Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Where Grown-Ups Go



I found the place where grown-ups go
When they need to run away
Coasters, ice cream and fried dough
I found the place where grown-ups go
When they tire of the corporate show
And need some time to play
I found the place where grown-ups go
When they need to run away

Monday, November 4, 2013

Seaweed



Tossed upon the shore
All the beauty of a rose
Often overlooked

Sunday, November 3, 2013

The Essayist



She often wrote well into night
Pen to paper by lowered light
When color faded from the day
Words would dance like a cabaret of birds in flight

Most of the stories with her name
Would never bring her much acclaim
This knowledge never stopped her pen
Writing prose again and again, without the fame

A deep love of the written word
Allowed the quiet girl be heard
She bared her soul upon the page
The lady’s passion grew with age, quite undeterred

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Little Boy and His Calf



 There once was a boy with a calf
Who built a house then cut it in half
It really worked well
But would have been hell
Had his pet been a spotted giraffe!

Friday, November 1, 2013

The Typewriter



 Your time has passed my loyal friend
You always put my mind to ease
When sleep would flirt yet not descend
My dreams found freedom in your keys

The outlet for my rambling mind
A voice when I could not speak
Muddled words were soon refined
On your keys now deemed antique

Of your passing, there’s no rejoice
I yearn for sounds of tapping keys
Which meant a writer found her voice
Capturing words from elusive breeze