Slice, slice, slice, Apples plopped into a bowl, Cinnamon and sugar, spice, All mixed up nice, Poured into the awaiting crust, Baked up nice and tender, Crust golden and crispy, Taste buds yearning, To taste the sweet apple treat.
Tag: Poetry
HAY STACKS ARE FOR OLD LOVERS
Her hair grey like an overcast day, Enchanting me with her sly smile, As we hide away in the hay, Like young lovers on the sly. We huddle in a pile, Carressing each other, Hushing our whispers, As we enjoy our secret smiles.
RETURN TO MOTHER EARTH
Cast away into the field, I lay here decaying, My life expectancy long past, Yielding my flesh to Natures grasp. Stripped away of my newness, That my old owner so adored, I knew my usefulness wouldn’t last, And now, as predicted, I lay here dying under duress from the wind and sun. Here my grave…
HIS TOUCH
He touches my chest, My heart spurns for him, I yearn for his kiss, Longing to feel his five o’clock shadow on my cheeks, I passionately pull him in, Intertwined we kiss, Rolling in bed like young adult lovers, He rests his head on my hairy chest, Running his fingers through the thick fur. He…
SOLITARY
So alone in the golden field, Standing tall, streching your limbs, Glorifying heaven with your gaze held high, Sheltering the small animals who call you home. Your motherly characteristics shout loud throughout the year, Feeding and shading and who would find sanctuary with you. So beautiful and majestic you stand, Alone in the vast Virginia…
I LOVE MY GRANDMA
Bashing symbols crashing in time with the quick snare, Grasping earbulbs like Grannies mad as a crazed mare, Whipping youthful rears, Correcting childhood mood & quelling immature fear. Taking motherly care, and never, Going too far or too near, Letting babies hearts feel the warmth grow undeterred, Mothering her grandbabies forever.
AN ODE TO THE DYING
Once you had much time to wine and dine, Now your life is shorter than a dime. When we gathered we laughed and acted like we had forever, Now we sit and reminisce on old memories and talk into the late hour. I look at you and think of your once healthy complexion, Now I…
JOHNNY BOY
(Johnny Boy is a poem about a higher power providing for it’s creation. Though religious, it is about each person’s higher power or lack of one.) Down from heaven floated the tiny seed, It landed on the palm of my hand, Taking it between my fingers I held it to my eye, It looked so…
(POEM: HENRY – CHAP 2)
“A Hand Always Given” Over hills we traveled, many of us new, bedazzled, at the spectacular castle which held our future, Different walks of life directed us to the same place, where we learned and grew, and became emboldened. Whenever we lost our way, a hand was always given, and though we stumbled, no one…
MUSING OVER DEPRESSION
Why does depression have to grip a person when they least want it too? Why does stress decimate a person with depression? Why does anger live in the mind of a depressed person? Why does depression ruin lives? Is depression normal? Aren’t all human beings born with some oddness? What makes depression so scary? How…
