy they’ll bring....

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