The Days Come, Warmer
Time has ammassed the many aspects of me,
Which I then collect, design and tatt
Into delicate lace edgings for my aging, and which I then
Lay out into rings around the bases of tree trunks
To become splendor again, anew across the landscape
— with the fragrance of lilies — orange, yellow, purple —
Bursting their blooms through the darkened earth
Beside the already growing roses, asters, peonies and hostas —
To celebrate meeting a new season of warmth in the forest;
Awaiting evensong, to grace this day’s ending work and memories
With the birds flocking, circling, singing out overhead
From here to the horison’s moonrise.
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(c) sally young eslinger 5/12/2023
Trees shed leaves
A mother sheds her tears and sweats
Trees lose their glories
A mother loses her youth
Trees offer a dappled shade
A mother offers protection and love
Trees leave baldness and rings in their trunks
A mother leaves an everlasting memory and a precious love
In her children's heart
Abandoned Trunks And The Children
There laid the empty gray trunk;
never to hold a thing again.
There in the blood-wet soil,
a sadden decaying lump.
Dead and no longer in life’s pain;
lifeless—no longer in earthly toil.
Gone are the rumbing fun echoes
and self gushing joyous showers;
Leaving only keloid ivory memories
to be as tombstone flowers.
Thus is the sad eerie fate
of a great regal elephant;
A victim of greed’s sake—
and man’s pleasure hunt.
Ironically–in schoolyard-like graves–
in the brightness of ivory sunshine days,
Our children–like joyful trumpeting elephants–
have become victims man’s ongoing pleasure hunt:-
untitled HAIKU, July
spring passed in hospital
at home my things sorted in eight trunks —
am I dead?
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(c) sally Young eslinger
Poems are treasure trunks
containing...
Mirrors that reflect the soul
Pop-up books that surprise us
with unexpected truths
Love letters never sent
and those received
Exotic salves to heal emotional scars
Signs that make one stop and think
Notes reminding us about who we are
and where we came from
Guides to the future
Reminders of the past
Keys to happiness
A fellow from the south of South Africa
Waltzed around in a skirt made of taffeta
Some thought he was strange
With his long curly mane
A lump in his trunks proved him male to the maxima
A fellow from the south of South Africa
Waltzed around in a skirt made of taffeta
Some thought he was strange
With his long curly mane
A lump in his trunks proved him male to the maxima
© Jack Ellison 2015
In Florida one right hot summer
A free soul was havin' a bummer
So in spray painted undies
Next holiday Monday
He split to the Springs with his rummer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Equally inspired by a net(te) comment and the lovely natural resources in North Florida
Bronzed hunk on the beach
Trunks falling, the girls screaming
Oh my, man oh man
Written for Katherine Stella
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life2.php
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