I’m fond of flowers
bought because
today is worth celebrating;
they are lovely,
and you are captivating.
Unexpected joy does
blossom for hours.
poem-prepared August 9, 2015
Lord Baden-Powell had it right when he advised the Scouts to Be Prepared
especially in summer paradises, the drop in visitors are far from rare.
But while the public zones might meet pass inspection
the bedrooms require some interjection and disinfection
Explosions of laundry piled in the guest room
Slow motion quandry to solve in a hurry
Hang up the phone, fly into a flurry
Hang up the clothes; Come we must hurry!
In just twenty minutes make this space habitable
for twenty minutes we must be indefatigable!
Make up the beds. Whip round the vacuum,
then answer the door bell crooning, “Good afternoon!”
poem-leprechaun March 17, 2015
Giant leprechaun
on the Via Crucis of
Palantine Hill
in Rome.
An American
in a giant
green velvet hat
laughing
and jigging
for St. Pat.
Five years ago on St. Patrick’s Day we were in Rome. We were exploring on Palantine Hill when we saw these Americans. I took his photo and he passed me his camera to take a photo of them. End of story. His hat has remained in memory as an amusing incidental of the trip.
poem- bigger January 20, 2015
It was to be a small thing
a little something,
a useful token,
a stylish bibelot,
but it is a large thing
engendering greater
gratitude.
poem-lying September 21, 2014
I wake
to feel you lying
stretched along
the length of me.
I reach out my hand
and find not flesh
but fur.
You have been replaced
by canine devotion.
.
.
.
.
This is an interesting example of ‘living poetry.’ People ask how I can come up with a poem every day, and I say I see them everywhere. This morning, completely dazed with sleep, this happened, I muzzily composed this poem as I reflected on the surprise, and then fell back to sleep. When I finally got up, there it was, ready to share.
poem-expectations January 3, 2014
“We’re not going to a show,”
he said. “They’re too expensive.”
“Oh,” she said, nodding sagely. “Right.”
They’d travelled all that way
to a sleepless city of lights.
Shows every night.
Wild crazy sights.
She’d packed for a night out.
“I get it,” she said,
smirking to herself.
She waited for his
inevitable surprise,
as he took her for
long walks in daylight
until her beautifully shod feet ached.
Then he napped.
She smiled at his
preparation for a late night
and she practiced her
astonished expression.
First night.
Second night.
Last night.
She gaped at him,
heading to an early bed.
Surprise!
There really is
no surprise.
poem- switch December 14, 2013
Best laid plans
A good surprise
Gone wrong.
An earnest effort
Hug cures
anguish
frustration
Making right
Rewind
Start again
Free rein
Shawn L. Bird 