Out of the blue, into the gray:
why do all things happen this way?
Those who are close stay in my mind,
but out of sight, fall far behind.
The world turns and before I know it, I’ve lost you -
but suddenly, you’re standing there, out of the blue.
----------
A Wrapped Refrain of 6 lines, 8a:8a:8b:8b:12c:12c,
opening and closing with a refrain.
To great applause, I walk the rope -
I’ll stay upon my feet, I hope;
I look below and see no net -
And smile (although my brow is wet).
I juggle, dance and skip, recalling painful falls;
Then ride a bike and sing My Way…to great applause.
On the trapeze, I seem to fly,
The ground beneath me whooshes by,
I catch my partner by her feet,
Perspiring madly with the heat,
I somersault and spin - the effort makes me wheeze;
The show is done, I take a bow…on the trapeze.
For David’s Circus contest
Using the Wrapped Refrain, a form created by Jan Turner
The Vaquero
Create for me a vaquero
With slow walk, loving rodeo
Long rides on cool high mountain trails
Where it's wooded__love never fails
Who rides comfortable as can be
Wrangler who understands..create for me
(Wrapped Refrain)
In honor of Tirzah Conway
A Cowboy Is contest
(Done in a form called Wrapped Refrain)
What vision most inviting I now see before my eyes,
upon this grassy hill beyond which peaks of mountains rise
to heaven’s heights, where clouds are swirled
the pink of an enchanted world!
It’s with great gladness I am drawn
to what appears at break of dawn.
With long hair streaming in the wind, she stands in front of me.
Oh, can you guess what vision most inviting I now see?
How sweet will be our days; she’s come again. And everything
will brighten; birds will sing. Here is mythical Goddess Spring!
Shining, clad in white, midst the wild
bloom, she treads. Lovely woman-child!
And where she goes, a seedling grows;
a soft breeze blows; a new stream flows.
Young hearts are all a-flutter, and the bard takes up his pen.
How blessed our world. How sweet will be our days; she’s come again!
Submitted Feb. 2, 2022 for 'A STRAND (1065)' Poetry Contest
The school I've worked for half my teaching years is feeling more
and more the woes of these hard times. I walk the corridor,
remembering the better days
before I felt this new malaise
which lies inside the core of me
and matches all too eerily
the atmosphere that permeates this hallway and adheres
to all parts of the school I've worked for half my teaching years.
I pray to God I'll never see the end of this old school.
So many came and went, yet I remain. I'm someone who'll
stay put until they close its doors.
Ten years now I have walked its floors,
taught students and had fun with them.
I hope it's not a requiem
I'm writing soon for this dear place, which much like an old friend,
is apt to pass. . . . I pray to God I'll never see the end.
This poem uses Wrapped Refrain type II, a form invented by Jan Turner and shown a Shadowpoetry.com. Posted in 2010, when I first came to Soup. Thankfully, the school is doing better now.
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