Short Wheelhouse Poems

Puzzle share
among a pair
shows you care

loving spouse
to spend time
in my wheelhouse 

woven slice
of a life
crafted so nice

Since you took
the time
inside me, to look

my heart
thankful for 
your fixed thoughtful part

2/26/2017...

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I shudder at the dropped ball of life
the layup that was in my wheelhouse
that I punted on 
in favor of greener pastures

think big they say
all the while the little fish 
are floating away
into another's net of fortune

sugar-coating the lost easy-score
no consolation
for my wounded sense of self
until the layup 
morphs into the three point shot

...in at the buzzer!...

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I’ve never learned to tie a scarf
Which makes me quite the fool
‘Cause scarves can make an outfit
Look both chic and really cool.

I stare at women sporting them
Tied in a jaunty knot
And wonder what it is they have
That I just haven’t got.

My mother never taught me
How to carry off, with flair,
A swath of silk around my neck,
So suave and debonair.

What isn’t in our wheelhouse,
Even if it could be taught,
Likely never would be something
We would seek if never sought....

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Morning fog was parting  for the day's performance,
and an audience of just me sat cross legged,
waiting for ghosts.
They appeared slowly, one by one.
Old whalers, freighters and, fifty yards out, 
slate grey bones scarred with burnt sienna,
a young trawler.
A Cormorant dried its wings on the wheelhouse,
primary feathers spread, glistening ebony,
tattered like a tramp's raincoat.
The surf  whispered warnings.

February 4th 2016

For contest 'The Sea shore' sponsor- Craig Cornish...

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