MORE FOUND POEMS

"Where in this state?"

In Arco Times, 'bout every week,
they let us peek
at some place rare.
'Guess where! Guess where!'
This week's a stony creek bank scene:
a big rock--queen
of shoreline. Round--
an ancient mound?
I'll take a guess: old Cripple Creek.
There's fish to seek.
Or bring a chair,
enjoy the air.

[a Minute pattern, PL 8. 3. '13, from an Arkansas Times picture]
~~

"89 Years Straight, then . . . . "

war, scandal, earthquake
couldn't stop the World Series
but players' strike did

[PL, Senryu form, from the news, 9. 15. '04]
~~

"Also Gauguin"

"One hell
of a haul," he
said, describing an art
heist of Picasso, Matisse and
Monet.

[PL, Cinquain, from the news, 10. 12. '12]
~~

"Keep it Down Out There!"
or"Can't a Fellow get Some Sleep Around Here?"

Sticking
it's head out from
inside the bird feeder,
a raccoon glares at the feeding
nuthatch.

[PL, from Birds 'N Blooms photo, O/N, '03,
written 10. 15. '03]
~~

POEMS WRITTEN DURING VARIOUS OCTOBERS

THERE GOES
A YELLOW LEAF
SAILING ACROSS THE PORCH
AND THROUGH THE RAILING DOWN TO THE
WOODPILE.
(Writers' Colony at Dairy Hollow, 2011)
~~
The rose
I almost tossed
during the summer heat
now full of buds that will shortly
bloom pink.
(Couchwood, 2012)
~~
BLISSFUL
AND QUIET, BUT
FOR A DISTANT TRAIN, A
REVVING MOTORCYCLE . . . AND, OH,
A BIRD.
(WCDH porch, 2011)
~~
Looking
up just in time
to watch a lone red leaf
drifting, adding to the autumn
carpet.
(WCDH, 2012)
~~
AGAIN,
BEFORE DAWN, THUGS
ARE BASHING MAILBOXES.
NO, THE NIGHT-SHIFT NEIGHBOR'S SPLITTING
SOME WOOD
(Arkadelphia, 2003)
~~
Should I
move to a chair
closer to the front door,
or be peppered by rain on the
porch swing?
(Couchwood, 2010)

PL- dba lovepat press

IN MEMORY OF LEW TAYLOR - POET AND FRIEND

LEWIS BUTLER TAYLOR - 1925 - 2014

 

My writing drips from off my pen,

or, on rare occasions, pours,

as case may be.

While either betides I hardly sleep,

but hold my pail to catch such drippings as I can.

 

I do not turn the spigot on,

I do not know who mans the tap,

but since each drop may be the last,

I try to save whatever I can

before the tap runs dry.

 

LT- from "Author's Preface" to Leaked From the Pail, 2003, edited/ published by Lovepat Press, Benton Arkansas

 

~~

 

PET BURIAL

 

This little grave I dig will hold

the dachshund form of my shadow

for the last fourteen years.

Each spade of earth rekindles another memory

. . . .

I dig to rock.

His place dug here

is like the hole left in my life.

I ponder whether my going to join him

will leave as large a hole in any life.

 

I wrap him in his blanket

and bid a teary goodbye,

each of my tears mourning loss,

but also my own mortality.

 

LT - Ibid, p. 8.

 

LIFE TREE

 

Autumn

years are golden?

Autumn leaves are golden

just before they sere, to fall from

the tree.

 

LT - Ibid, p. 28.

 

PASSAGE

 

Autumn

spreads sere brown leaves

on pasture, field and lawn.

Fall moves from then to then. Thus, too,

we go.

 

LT - Ibid, p. 39.

 

 

Rest in Peace, my dear friend Lew.

What's gotten into the crows? Why are they so noisy?

505 Spring St., Eureka Springs in October - PL

 

fishing off the dock

taking time

to clear her mind

 

[picture: M.S. Gerrits, AD-G]

~~

 

she buys

a high-waisted panty shaper

and a candy bar

~~

baby bumblebee

visits

dianthus

and wandering jew

blossoms

~~

on the porch

waiting

for the promised rain

~~

crows

behind me

speaking

in long

sentences

~~

robins

involved

in something

upsetting or exciting

making plans

to migrate?

or protesting

the obnoxious

crows?

~~



c 2014, Pat Laster dba lovepat press 



Autumn poems: Neville Saylor, Marguerite Palmer, Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni

RHAPSODY IN AUTUMN
by (the late) Neville Saylor,
long-time member of Poets Roundtable of Arkansas

As Autumn's song drifts through the hills,
The trees in brilliant disarray
All dance to rhapsody which fills
Each moment of this perfect day.

My heart responds by beating time
While waltzing to her merry air,
As nature pipes a tune sublime
To lure me to a woody lair.

In sun-splashed beds of mossy green
Which hold the pale tenacious roots,
On paths that wear a frosty sheen
Above the tender sleeping shoots,

Let me lie as a dormant seed
To rest among the golden tones
As Autumn's music fills my need
Till Spring bursts forth to warm my bones.

~~ from Captive Harmony, by Hazel Gaither and Neville Saylor, 1995
~~~~~

AUTUMN IN THE OZARKS
by Marguerite Palmer, Little Rock,
PRA Honorary Member

The hollows are cloaked in blue-gray haze
shading to purple that matches blooms
of asters starring the dusty trail
where goldenrod waves feathered plumes.
Now softly plinking, the acorns fall;
and loudly cawing, the brash crow flies.
The night and the day share half and half
this time of the year when autumn lies
over the land and deep in the heart
so full to bursting it over-spills,
joining the medley of wild life song
when autumn comes to the Ozark hills.

~~ from Searching for the Key: Poems by Marguerite B. Palmer, 1999
~~~~

WHY WORRY?
by (the late) Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni
former Poet Laureate of Arkansas

Yesterday is past.
Why should we turn
To watch the flames
Of the sunset burn?
The present is ours
For joy or for grief.
It falls at our feet
Like a dry autumn leaf.
Tomorrow, through seeming
Close-kindred to me,
Is a threat or a promise,
Which may never be!

~~ from Lend me your Ears: A Beakfull of Humorous Verse, by Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni,  1965-66