My Aunty Stacey,
She's not very lacey,
She doesn't wear dresses,
Or have curly tresses,
She is never a sook,
But a really good cook,
Tough as nails,
Never fails,
I think you will find,
That she is very kind,
She had a ferret for a pet,
And three dogs are set,
Very happy in her house,
But sadly, no mouse,
She likes to walk the dogs,
Even in the fogs,
Her husband Rio is full of muscle,
And with us he likes to tussle,
Her friend Alisha is amazing,
We play until where hot and blazing,
Aunty Stacey there is nothing you lack,
I love you to the moon and back.
Where are you? I’m at your last known position. Are you whispering in my ear? Crying but a single tear? Wondering if anyone can hear? Spirits who exit the earth, in ways that demand a wider berth, Never can Rest 24 seven. Looked for you 100 times, with volunteers first, then search and rescue pretended friends. Even went on Hispanic TV, for a very short time, to generate interest in thee. Just in case the 18 wheel hearse,headed to ElPaso, crossing the Rio Grande. One thousand dollars, didn’t seem quite enough, to open but never close the book. But dead head loads, need fuel expenses, who cares how high the border fences. Who knew a multi colored why, would on my driveway be drew, for your marker below and in the sky.Because tragedies so easily forgot, shouldn’t be be like sand in the hour glass, hot one day, the next forgot, deja vue, like the biblical lot.
You remember Stacey?
You know, the girl who was trampled in the hall.
Always in detention,
And made to face the wall.
You remember how she looked?
Her clothes gave away the sign.
Her life was not easy,
She walked a real bumpy line.
You remember how we giggled?
When the teachers made a fuss,
Always late with assignments,
Always late for the bus.
Well you should see Stacey now,
All dressed up and lecturing classes.
Cruising in her car,
And wearing those fancy glasses.
I am happy for you Stacey,
Life did not keep you stuck!
Perhaps I can learn from you now,
And pull myself back up!
Super
Talented
Achiever
Creative
Excentric
Young
Marvelous
Awesome
Yurning
Troubled
Indapendant
Beautiful
Beginer
Educated
Traveled
Torn
Selfish
She is the cloud’s savior (coming
like silver linings across a long, and desolate sky);
a violet’s heaven (watching
her purple, while guiding the steps of eager spring feet
away, from the un-noticed)
screaming down like rain upon lipped petals, crying,
“See them! See them!” until
the clouds break, and all there is (and ever has been) to see
is violet against the obvious
and swanky, green border. She is the revealer of truths
through the art of the subtle
fragrance of blunt words, colors, and fruits from her
delectable, ever sprouting vine.
This one’s for you, Miss Stacey Haislop – a prized jewel
on the crown of poetic royalty.
© Kristin Reynolds 5 18 09
WE LOVE YOU, STACE!
I want to fold these words over
and line them up in rows.
I want them to ring and sing
and leave echoes in your ears.
I want to squeeze a syllable
and distill a dream
to lie upon your souls.
I want to plant these lines on your fertile beings
for I know you gentle gardeners will grow them
and happily rest beneath their shade.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.