|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
Winnie the Pooh and Mickey Mouse
are painted on walls of green.
A maple crib stands in the corner.
It's a picture perfect scene.
There is only one thing missing
in this room so perfectly designed.
The baby was never to take a breath.
You have to wonder what God had in mind.
Winnie the Pooh and Mickey Mouse
live behind an ever closed door.
To look at the would-be parents
you couldn't tell who was grieving more.
Not all plans have happy endings;
some endings never seem to end.
How much sadness can two people take
before they break instead of bend.
Winnie the Pooh and Mickey Mouse
are painted on walls of green
in a room now shrouded in sadness
where no child will ever be seen.
~~~ 03/01/2013 ~~~
Francine Roberts
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
He threw the dart,
it missed the board,
it hit my foot instead.
The next dart flew.
it hit a wire
then ricocheted t'wards my head.
It's a dangerous thing,
the game of darts.
Not for the faint of heart.
"Cause once they're drunk
they miss the board
and try, your hair, to part.
I can add
and I can subtract
so I don't mind keeping score.
But when those darts
miss the board
they don't always hit the floor.
I have scars
and I have bled
from darts, like missiles, thrown.
But if they don't stop
aiming for me
they can bloody well score their own.
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
on the day we met
he brought me orange roses
their vibrant colour
matching the fire in his eyes
I caress the soft petals
in the center of
my love's well tended garden
orange roses bloom
through tears I pick a bouquet
to brighten his lonely grave
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
Welcome , Dear Carolyn, we finally meet,
Please come in , won't you have a seat.
Let's sit on the deck and we'll watch the deer.
There's no need to whisper, they have no fear.
I'm so glad you're spending your vacation with me.
We'll get to know each other over this pot of tea.
I am so looking forward to showing off my home town.
Did you bring comfortable shoes for our running around?
Dear Carolyn, I know such good friends we'll be,
So just tell me 'everything' while I pour the tea.
for the Michael's "First words over coffee" contest
by Francine Roberts, about the wonderful Carolyn Devonshire, whom I would
absolutely love to meet
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
It's one week till Christmas
And we've had enough
Of grumpy old shoppers
Complaining about stuff.
They hate the line-ups,
They hate the cashiers.
They won't be happy
Till they have us in tears.
The things they are after
Are long gone from the store.
They find it incredulous
We won't be getting more.
Last minute shoppers
Are a pain in the rump.
Each night by closing
This place looks like a dump.
One more week to go,
I sure hope we make it
But in the meantime
We'll just smile and fake it.
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
into blue skies
pink wings take flight
ripples on the pond
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
You try to entice me
With the smell of coffee and pancakes.
I bury my head deeper under the covers
And ignore your ploy.
Naked, I walk into the kitchen,
My turn to entice.
I run back to the bed and dive beneath the covers,
Giggling.
The pancakes are cold,
I win.
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
Eloquent, ethereal,
an artist through and through.
Her words alit on gossamer wings
as through our hearts they flew.
Each poem was written from the heart
and soul of our Linda Marie.
A visual portrait painted with words
for us, her audience, to see.
We thank you for your friendship.
You will be missed Sweetheart.
We thank you for the words you left us
before your sad depart.
Your beautiful soul, full of grace,
is in a far, far better place.
27/01/2014
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
lazily the waves
lap the pebbles on the beach
a crab scurries by
to burrow beneath wet sand
a prisoner of the tides
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Francine Roberts Poem
~~~~ Snore !! No More !! ~~~~
He was asleep on his stomach.
His snoring could wake the dead.
She glared at his sleeping back
wanting to push him out of bed.
She covered her ears with a pillow
trying to block out the sound.
An evil thought ran though her head,
"There were no witnesses around".
She crept out to the kitchen
She could have stomped ... he wouldn't hear.
With the largest butcher knife
she returned to her husband dear..
Right between his shoulder blades,
one thrust ... he snored no more.
She gathered the blankets around him
to keep the blood off the white shag floor.
Then the snoring started again.
She let out a startled scream
and sat bolt upright in her bed.
It had all been just a dream.
He was asleep on his stomach.
His snoring could wake the dead.
She stared at his sleeping back
and wanted to punch him in the head.
10/07/2012
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2012
|
|