Here comes the annual Christmas party
I think I'll show up late -- three hours tardy
The punch will be gone, how sad
I'll miss all the fun, too bad
Some think I'm Scrooge, others call me Marley
overslept
playing on the way to school
Class started
after a while
Opened the door to the back classroom
little by little Opening little by little
while pushing in my head
trying to enter without anyone noticing
I just come face to face
I met the teacher eyes
whole body froze
even the heart
My head jumbled with
"It's too late. Go home. You bastard."
The teacher smiled at me
She pointed to an empty seat
Very lightly like a best ballerina
walked over and sat down
How beautiful was teacher's back
At that time
more than morning sunshine
touched me
Until now the same.
it's the golden hour
young duck swimming afternoon
hard rain patters down
the sun yet shines on
duck revelry in late bath
green river frolic
drought endured so long
but blooms and smiles are coming
I've had days like this
sly shadows belie
early emergence of Spring ~
Punxsutawney sleeps
Tardy tulips delight,
First spotted in early May morning light.
Grape hyacinth clusters muster too,
The energy to push up through.
Warming sun with still cool soil,
Begins the season I’ll happily toil.
Seeds to sow,
Annuals and veggies to grow.
Iris still but bundles of sheaves,
Reticent roses sprout tiny leaves.
Sassy daffodils declare - we were here before
And now open still more.
M. Renee Taylor
5-3-18
So much noise and blindness in fast lanes of lives we lead
When ears can’t hear
Eyes to see plead
And to our destiny we draw both far and near
Dreading to love
Longing to hurt
Fearing to fly on wings of a white dove
And nonsense and gibberish in overdose we blurt
Challenging norms without pause
Closing ears and eyes when convenience says so
Wishing we could pluck a rainbow rose
And hang it on a leash or a lasso
We spin to avoid close contact with sentimental souls
Whose love we shun
In a bid to score winning or losing goals with balls
Whose shape, shimmer and shine pales as the sun
On warms lives bad and good
Equally treated without exception
In words and thoughts often misunderstood
For so long they assume the notion and devotion
Of truth unalloyed
Creed unchallenged
In hearts so destroyed and annoyed
They run the danger to get unhinged
In a world where simplicity is in danger
Dignity cringes in fear
Manners of dress, speech and decorum grow stranger
As normal life sheds a tardy tear on a calabash of bush beer.
The sun is passed its zenith, the postman’s day is done;
Nigh 50 miles his horse has trod, just two thousand
More to go. My little case is a lighter load, much greater
He has born, yet still the postie takes his time ne’er
Pushing on to end of day, nor starting ‘fore the dawn.
Ah, no: ‘tis company policy to travel before the noon
And rest up in wayside inn when sun is high, post meridian.
My goods can wait, there is no rush, full payment has
Been made. No matter if I need it now, the tropic north
Is far away, Brisbane to the south; and Australia Post,
Why there’s the rub, they never really care. A hundred yards
From GPO is outside their next day service, and outer suburbs
Can take a week; whilst thee and me, far, far away had best sit
Back, and settle for the wait.
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