Short Garth Poems

Flowery garth seems
as a fairyland, where a
red rose bloomed for you...

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Samuel Garth ' DISPENSARY'

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Cash, Willie, Cline, and a
Coal Miner’s daughter sang
Classics with "Dolly" twang.
Crossover Taylor Swift,
Conway with Twitty wit,
Clint Black, Garth, Strait, McGraw,
Carrie, Blake: Love them all!

Oct. 14, 2020
for Joseph May's Pleiades 2 Poetry Contest...

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This is a little tribute i wrote for Garth Brooks..




In another's eyes i'm learning to live again
as the midnight sun arises the fever sets in
the thunder rolls and my thoughts drown in a longneck bottle
what i would do to make you feel my love again
as im standing out side the fire with unanswered prayers from 
that summer that we shared.....

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Garth Brooks, a wonderful singer is he.
He sways the crowds with his melodies.
The youngest of six, he began
his career by listening
to songs from Country’s greats.
To emulate them
became his quest.
Three cheers for
Country’s
best!

© 2013 Connie Marcum Wong

Note:
I watched a T.V. Special staring Garth Brooks last night and it was
simply the best. I hope some of you watched it too....

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Two Nil.

I sit and watch the children
playing football in the street.
Look at me, shouts the referee
who runs with two left feet.

I'll get the ball shouts Lee Mac Call
I'll put it in the net.
Two Nil, shouts Bill, as it begins to rain
and everyone gets wet.

The whistle blows at half time
two goals as the ref shouts break for all.
Then in second half pass the ball to Garth
and let him try score a goal....

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BRIDGES

There are those problematically  structured:
Garth Brooks had burning bridges “one by one”,
London’s was always falling down, ruptured,
Paul Simon over troubled water would “lay him down”.

But there are also excellent bridges in no peril:
Like those of  Madison County
Peopled tenderly by Eastwood Clint and Streep  Meryl,
And those in Paris under which the bounty 

Of Edith Piaf would make your dreams come true....

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Heavy, golden days of August calling,
Wisper to my first age: a garth so sweet,
A blasted orchard with petals falling
to Earth corrupt, where dust and love may meet.
I stop there, in an endless summer's day,
Safe in Demeter's fruitless garden.

But I must remain in this siren's hell,
Shut up in Eden by Keats' lie.
This opiate past is Morgana's spell,
So etherised in a hollow I die,
Deceived and mad a Merlin base,
The idiot bastard of a shameless race....

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