Halloween Treat? (The Verse Version)

(This is the "poetry" version of the blog I've written over on my sister page, Soprano Notes.)

The plan had been to call in sick today 

and just stay home and chill.

The sick part came true...

Maybe this is what 54 feels like.  

It's my first time being this age, you know.

So, what am I going to do today 

to celebrate my natal day?  

I'm celebrating not having to wake up 

at 4:30 in order to get to work on time.

I'm celebrating not having to BE at work today.
 

I plan to buy me some soup,

and maybe another bottle or two of perfume.

At the very least, 

I'm going to get some more sleep

So, happy birthday to me! 

Love Waits...

In the middle of an afternoon,
lazy, like today,
I saw your face, and fires lit
like pilots in the core of me.
I admired you then...

In the middle of a morning blue,
quiet, like today,
I read your words, and storm clouds reared
like stallions in the core of me.
I wanted you then...

In the middle of an evening clear,
darkening, like today,
I felt your touch, and flames struck
like lightning at the core of me...
I needed you then...

In the middle of a midnight warm,
hungry, like today,
I hear your call, and springs well up
like fountains in the core of me...
I'll have you, then...

Copyright © 2011

Quiz Time

(This was in response to a poetry-writing challenge...I think it was to write a poem in monorhyme.  It was fun!)

The day dawned bright and fair.
Teenagers everywhere
groaned loudly at the care
that Mrs. B made clear
she wanted them to share
in writing essays rare
on Chaucer's Chaunticleer.

Boys sat with faces bare,
and wished for their own share
of lazy summer fare,
of final moments rare
where they could take a dare
and kiss the shoulders bare
of girls down at the fair.

Girls fussed on with their hair,
and wished that they could stare
with longing eyes so clear
upon the handsome pair
of new boys over there
beside the wooden chair -
one boy would only glare.

Their teacher didn't care
that boys or girls weren't there
to learn about the fare
she had prepared so fair
for their especial care.
She really was aware
of each one's angry glare,

She put each in a pair
so they could each one share
the burden and the care
of reading Chaunticleer,
and memorizing fair
the lines about the dare
that caught him fair and square.

The fox out of his lair -
the students did not care!
The boys in lather rare
their goal would not forswear.
The girls sought to ensnare
the new boys in mohair -
they were without compare!

"Quiz time!" she did declare.
She knew this was warfare,
and since she would not swear,
she needed to beware,
or else the students there
would all her goals impair -
but she did not despair.

Pinning them with a stare,
her gimlet eyes aware
that no one had a prayer,
unless they had the flare
to let their thoughts cohere
on that poor Chaunticleer,
first question hung in air...

Copyright © 2010

Nostalgia

How to say the million things that well up in my heart
when I read the words that may be meant for me,
while fumbling with the seemingly unsayable other things
that float up, without permission, into the overflowing well.

My tangled thoughts, thrashing round the inky depths,
wrangling with each other like hungry sharks circling
the chum thrown in to woo them to their capture and slaughter,
will not settle on one spot - angry, or happy, or hurting;

Muddled, whipping through my head like a wild summer storm,
with no controls in place to stop their frantic streaking pace
across the heaving, flustered quadrants of my mind, a maelstrom
in gray and blue, struggling with the dissonant nostalgia of Fall.

Copyright © 2010