they’re made for walking
Nancy Sinatra
red ones on toddlers
mud puddle jumping
hookers tall fashion
freezing leaking
winter snow boots
cowboys go-to
Irish clogging
loud running
clip clopping
line dancing
stomping
tromping
boots
Kindergarten students in Miss G’s class rushed right in
Clapping, smiling, stamping, tromping, stomping, laugh’n.
They loved that she had transformed their door into a gingerbread house.
One of them began chanting “not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse”.
Kindergarten students love it when you go the extra mile.
Their enthusiasm that day made Miss G clap and smile.
Two more weeks until winter break, she announced to them.
“Can’t we move in here with you?” asked a little guy named Jim.
Cats in costume on an October Halloween
Dressed as robots, dogs, and a beauty queen.
Tromping along in a line, from door to door.
Smelling their chocolate candies, but wanting more.
Why don’t they give us sardines? One kit doth ask.
They cannot afford it said her pal in a butterfly mask.
How about pizza with anchovies? She does suggest.
Snickers and Reeses, says another who likes them the best
Fancy dancy unicorn friendly cowgirl boots
Stomping tromping riding along on shoots
With glitz and spritz and things that make me smile
Kicking and tricking up things on this country mile
I see you coming and I laugh at the things you do.
All feminine and girly, showing up every ballet shoe.
whirlwind of spectacular sounds
elephants tromping through, ears flowing
continent made of diverse dialects
zebras striping the horizon with color
countries with their own flavors
Africa God's own quintessential tapestry
Homer, moses and a winged god too
Pegasus shrugs his shoulders and flies to the east
Frightened of both Zeus and Jupiter
Unprecedented night terror in the museum now
Paintings turn their faces to the wall
Fearing the unknown
Which has been birthed in the gold room
Midas arrives at midnight to urge the throng
They begin tearing up the old masters’ works
Artist’s worst Armageddon
Taking no prisoners
Slashing and smashing
Stomping and tromping
Demented devils delighting in this furious frenzy of feelings
A Threat of W A R
So weep, dear world, as
The bear advances.
The bear with his trainer named Putin,
Loved by none, now not even his own.
So end your roar, dear bear!
As Putin thrills to cause disarray,
Loving his terror — that weapon
He’s loosed again, yet again —
On the world’s lesser…
His finger on a trigger,
Making the world tremble…
Against all sense, all reason,
Whipping the bear forward
Out of his rest,
Resisting, but
Still tromping forward, growling
And the world wailing.
Stay struggling, dear world,
To keep the mystery of peace working
Against more than a war to end all wars:
A war in these days, which would become
A war to end our world.
———————————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger 1/24/22
If I was gone people would pretend they knew me
They would come to the house and annoy my husband.
He would keep the door locked and not let them in
The dog would bark her disapproval.
If I was gone they would tell jokes about me.
They would embellish the truth, so it would be funnier.
I would be sitting in the eaves, listening,
so I could correct them if any of us got to heaven.
If I was gone they would tear my house apart.
They would burn all of my paintings.
They would dance and sing around the bonfire.
They would debate cleaning my house.
If I was gone I would not care.
I would turn my back on this world
And go tromping into the next one
Or the next life, for I do not think any of us
Is ever truly gone.
I kept the stegosaurus hidden because I do not trust neighbors
They call if the cat jumps over the fence
Police have been here twice about me putting my garbage out
ten minutes early
I bought Steggie off a pirate who did not have much background information
I do not care; he is the best-behaved pet I have ever had
He mows the lawn, and he does not hop all over people like the baby goats did.
The neighbors were always calling about those two!
What do you have back there? My great aunt Louisa asked, peeking out the window.
I said, "fat dog".
All I need is a bunch of newspaper reporters tromping around.
When you live like a hoarder, it’s best to keep your stegosaurus a secret.
That way, he can come inside when the weather gets colder
And the health department will be none the wiser.
“What a pretty dog!” Aunt Louisa said, calming my fears.
Tromping through the trenches of life
We have to emphatically make ourselves fall in love
Over and over and over and over and over again
For we begin to fall out of it if we do not make it a daily mantra
We must polish up our weapons, and have them at the ready
Enthusiastic gleaning of things I Ioved about him in the first place
All of the wonderful things he has done for me year after year
I take out the photo albums and reminisce
We get our orders from the big guy in the sky
Who wants us to honor our commitment,
We fight for our union,
the one we pledged we would honor forever.
We are soldiers of love.
Reply to Spring
The dazzling darkness coming down the mountain
breathing and tasting… --in Spring by Mary Oliver
Stomping on crispy maple leaves
The air is wet
I pull my jacket closer
Tromping through the leaves
I breath in calmness and
Breath out hope
The cars are resting ahead
No mind
I wonder how I will scratch through the pines
Back to walking in the mountains
When all I see is bare and silent.
Red juicy apples lying across
round pumpkin fields
terrifying the scavengers
Black yowls
dusting up the corn rows
Softening up the cats
Hallows Eve
Waiting around the corner
Eager to shake up the spiders
Witches
Stirring October’s brew
In apple tree cauldron
Trick—or-Treaters
tromping from house to house
scared of nothing
Halloween Magic
Tickly Prickly lying on her favorite branch
Can hear the large animals tromping through wet leaves
Does not concern her in the least
It is her autumn day nap, her autumn day nap
Tickly Prickly enjoying the sky,
On her back, looking toward God’s home
Can hear the songbirds trilling their truth
Smiles as she sees one, during her autumn day nap
Tickly Prickly’s eyes close gently.
She is dreaming of her favorite angel, Marabelle.
Wondering when she will be getting back to see her again.
Songbird swoops down. Tickly Prickly wakes up in Marabelle’s arms.
Rough and tumble
Playing tricks and having fun
Picking on pig-tailed girls while
Tromping through the snow.
Boys are like that, yes they are,
Full of vinegar and mischief too.
Climbing trees and falling down
On unsuspecting human beings.
Picking green apples all day long
To munch until their bellies cry,
Rolling in the dirt with laughter while
Finding bugs to chase the girly-girls.
Rough and tumble they may be,
But when harvested men full grown;
Brothers are loving, loyal and protective
Turned into strong good men through and through.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
I am stomping mad, tromping mad,
ready to slice and dice the cad,
Angry and a tiny little bit sad
because she was so amazingly bad.
Wait a second.
My sane self interjects.
Isn’t what you heard a little suspect?
What if the messenger is the one
who likes to stir me up because it is fun?
I get to the bottom sweet and quick.
Follow the lies through the thin and the thick.
I do not remember who told me, the fourth one says with grit.
I will wait, I respond. Now I know who, but will she admit?
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