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Best Poems Written by Stanley Ohlswager

Below are the all-time best Stanley Ohlswager poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Shady Lady

SHADY LADY   
There once was a lady who loved to face the sun
      Following it as it crossed the sky,
Particularly between the hours of eleven to one.
      But  no one could figure out why.
Some said to develop a sunny disposition
      To overcome a previous condition
For  it was rumored that this lady
      Had a background that was shady.

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Moses

Moses
In Deuteronomy
Couldn’t deal with masculinity;
Couldn’t deal with femininity, 
So he settled on 
Neuteronomy

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Dinner

DINNER

Tonight we’ll dine 
At a restaurant fine
.To order, we’ll start 
With the French words,
Entrée and a la carte.

Hors d oeuvres, escargo, 
Brei and dubonnet.
If those mean food,
Why don’t they say?
Foi gras and boeuf.
Grass-fed beef?

Next on the menu:
Pesto, calamari,
Vermicelli, tortellini.
Served with bianco, chianti, 
Oh me!

Not to be out done,
The Greeks have their fun 
With: gyros, mousaka, 
Ouzo, and baklava.

Apparently it’s fashional 
To serve food international.
Adding to the appeal
Of a well-prepared meal.
OK by me!

Details | Stanley Ohlswager Poem

Arachne

ARACHNE

Athena, 
Goddess of Wisdom
In the heavenly arena,
Weaver of skill 
Was believing
That none could match 
The beauty of her weaving.
But a young mortal maid, Arachne,
Showed weaving of matching beauty.
So enraged by this travesty
Of equally beautiful tapestry, 
Athena, no longer able to abide her
Turned her into a spider* 
Whose webs of splendor
She yet does render.
I know this to be true, for one day
Arachne, sitting besider  
Did thus confide her
Before scaring Miss Muffet away.
                                                
                                                 * Spider, of the order Arachnid, having 
                                             8 legs; weaver of magnificent webs.

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Bliss

BLISS

Reminisce
A kiss
Bliss

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Old Grump

OLD GRUMP

Old Grump, harumph
Lived in a shack,
No toilet,
House out back.
When approached,
He’d glower
With a face turned sour.
He felt the world against him,
And en-fenced him
To be fated 
To live isolated.
Then one day in May
His front stoop suddenly featured
A scraggly, mangy four-legged creature
With droopy ears 
And expression mournful.
Whose approach seemed to be only
That he was lonely
And a friend he wished to be
As he snuggled Grump’s knee,
Who, with slow comprehension
Felt a loving attention.
And, with a pat on the head,
Smilingly said,
“ You may be skin and bone,
And I a worn-out guy
But we can have a loving tie
And never again feel all alone.”
 Old Grump lost his scowl
And, with but a friendly feat,
Sour was turned to sweet.

Details | Stanley Ohlswager Poem

Time

TIME              

Something you can’t see nor feel
      Something you can’t hear.
But something certainly real
      TIME is always here.
Is it stationary and stable?
      No, though we may have that notion
Can’t confine it to a table.
      For it essentially defines motion.

As in “long time ago”
      We say time is past and gone’
But then we often know
      And say” the time is yet to come”
It seems to be a paradox
      When the future becomes the past
Putting the present in a box
      A moment time stands still at last.

We say, “How long will it last?”
      Length?; does time have dimension?
If so, has it a shadow to cast?
      No, ‘tis an abstraction., that’s my contention.
Time, the great enabler,
      As recorded in earth’s journal,
Allows happenings to occur’
      Ranging from instant to eternal.

Time can go fast
      But as you and I know,
When it never seems to pass
      Time can be so slow.
“Time’s too short, it takes too long”
      But it can’t be both: is something wrong?

Details | Stanley Ohlswager Poem

A Leaf

A LEAF 

To feed a tree I grasp Old Sol‘s energy
Using chlorophyll and carotene,
Which to you look green.

Absorbed by me, which you cannot see,
Light energies yellow, red, and blue
Are converted into chemistry, producing a tree 
From ground-mined water and air-born CO2
Forming flowers, seeds, branches, life-giving O2,

And leaves like me too.
 
Now in the fall, from trees tall,
Nary a word do I utter
As downward I quietly flutter,
Giving up the ghost
From my summertime host.

Pals and I wave good-by  
Such as to a Maple fellow
Who lost his green and now shows yellow,
And my friend, Ash, on a gentle glide,
Shows true color purple inside.
Mighty Oak, on the way to the ground,
Ha! Just plain old brown!

Whoops, too soon I spoke; 
Cousin of his I see just as red as me!

Then their’s old Sassy-brass named Sassafras
With magnificent rainbow
Of red, orange, yellow.

Times before in days of yore,
We suffered mass cremations
Rapidly finalizing life cessation. 
But now we lie onto Mother earth
From whence came my tree’s birth.

I leave behind a legacy
To prolong my family tree.
With renewal like me, same blood.
For lack of a better name,
We’ll just call him “Bud”.







  

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The Moon

THE MOON
We’ve a friend up there ever so high
A bright ball up in the sky.
There’s a full moon in June
When romance is enhanced, 
And young men on their knees,
 Oft’ submit marriage pleas.

Made of cheese green,
One week later can be seen
To have been nibbled upon
By a heavenly member of the Zodiac.
Pisces, the fish in fact.
At this phase of the moon, 
It is thought that a cow jumped over
As a dish ran away with a spoon.

When another week has passed
It has been nibbled in half
By Taurus, the bull’s young calf.

Another week it looks forlorn
Having been chewed by the goat,
Named Capricorn.

End of fourth week
There is practically no more,
But the black new moon
 Will see it’s  slowly restored.

Details | Stanley Ohlswager Poem

Face the Facts--Relax

Face The Facts--Relax

When a senior widower I became
      I joined others whose situation is the same.
One of those independent living places
      Where you see many new faces.
Was told I might even attend
      To the discovery of a nice new lady friend.

The widowed women unencumbered
      Had us men far outnumbered.
I was told of all the dangers
      Of being approached by  female strangers.
Alas, now I’ve come to realize
      This attack by women would not materialize
 
Can’t blame the weather or the season
      Aha, I think I’ve found the reason;
I have now but a fraction
      Of the old attraction.
I’ve lost that old ability
      Because of my senility---oh well!