A Light Tale – Not Twisty Or a Thriller

Hilda Sue loves a good spy thriller

A tale that moves at high speed and is a twisty twizzler

She reads in bed with popcorn and tea

Hubby Hal loves illustrations he can admire and see

And he prefers manga that is cool and killer

Their wedding photo is a fifty by thirty

It’s in a giant silver frame that’s polished not dirty

It hangs on the wall behind the couch

Thier love is big – for that they can vouch

They like public displays and around town are quite flirty

Hilda and Hal love their tuxedo cat Lucy

They also have beagle pup they named Moosie

Their animals have the run of the house

Moosie – not Lucy is the one who’ll catch a mouse

Hilda tells Hal they should get a duck they’ll name Goosie

Hal would love to paint their house in stripes

Like the Irish flag but they know they’ll get gripes

Hilda is orange and Hal is green

They compromise and choose white – no neighbors’ complaints and Hal is keen

When painting’s done they go camping – Hal tells Hilda tales of snipes

They decide their backyard needs a new tree

Hal hires someone to plant it – he has a bum left knee

He injured it at camp when he tried his hand at fly fishing

He wants to recover – he’s hoping and wishing

Neighbor Phil has a crush on Hilda -so he’ll be their gardener for free

Hil and Hal watch a movie on Friday night

It’s The French Connection – exciting and dangerous – not light

Hilda serves him his favorite beer and cheese

She prefers Malbec with chips and guacamole made with peas

Alas – Hal thinks this combo is kinda gross and a fright

Neighborhood trees I love.

Summer Dreams

Distant night

Stars,

With nectar,

Bursting, falling.

Hummingbird sips,

Greedy.

Spruce high,

Her Earth home,

Wings quickened,

Tiny heart works,

Paints moonlight

Ruby, emerald, golden.

Dragonfly slumbers.

Of a longer life,

Dreams.

While she sleeps, darning needle

Weaves her wings with

Hoped for

Magic.

Honeybees also,

Sleep

Sandman sprinkles

Dust,

Hypnotic.

Pines dream of a reach sky high.

An evergreen’s

Silk road

To the

Moon

Barbara and Kenneth

Barbara and Kenneth love the merry go round

And a good blues band is their best liked sound

Kenny and Barb have fun at the shore

But truly they love the forest more

Alas each Saturday they’re lake cabin bound

Barb bakes Kenny his fave pecan pie

And buys his cheap whiskey made with rye

Ken bakes for Barb much sourdough bread

And with it goes the best cheese and wine red

But foremost is that Kenny cannot tell a lie

Barb’s ex Lyle sometimes shows up

When he does it seems it’s always time for (sup)per*

Barb knows Lyle likes gin and tonic with lime

She also knows that with her he misses making time

He scores points with Barb when he brings Overton his pup

Nine pm it’s time to kick Lyle out

He can take a hint Kenny has no need to shout

Then Barb and Kenny hit their brass bed

They arise early and to work they head

When he gets home harried Kenny will tackle the shower grout

At her job Barb cleans dirty teeth

Her favorite patient is sexy tree surgeon Heath

Heath has not a single filling

Has never had a need for dental drilling

He comes to see Barb from all the way in Wren Meath

Barb asks Heath to come check out her oak tree

It’s growing too fast he should come and see

Kenny knows nothing about plants in their yard

He spends his time off reading The Bard

Heath’s got a crush on Barb so he won’t charge a fee

Many men in Greytown are in love with Barb’s smile

Her hubbs Kenny, then there’s Richie, then Rob, James and of course Lyle

There are many many many more

Barb’s one in many millions that’s the Greytown lore

And there’s a new bachelor next door young accountant Kyle

No relation to the post, just a photo of my most fabulous feline, Snickers.    🙂

In a Still Life

Pink parchment black pen

Love words from nib swift spilled swirled

Hydrangea letter

Vintage ink newsprint

Poppies graphite line drawing

Wedding announcement

Assignation past

A romance promise unkept

Runaway bride fright

Dress sold parchment torn

Poppies drawn withered torn lace

Chamomile daisies

Time and tears years pass

Gown patched in vintage shop found

Still Life of heartbreak

Painting bright brilliant

Onyx vase poppies crimson

Gift long ago love

Gift wrapped planned meeting

A Still Life in velvet/lace

Memories repair a Still Life of

Love

Oil on canvas, embroidery in silk,

Poppies flourish in garden, new.

Lovely Canterbury Bells. Not oil on canvas, but photo in digital.    🙂

Night At the Fair

Darlene Netherwither Lane loves cotton candy

And popcorn and elephant ears it’s all quite dandy

It’s all about fun at the carnival with its food

She and husband Davis take their big brood

The tunnel of love ride makes Davis super randy

Little Cassandra likes the tilt-a-whirl best

And big eighth grade Colin loves all the rest

Nine year old Noelle enjoys the ferris wheel

Eleven years Stanley doesn’t – a little sick it makes him feel

But over all it’s a special night success

Marcia Marcia Marcia loves the blueberry pie

She has a crush on Klinger Harvey but he’s extremely shy

Colin’s in love with Klinger’s sister Cheryl

But Cheryl’s Mom tells her that Colin’s a little feral.

In this tale we can’t forget three year old sis Vi

Darlene and Davis enjoy a live band

They need help backstage so Davis gives them a hand

Darlene puts earplugs in sweet little Vi’s ears

She’s an attentive mother and drinks no beers

In the distance some see a UFO land

The band stops and people run for their cars

Two blocks away pub owners close their bars

Darlene and Davis round up their young crew

They should have stayed home – this day they will rue

They’ve locked themselves out so they descend on  neighbor Lars

Lovely Oregon sky. No UFOs to be seen.   🙂

Ghosts

A family moves into our old home.

Meaning, it is old in age.

Also,

Old.

Meaning it was ours when we were living.

My husband and I.

We passed away three days

Apart.

A year

Ago.

Still, we wander.

How do we settle in a new place after fifty

Five years

Together?

In the same

Home?

We are not

Wise

We were not in

Life.

We are not in

Death.

———-

The new family is a couple.

Together.

Twenty years. Two daughters. One son.

The son, twelve.  Daniel.

The daughters, nine, and five. Stella and

Serena.

———-

My husband smiles. He says, darling you’ve done

Your

Homework.

I say, yes. This place was and is important to

Us.

I say, look, sweetheart. They keep our roses neatly

Trimmed. And they’ve kept the house

The Robin’s egg blue I love so.

Then I say,

The oak.

How it has grown in only one

Year.

———-

He says, shall we go in?  They won’t see

Us.

I surprise myself by saying,

No.

———-

I like the outside. It’s June.

Roses.

Pink, yellow, burgundy, true red.

Heavenly scent.

I can’t take one.

Against the

Rules.

———-

Darkness falls

I take in a quick shallow breath.

I can, still, though I’m no longer living.

As can

Husband

I see our little calico kitty, Charlotte in the shadows that remain. Under the blue

Hydrangea.

Madeleine, across the street, took her

In.

I long to hold her one more time.

Husband says, sweetie. She can’t see

Us.

And I know this. We are transparent.

My heart

Breaks. I can hear it.

The sound of a small branch snapping.

A lilac branch heavy with blossoms.

Fleeting.

———-

I cry. Harder than I did when I was living.

In pain.

I say I only want to touch the front door of the home I love

So much.

Also, against the rules. Look, but don’t

Touch.

We could enter, without

Touching.  But still

Feeling.

It’s too much.

Husband pulls a pair of clippers from a

Pocket.

I say, but Charles!

The rules!

But he walks to my favorite bush,

An antique pink, clips off a fully blossomed

Rose. Stem attached.

He says, you know, Emily, that I have never been

A strict rule

Follower.

I hold it to my heart.

Sweet scent, thorns, and all.

Limerick Story – Four Verses

Yesterday a comma came to my door

A colon offered to sweep my living room floor

None of this made any sense

I looked out and saw an apostrophe leap my fence

After all this a period brought itself to the fore

I must admit I have writer’s block

That’s why punctuation came to my door to flock

They wanted merely to come to my aid

All they found were my pages filleted

What I’d written so far was just drivel and a crock

My idea for a mystery came to naught

The killer was way too early caught

The whole story ended way too soon

And why did I make the culprit an obvious goon

In the way of suspense there was not a lot

The punctuation arrived just in time

I have a neat house and my tale’s beginning to shine

Some of my commas have got to go

And all the apostrophe’s* in plurals are a no no

The periods say that readers dislike rhyme

*apostrophe added for effect, and “poetic” license.

Nothing to do with the post, I just like the photo.   😊

Old and Young

Old oak teaches young,

History

Many greats ancestors,

Fossilized.

Pressed between limestone

Pages.

Of megaannums,

Myth,

As well, truth.

Chapters buried under layers of

Stone, earth.

Time, the

Author

————

Age, young tree cannot

Fathom.

Then, fathoms of seas,

Deep

Old says, where we stand,

Once water.

She tells Young,

More years,

Many more years will go

By.

You will grow tall,

Elegant, she

Says.

Robins will nest in your

Branches.

Families.

They are trees of another kind

———-

Old says, now rain is on its

Way

Our thirst will be

Quenched.

———-

Young says, Elder,

Tomorrow will you tell me more

Stories?

I want to

Listen.

Old Trees and Young

A River At Night

A River at gloaming,

Then,

Night.

Movement.

Away from village.

Toward forested

Secrets,

Wildlife, resting or

Hunting?

Moonlight, dimmed but

Reckless.

River rushes,

Works.

The art of its voice,

As nighttime narrative.

Its journey disguises sounds,

Of lovers

Coupling,

Of ancient stones come to

Life.

Fabric of water, smooth silken

Shadows,

Cobalt, silver.

Its destination,

The tides.

Swallowed by sea dragons guarding

Their

Keeps.

Keeping their confidences.

Aspiring to conquer fire breathing

Islands.

The tales they could tell of River At Night.

A River in Daytime. It likely has its own secrets.

Soon Summer

Damselfly,

By another name

Darns blades of grass,

Sometime dowser –

Water lover.

———-

Rose bush spider.

Ruefully,

Eyes flies

Her familiar,

Her precious silk.

Weaves.

Waits.

Incautious prey

Plus

Fiber, magical.

———-

Morning, misted.

Clover makes bare feet feel,

Welcome.

Buzzing bumbles cast spells,

Meditative,

Calm.

———–

Remember,

Look up!

Wandering Cirrus.

Cumulonimbus.

———–

Towhees, fledged.

Crows, eyes peeled.

Their throaty, murderous

Song.

Open windows, breezes,

Blue satin, shenanigans.

———–

Choose your own adventure,

A novel in stories,

Shade of maples,

Love under weeping.

Willows.

Couples part.

Couples join.

———–

The tales Summer could tell.

Of a Summer Evening