Three September Poems

It's time to turn in the themes we completed for the beginning of the school year. Teachers asked how we spent our summer months, and we oblige them by writing about our travels, our adventures, and the books we read.

I'm asking permission to do an alternate assignment this year. May I share three poems this September?

Worlds in Words

A whimsical walrus in icy white waves

Secret formations in curious caves

Grandfather towering redwood trees

Valleys fogged by a tiptoeing breeze. . .

Rainbows of parrots in jungles of green

Soft cozy mosses not usually seen

Wild ponies dancing on islands afar

Waterfalls spilling on rocks all ajar. . .

Golden soft yokes in blue speckled eggs

Baby giraffes on spindly new legs

Crocuses blooming in spring’s crispy air

Ice-capped mountains high above care. . .

I could travel the world to see wonders untamed.

I could spend every day exploring the famed.

Or, I’ll bike down the street where it’s totally free

And my library opens the world’s doors for me.

S'more Lore

My wrinkled toes

D                           

   A                          

     N                       

        G                    

           L                 

             E            

beneath                             

the tire swing,

lightly caressing the

lake’s lazy lapping.

Wood smoke wafts my way.

I tug down damp bottoms

and follow my nose to the source.

Marshmallow speared,

I lift it

above last night’s blackened twin.

Golden Brown—

wait for golden brown.

I twirl and tease my stick

then check

and check again.

Raise.

Repeat.

Oh, don’t defeat me, fire.

Ah. . . golden brown.

Graham cracker snaps.

Chocolate in the gaps.

Stay down, marshmallow.

Stay down.

Wait once more

for

a meltedy moment . . .

my tastebud’s twilight delight.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/6bd853_89f817cc5a834dfcb5c6fb5a05db3aa2/720p/mp4/file.mp4

August with Mary

What is it I plan to do

with my one wild and precious life?

I want to spend August with you,

dip my toe into the soul of the world,

watch the kingfisher hover, levitating

until the arrow of his body strikes clean

through the remnant of gray green silk,

and relive the dream of completing one perfect action.

Let's gaze at pure light transformed into lilies,

look for the silver and golden threads herons

hemmed with halting dance steps

at the edge of our soft velvety blanket.

We’ll float upon it, just high enough

for my spirit’s alchemy to spin

moment to eternity

storing amazement

embracing enough glory

to last all winter’s long defeat.