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Madeline Male Poem
With care, I craft the words on the page,
but I see that they loathe being in this cage.
Too often, they break out of formation
and run everywhere — such disorganization!
I wonder if I should set the words free,
considering they’ve already done so much for me.
The next day, carrying a heavy heart,
I tell the words they are free to depart.
I reluctantly box up my paper and pen;
without words, I won’t ever use them again.
The next week, I sit at my desk with nothing to write . . .
Suddenly I hear a fluttering sound, and gasp at the sight:
Flying back home, just like birds,
are all of my beloved words!
What brings me even more joy is the message they spell:
Exploring the world has gone very well,
but now we’re back and feeling brighter,
for we’ve found our true purpose —
to have you as our writer!
Copyright © Madeline Male | Year Posted 2024
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Madeline Male Poem
The evening sky glows
with orange swirls and pink puffs.
Dessert is now served.
Copyright © Madeline Male | Year Posted 2023
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Madeline Male Poem
I’m sorry, reader.
You’ve simply arrived too late.
All the action has already happened:
I’ve slain the dragon,
stolen the gem,
ran through dagger forests,
sacrificed life and limb,
and no one was even there to see it!
I swam through a witchcrafted lake,
narrowly avoiding confrontation,
but wasn’t so lucky when it came to the snake,
lurking inside a pool of lava.
I’m sorry to say yet again
that you, dear reader, have missed all of this action,
all of it!
Now I am lying amongst wildflowers in a meadow.
Copyright © Madeline Male | Year Posted 2023
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Madeline Male Poem
Soaring seagulls flying free
Evening waves come forth, then flee
All these sounds wash over me
Copyright © Madeline Male | Year Posted 2023
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Madeline Male Poem
The best kind of day —
My spirits are still rising
Even as rain falls
Copyright © Madeline Male | Year Posted 2024
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Madeline Male Poem
The quietest pond that waited
for its ducks to fly back
is finally alive.
Copyright © Madeline Male | Year Posted 2024
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Madeline Male Poem
To set down our phones,
constant companions,
and gaze up at the tree
to watch the robins feed their chicks —
such an exotic request.
Copyright © Madeline Male | Year Posted 2023
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Madeline Male Poem
In the sweet spring air,
We love a long walk.
I fancy he listens
As I blabber and talk.
I playfully sigh
Once we come in the door —
Someone’s muddy paws
Have painted the floor.
In the hot summer air,
We drive to the beach.
He pulls off my flip flop,
And runs out of reach.
As dusk settles in,
He nips at a firefly;
While never successful,
He loves to just try.
In the brisk fall air,
I need time to breathe,
But he begs, “one more time,
Throw my ball to retrieve!”
When I bring out the pumpkin,
He wants his fair share.
I say, “down boy, down!”
But he acts unaware.
In the cold winter air,
Snow lands on his face . . .
Just a second of calm —
Then a squirrel to go chase!
Only back inside does he now shake off,
Melting snow and frost cascading.
I groan but deep down I know:
What makes his personality his own
Are his quirks and irks,
Misdeeds and misleads,
Imperfection but true affection,
That I would, of course, never consider trading.
Copyright © Madeline Male | Year Posted 2025
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