Saturday, November 10, 2018

A poetic salute on Veteran's Day


A SALUTE

It's Veteran's Day, and in my mind
I see the flags and guns aligned,
parading down the thoroughfare,
cheers and chanting everywhere.

With wholeness gone, but proud and free,
from wheelchair, an amputee
waves tearfully, perhaps through pain
and hopes it was not all in vain,
                                                   his sacrifice.

Memories--still vivid--swirl,
blitzing those who served at Pearl;
the Rangers now, though all old men,
smile proudly as they think again
                                                     of Normandy.

Gunner's mates, ensigns and chiefs
remember all their various griefs
and hells, awaking still to screams
of slogging through the swamp in dreams
                                                                   of Vietnam.

Returned to glorious accolades,
the troops of Desert Storm parade,
proud of their work in blinding sands,
defending Kuwait's borderlands
                                                   on Persia's gulf.

And in my mind's projection room,
I hear the drum's resounding boom,
reminding me of sacrifice,
of pain and death: the awesome price
                                                            of freedom.

PL, written November 11, 1989.

c 2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA


Thursday, October 25, 2018

Blogging: 'mums & haiku

plants in for winter
Christmas cactus budding
in late October
~ ~ ~

red vine adorning
the bridge abutment--
approach both with care
~ ~ ~

after the crows,
small birds jibby & schree
--red honey locust
~ ~ ~ 

ecru over brown
leaves on the trail...…..farther
splashes of orange
~ ~ ~

6:00 a. m.
the cat & I both stretching
toward another day
~ ~ ~


an owl's whoawh
breaking the morning silence
over the deer stand
~ ~ ~ 



c 2018, PL, d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Sunday, October 21, 2018

Found poems from my readings


--formed from Bob Lancaster's, column, Arkansas Times, Oct.3, 2003
I.
history laughs
at our attempts to corral
it into a text
II.
history
only taught in the school
of hard knocks
III.
old timers
know history
by empathy
~ ~ ~


--formed from "Natural Light," an essay by Edw. Hougland, Harper's, Oct 2000
I.
the yellow-throat song
from the raspberry patch
--a pair of beavers
II.
the mink frog's call--
a raven answers
in similar voice
~ ~ ~

--formed from Bill Hall, editorial page editor, Lewiston (ID) Tribune, Oct.1.1999

a mother's knowing--
fury in grown child's worry
speaks to her of love
~ ~ ~

--formed from a letter in Birds & Blooms, Oct/Nov, 2005, p. 46

Mrs.. Cherry's
dilemma--how to keep squirrels
away from her pears
~ ~ ~



--formed from Rick Bragg's, All Over But the Shoutin', several pages, Oct. 29, 2003

I.
"Baby Brother"

never had a name,
making it easier
to forget him (p.67)
II.
much of the Old South's
in books on coffee tables
in Greenwich Village
III.
oscillating fan
blowing flies around
the living room (p.70)
~ ~ ~



c 2018, PL d/b/a/ lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Saturday, October 13, 2018

blogging: poems of mid-October


CONTEST WINNER
Can you
imagine a
two-thousand, five-hundred-
twenty-eight pound pumpkin? How would
it taste?
~ ~ ~ ~ from ADG's News in brief, 10.1.'18

NEARLY THAT TIME AGAIN
HAMMER,
FARMER, BAPTIST
among election signs
along the highways in Saline
County.
~ ~ ~ ~

woodpecker eating
the rest of the abandoned
suet cake
~ ~ ~ ~
A LEAF AND A SPIDER WEB
Oak leaf
caught in a web
dances without a net
or puppet strings. It's a brown bird
flying.
After
a gust of wind
both the leaf and the web
that held it flew off, never to
return.
~ ~ ~ ~




Hearing,
then seeing, a
flock of geese flying west
on this early, first cold snap of
autumn.

c 2018, PL d/b/ lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Friday, September 28, 2018

Summer is a-goin' out, fall is comin' in - Poems & photos


Summer
left grudgingly
with an hour's thunder,
wind blowing still-green leaves from two
maples.
~ ~ ~ ~

wisteria
clipped from crape myrtle
sending up a shoot
~ ~ ~ ~

Stretching
for the suet
--to no avail--the finch
finally hops to a closer
branch, eats.
~ ~ ~ ~

A wren
flies to the porch,
then to the flowerbed.
A hummingbird whirrs in to sip
red sage.
~ ~ ~ ~
Baby
lizard dares to
emerge from behind the
porch box; I shake my footstool, it
goes back.
~ ~ ~ ~


across the sidewalk
dandelions facing 'mums
summer into fall
~ ~ ~ ~

brown thrasher
enjoying the suet
alone
~ ~ ~
Mother's Day hibiscus



Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Blogging with poems about 9-11

                                                                       Lest we forget

STILL TOO EMOTIONAL
Folding
pages of news
about 9-11
anniversary till I can
take it.
[2002]
~ ~ ~

bereaved families
their loved ones returned
piece by piece
             eventually
[2006]
~ ~ ~

World Trade Towers
"attacked...aflame...
aground
      &
medical teams,
volunteers of all colors
in hospital green
       &
two days later,
he pulls his "9-11" shirt
from a jumbled drawer
[2012]
~ ~ ~

The flag
billowed in gusts
of winds that moved cloud streaks
through the pale blue sky and across
the sun.
[2012]

SHUDDER . . . CHILL
Sixty
degrees on Nine-
Eleven, 15 years
since the bombing of the World Trade
Towers.
[2016]
~ ~ ~

JOURNAL ENTRIES, 2018
On swing.
Raining gently.
In the distance, a train.
Cloudy, almost breeze-less. Lest we
forget.
   
      &

the flag
dripping tears
of rain
~ ~ ~



c2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

More August poems and photos

Door-side table, decorated for company

in a wobbly hand
her thank-you letters
83rd birthday
(my mom)
~ ~ ~

neighboring lawns die
above the red-brick fence
bougainvillea
~ ~ ~
                  My pitifully-blooming bougainvillea. Next year, I'll know to cut it 'way back.

from a pine needle
the raindrop shoots prisms
then falls
~ ~ ~

thunderstorm brewing
early morning looking
like late evening
~ ~ ~

predawn porch light
revealing both spider and web
in daylight, no trace
~ ~ ~
early morning trip
sharing the road with the crows
and their breakfast
~ ~ ~
Porch flag in the wind, August '18, Couchwood

spread by the winds
of midsummer
the dreaded thistle
~ ~ ~


Yucca
bloom buds rising,
expanding in sunlight.
One day soon, they'll become three white
torches.



c 2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA