The gummy smile
stretches wide across the chubby cheeks
and the belly jiggles
when baby giggles.
Mothers’ tears April 20, 2013
Never,
ever,
make your
mother cry.
Never,
ever,
bring tears
to her eye.
Never,
ever,
force a
melancholy sigh
Never,
ever,
make her
sacrifices lie.
Never,
ever,
make your
mother cry.
Unless,
she’s blessed,
and tears are joy
wept dry.
Book spine poem — April 19, 2013
I have never created one of these, but as I’m typing in the library, I have found this one by Front Street Teens that is one that I think is very effective. I’m inspired.
saxy poem April 18, 2013
The bari-sax
is very sexy.
Those low
notes
go
down
to your soul
and grind around
in your groin.
I love
good
sax.
.
This is culled from a bio piece about the Grace Awakening Myth character Ryan, who plays sax. You may have noticed that Ryan is a little obsessed with sex, as well.
Boston April 2013 April 17, 2013
Legs ache
mile after mile
hour after hour.
Grasp gasping.
Aim: medal.
Ahead: Finish
Smoke and
Noise
and
coloured paper falling
like ticker tape.
Metal.
Collapse coughing
Pavement slick.
Legs ache.
Green land? April 16, 2013
Someday I want to go to Greenland
That fabled Viking Fantasyland
Eric assured all it’d be a nice land
though, it’s much icier than Iceland.
Someday I want to go to Greenland,
That rarely ever seen land.
.
In the WordPress map of blog viewers, I have visitors from all over the world, but I have never had a visitor from Greenland, so I thought I’d write a little ditty about it. Have you been to Greenland? What is it like?
harping romance April 15, 2013
The strings and the fingers
are smiling tentatively at each other,
recalling long ago acquaintance
but feeling shy with each other.
Once, fingers danced with strings
for hours, without a glance to
the books of lines and staffs that
were their matchmaker.
Then they were separated
and the comfortable rhythm
they once shared
slowly dissolved
into awkward tentativeness
on the rare occasions
when they came across one another.
Relationships take commitment,
after all.
Now they’ve been reintroduced.
The matchmaker pushes them together
and fingers hesitantly
caress the strings,
leave them vibrating,
longing for more.
.
It’s been far too long, but I’m finally back playing the harp. So far I’m working on a great book, Rose in Winter, by harpist Sharon Thormahlen of Corvallis, Oregon. Her original pieces are so pretty and fall easily on the fingers. In this photo (circa 2002) is my Bresch Jubal harp (33 strings) behind and my double strung Brittany from Stoney End in front. (The Brittany is cherry, and has the most beautiful, shimmering grain and a tremendously loud voice for a wee harp!)
crescent moon haiku April 14, 2013
God has left a toe
nail clipping on the best
blue velvet bedspread.
I don’t know you April 13, 2013
I don’t know you
and now I never will.
I wanted to.
.
Now you’re gone forever
and I will never
know you,
love you.
.
But I will grieve
for what
might have been.
Shawn L. Bird 