ME=OW

Robert Wager found a coin
lying on his mother's grave;
gravely, Robert took the coin
coldy wagering within
that doing so was not sin.
Thus engaged he did not hear
a black-clad figure drawing near.
"What have you done,"
the figure cried,
"that coin has been there since she died.
If removed, she swore to come
and haunt my sanctuarium."
Robert grasped the coin still tighter
"I found it here, you wretched blighter.
I'll bet you want it for yourself,
but I have bloodright to this pelf."
The stranger gave an awful yell,
"Your mother shan't disturb sweet Hell!
Put the coin back, you spiteful brat,
or I'll turn you into a three-legg'd cat."
Robert laughed, but Old Scratch cursed
and shortly after Robert burst
into fur, then shrunk, then mewed.
Ever since there's been a feud
between Old Nick & the feline breed.
Be warned, and do not yeild to greed.

To the DORK QUEEN OF MY HEART

I hate your blubber guts,you squirrely girl.
you drive me nuts; i want to hurl.
sugar and spice and a head full of lice-
i'd rather lick mice
than look at you twice.
what's up with your hair?
is it supposed to grow there?
And those boats...are your feet?
When you laugh its a bleat
like a sheep with TB.
If you're allowed free
then incarcerate me.
A pug is a poodle
compared to your noodle;
A glance at your mug
is a near-lethal drug.
You make Munch's The Scream
a pleasant daydream.
You're God's one mistake
(those warts are not fake)
If I was your beau,
I'd find an ice floe
and go, go, go, go
until death did us part.
You make lettuce seem smart.
Oh,
by the way,
it's opposite day :)

yes. i actually used "hark." it's legal in poetry.

Hope never dies

The day was an arrow from a warrior's bow
the night was a feather dropped by a crow
Sunrise, that songbird, was welcome and sweet
while dusk traveled slowly as a weary man's feet.
Tomorrow, a stranger, is journeying near,
bearing its burden of joy, aye, and fear.
Dawn brings the day, and day brings the night
sure as the arrow spins in its flight;
sure as the raven croaks as it flies,
love is eternal for hope never dies.
Whatever shall hap with another day's sun
thou art beloved. What is done has been done.
Farewell the arrow and farewell the wings
but welcome the future and hark! how it sings!

Sleep (for A.F.R.)

Finally, you've fallen asleep.
Now, I can look at you,
ice-eyes lidded & peaceful,
and the bow of your mouth unstrung;
you look like a child.
You've thrown your arm out now-
unconsciously touching mine.
Something strikes me,
hard;
Love, full force, arrests my heart.
There is only one question in the universe:
How can I ever look away from you?
Golden, midnight falls upon you
but you do not stir. Even your hair is resting.
Is this how your mother felt,
watching you sleep?
Did the same fierceness overpower her demurity?
For, though a moment ago I murmured gently in your arms,
now
I find I am a lioness,
hot-blooded. Willing to tear the throat out of
anything
that threatens you,
my young love.
Perhaps it is always so for woman, but
somehow I think not, for surely if there were others thus transformed,
the wide world would be a Serengeti
and every husband's dreams
peaceful.

Drought is a bad neighbor.

The entire prairie is ablaze -
from a hundred miles away, smoke dapples the sky.
Deer, buffalo, and all the small fry
are on the move.
And so are we.
Goodbye, Father's farmland.
Goodbye, Mother's washline.
Goodbye, Plum Creek & Stoneford Farm,
and all the places our rag-dolls love.
Orange sun, orange flame, orange goodbye--
burn
burn
burn.
My heart is saying goodbye to Home
with all the pathos
of the mewling kitten
which Mary's holding in her apron.
Run, deer and buffalo.
Run, mice and shrews and muskrats.
Goodbye, golden land. You are being eaten
by the hungry orange
of prairie flame.