Sestina Storm

Dark, gloomy, shades of gray
Blowing in from the North.
Suppressing my space, clouding my air,
With bolts of lightening and shattering booms,
And pellets of water come crashing down
Making an outdoor day indoors.

By the window indoors,
I fade into the blankets of gray.
They fall to the earth, down, down,
Then tossed up again by the playful wind of the North.
So soft, so silent, then jolted by a crash and boom.
It makes my heart race, my spirit flutter, breathing this air.

Looks thick and sticky, yet it's surprisingly crisp, invigorating air.
Easy to breath outside, but hard to get indoors.
The house shakes, the beams creak after the resounding boom.
The monsters roll in, darker and darker gray
Rolling in from the deep, dark North
To catch us off guard, speeding down.

The rain is hurling down,
This water is stealing my air.
The snowmelt from the North,
Icy and wet, luckily cannot penetrate indoors.
By the cozy fire I simply admire the gray,
And lend an ear to the lamenting booms.

On and on, splish, splash, flash and boom,
The day is now winding down.
The sky's not quite black, but fathomless gray,
An eerie stillness claims the air,
One that one can even feel indoors,
Though wind's still whipping 'round the house, pulsing from the North.

Then silence creeps in from the North.
Fading away are those once faithful booms.
Rest comes upon me, soothing, I am safe indoors.
Lightly the drops come down, down,
Tapping the windows, sprinkling the air.
All is encompassed in gray.

Snug and warm indoors, I lay down.
Night falling from the North, gone are the booms.
Inhale the sweet, clear, stormy air, and my eyes close to gray.

Little Red Love

Why do I love thee? Let me explain it.
I fell in love with your soft rosy cheeks
I could sit still and stare at you for weeks
But could I keep control of both my mitts?
Alas, I do not think I could stand it
Not caressing your smooth, sweet, plump, red cheeks.
They call to me with small delicious squeaks
To this dear love, my life I must submit.
Forever then you'd disappear, be gone.
Once I give in to this deep desire.
Your color lost, your taste and scent did go.
But if I can wait, your life will go on.
Then my spirits will be so much higher
For I love thee, garden-grown tomato.

Story of a Departed Loved One

What a lovely, little Chevy,
So small and so divine.
From my parents on my birthday,
It is red and it is mine!

For a spin, we went out,
My Chevy and I.
Round a corner, couldn't see,
Into a tree we did fly.

Oh dear Chevy, what happened?
There you are, all blown to bits.
You look awful, you may be dead,
Looks like you came from the London Blitz.

Grounded for a month or two,
But license's gone for a year.
And my Chevy, cute, red Chevy,
Will never reappear.

Phobias...

I have a fear
Actually quite a few it seems
Many a phobia I hold dear.

Claustrophobia is not so queer
But Allodoxaphobia makes me scream
I have a fear.

My Arachnephobia won't disappear
Nor my Aulophobia that is quite extreme
Many a phobia I hold dear.

Didaskaleinophobia is very severe
Worse than an Altophobic dream
I have a fear.

Genuphobia, Novercaphobia, cannot appear
More difficult than Metrophobia, which made my eyes stream
Many a phobia I hold dear.

Mnemophobia I can't stand to hear
Chronophobia makes me rip at the seams
I have a fear
Many a phobia I hold dear.

• Claustrophobia – fear of small, tight spaces
• Allodoxaphobia – fear of opinions
• Arachnephobia – fear of spiders
• Didaskaleinophobia – fear of school
• Altophobia – fear of heights
• Genuphobia – fear of knees
• Novercaphobia – fear of your step-mother
• Metrophobia – fear of poetry
• Mnemophobia – fear of memories
• Chronophobia – fear of time

One on one with tea...

I am sitting on a large mug at the end of my street.
A colorful, festive, but a strangely quiet parade boils a liter of water and sends me to an entirely different mug.
In this place I fill the mug with boiling hot wheat field.
A light down the hill steeps for three minutes and I head toward it.
Oh, to squeeze out a single-bulb porch light for an old, gray teabag.
May as well throw away the house and knock on the door.
A sweet, kind clover answers and gets out to show me in.
She gets out one rusty, wrought-iron teaspoon from the drawer next to the other half of the house.
We weren't allowed into the teaspoon with honey.
Until her father is a tiny, crazy man, just starting to overflow, put her mother in the cabinet next to a large crowd.
"Put a large bug or bizarre sea creature away my friend," I say.
Teaspoon, how brown and dead it looks.
The store has become tea, old, bleak, and dark.
Now, pour lots of explosions of light and loud bangs into the tea until answered with cheers completely full.

The craziness dies down and, stirring my tea, I sit silently, confused.

American Wine Society

Monday through Friday they drink,
Dressed in their tuxes and minks.
On Sat. they're a mess,
On Sunday they rest,
Then they start all again and don't think.

On the Occasion of My Brother's Birth

Running to my dad yelling, "Is he here?!"
After days, weeks, months of waiting,
I was no longer alone.
Through the door, up the elevator we went,
Through doctors and nurses and crowds of patients.
But I was impatient, I wanted to run ahead,
But my dad held my hand, so I skipped instead.
Finally! After miles of bleak halls we arrived.
Walking in I heard a coo and a cry and a sweet hush,
Then I saw him.
Small, red, wrinkly, and frail,
He was perfect, my own little brother.
I touched his head, it was soft.
I touched his hand, he grabbed my finger,
And didn't let go.
So cute, so sweet, so I kissed him,
Which apparently was a bad idea.
My parents said, "No!" but I didn't care.
I was a big sister now!
I had a pin and a shirt that said so,
Not to mention my very own little brother.

On the Occasion of the Stolen Dessert

'Tis a decadent thing,
Saved for a special occasion.
Layers of cake, a savory sauce,
And a handful of the best raisins!

Bread pudding, my love,
Set upon its dish,
Glowing in the fridge door light,
My desire, my wish.

The day of consumption arrives,
And to the fridge I head.
Only, aghast, I discover
My pudding has fled.

The dessert has gone,
Disappeared into thin air.
Even the plate and the fork,
Are no longer there.



So an investigation ensued,
to unveil the greed
That would cause someone good
to do this bad deed.

The clinking of china,
Reaches my ears.
Into the next room I look
And the story is clear.

My Father, my Pop, my sweet Daddio,
could not ignore his stomach's plea.
He needed a snack and what should he find,
But my little piece of heaven and glee.

Now all that are left,
I am shameful to say,
Are the crumbs of stolen dessert,
And my maddening dismay.

My Mélange of Colors

Blue is my medium,
My constant stream of emotion.
Calm, controlled, never ruffled,
Always flowing.




But then a spark,
A spurt of yellow.
Gleeful, grinning, never still,
Always running.
An interruption of my quiet ways,
A welcome distraction from my work,
Life's call of duty.

Like a sparkler I will glow,
For a moment or two,
And then slowly I will fade
back into blue.

Goody Goody

Goody Goody
- Matty Malneck & Johnny Mercer (1936)

So you met someone who set you back on your heels,
Goody goody!
So you met someone and now you know how it feels,
Goody goody!
Well you gave her your heart too,
Just as I gave mine to you
And she broke it in little pieces,
And now how do you do?

So you lie awake just singing the blues all night,
Goody goody!
And you found that love's a barrel of dynamite!
Hurray and halleluyah, you had it comin' to ya
Goody goody for you! Goody goody for me!
And I hope you’re satisfied you rascal you!

Companion Poem:

Walking through town I found a hundred dollar note,
Goody, goody!
So I took it along and put into my tote,
Goody, goody!
Oh all the things I'll buy,
And then they'll all be mine.
Jewelry, dresses, heels, and purses,
My spirits couldn't be so high!

Walking through town I spent my hundred dollar bill,
Phooey, phooey!
The purchased items have long been through the mill.
Where has the money gone?
I guess I must walk on.
Goody, goody for them! Phooey, phooey for me!
And I hope you're satisfied you merchants you!