story | a poem in my pocket

once upon a time at grandma’s house…

25 Jan 2023 15 Comments

by lynn__ in story Tags: granddaughters, grandma, princess, queen

sometimes my grand daughters
dress up as princesses and live
together in make-believe castle
(partitioned basement toy room)

wearing single toy crown, one of
them acts as the queen and she
invariably invites me to come for
a visit with royals at their palace

when addressing the queen, one
must be respectful but i get into
trouble by casually referring to her
little highness as “Queenie Poo”

they predictably haul me off
to the jailer’s dungeon where
they mercifully bring me books
and copious meals of fake food

eventually, i am released but
regretfully have not yet learned
my lesson and the story repeats
to the general delight of all parties

____________

I’ve written a few poems about my grandmothers (“I Remember Them”) and grandchildren but here’s a new story poem for dVerse.

coffee shop poetry

25 Feb 2020 25 Comments

by lynn__ in story Tags: business, coffee shop, grocery store, haircuts, small town, women

two mature women,
we follow each other
around our small town
from pharmacy to the
grocery store; probably
visited same hair stylist
(who is also my niece)
by shape of our haircuts

smile, exchange names
by parked grocery carts
mourn recent loss of
local coffee shop which
offered espresso, lattes,
(and favorite chai tea)
along with scones, tarts,
and crusty baguettes.

why couldn’t our town
sustain the business?
would anyone start it
again (sans machines,
a larger investment)?
we need a place like it
although obviously we
didn’t patronize enough

better than starbucks,
unique small town shop
with drive-up window
and friendliest service
has me contemplating
the reason for reading
(or even for writing) a
daily poem, served hot.

Borrowed line from L.L. Barkat: “contemplating the reason for reading a daily poem” for Poems from the Coffee Shop prompt at Tweetspeak Poetry. Also linking with dVerse Poets where Merril prompts us to write about “impermanence”.

crumbling lady edifices crucifix

17 Apr 2019 9 Comments

by lynn__ in free verse, story Tags: crucifix, dust, flame, heaven, hymn, island, pyre, smoke, towers

Dark-vowelled smoking columns aspire ruin

as dust-tongued, forested roof caves innavely;

water-spoken island surrenders to timbers

of flamed and lillified heaven-circling pyre.

Aghast of tragedy, fire-dwarfed gargoyles are

hearting a tear-culled Paris in hymnally tone

to dignify bell-voiced ash of towering ages;

above rubble, The King’s cross, power-gilded stands.

Linking to dVerse poetics with Laura Bloomsbury and loving the hyphenate-coined words by poet Dylan Thomas (as featured in my poem).

inheritance

24 Apr 2018 30 Comments

by lynn__ in rhyming verse, story Tags: brother, dad, inheritance, mannerisms, mother, voice

Mother died, age twenty-five

(of flu-asthma complication)

I, barely 16 months & weaned,

bereft. of primal-love relation.

Passed fears of childhood years

(growing up with best-step brother)

when mom’s older sister said to me,

“you remind me of your mother.”

“Oh, tell me how, right now” I cried

breath-bated wait for answer

she smiled at me and said, ”I see

it’s plain-obvious in your manner,

Voice like hers & when you speak

your hands move just as hers had”

precious-treasure words I heard…

while mirror says I look like dad!

Kim is hosting inherited “body image” poetics prompt at dVerse Poets

pond-erings

19 Apr 2018 17 Comments

by lynn__ in ekphrastic, story Tags: acorns, bike, crawdad, goose, mud, pond, turtle

Sarah hosts “ekphrastic” poetry (inspired by visual art) at dVerse Poets!

art by Fay Collins

Wheels
whizzing
on steep
downhill
bike path
trying to
avoid fallen
acorns and
slick goose
droppings
which may
skid tires
and flip a
rider over
handlebars
splashing
into cool
water and
algaed
scum of
Cooter’s
Pond…
may also
disturb
turtles or
crawdads
buried in
muddy
bottom

Whooaah!

puzzling

11 Apr 2018 4 Comments

by lynn__ in free verse, story Tags: farm, grandson, ocean, puzzle, sea horses, sharks

i bought
a new giant
floor puzzle,
especially for
young grandson

a picture of
fascinating
creatures who
live under the
ocean waves

sharks, eels,
sting rays and
cute clownfish
anemones, stars,
and sea horses

but he chooses
the old favorite
floor puzzle of
familiar farm
animals…again

🙂

Joining Elsie at Ramblings of a Writer with theme”Under the Ocean”

grandma’s bait shop

28 Mar 2018 16 Comments

by lynn__ in free verse, story Tags: bike, boats, clouds, cottage, garden, petunias, pier

it’s a sunny-side up

Pixabay image

happy-spatula kind of day

outgoing fish boats bob:

“goodbye, dear old pier”

children find glinty pebbles

to hopscotch village street

under random puffs of

gourmet popcorn clouds

reflection of blue-er sky,

grandma’s retro/deco bike

blooms petunia pink

beside faded stucco cottage

outback/inside pickety fence

she digs in earthworm garden

boy swings dilapidation’s gate;

hook-line fresh on bamboo pole

Linking cheer at dVerse Poets pub today…

archetypical apple

24 Jan 2018 10 Comments

by lynn__ in free verse, story Tags: apple, cyanide, death, eve, poison, sin

What strange poison

did woman reach

for in the garden?

mother of all living bit into death for all

Was it a stinging tree

that touched her with

heart-shaped leaves?

intoxicating nature of toxic relations

Was she anesthetized

by curare-tipped dart

from satan’s blowpipe?

it can kill as easily as it can cure

Would eve even

succumb to snakeroot,

from salesman selling herbs?

fruit to make wise and pleasing to eyes

Would she suspect

the seeds of lovely apple

convey hydrogen cyanide?

seed of deception is sin, fruit of sin is death

link to source

true blue salute

11 Aug 2016 30 Comments

by lynn__ in story, Uncategorized Tags: blue, clouds, jet, navy, ocean, pilot

former navy pilot unpacks

fond memories of his days

ordered in pristine uniform,

life aboard aircraft carrier.

forever alert, he still scans

ocean-blue expanse of sky

beyond white-sand islands

of floating cumulous puffs.

reminisces one shining hour:

officer’s personal invitation

to test-flight new jet fighter,

before honorable discharge.

accelerate to pure freedom;

loop-de-loop clouds, swoop

between sapphire skies and

cerulean sea, defy gravitas.

reverie reverts, retiree points

up – “those clouds look innocent

yet pose real threat to pilots;

may harbor hail, wind shears.”

in worn-out lawn chair, he bird

watches as sleek indigo swallows

swiftly cruise from barn hangar

to sail into loyal-blue heavens.

photo: wiki commons

A memory my 82 yr. old father shared with me while staying at our house this summer and linking with dVerse poets OLN in response to De’s “blue” prompt.

cemetery guardian

16 Jun 2016 26 Comments

by lynn__ in free verse, story Tags: angel, cemetery, grave, marble, statue

St. George’s Cemetery, Bermuda

Near white sand beach,
inside the old church yard,
I stand watchful guard over
earthly body of departed child;
another angel, in human form,
who visited briefly here to be
caught in a rapid blue riptide.
I can only offer marble blooms
and silent stony vigilance.

Come visit the small grave
and cry on my empty arm,
broken from reaching; touch
my clipped wing, fractured
by gathered years of sorrow.
But even as heaven’s stars
gaze, I know the sweet spirit
has taken flight, like red scent
of hibiscus on ocean breeze.

Link to dVerse Poets Pub where Lillian is hosting a “chiseled conversation”…the photograph above is hers!

the accident

06 Nov 2015 21 Comments

by lynn__ in enjambment, free verse, story Tags: accident, hay, horse

Linking to De’s prompt at dVerse on enjambment…

(Enjambment occurs when a phrase carries over a line-break without a major pause)

hay claw/pulley on ebay

If i remember right,

his grandfather told

story of when

they were filling

barn loft with

hay crop of

rectangular bales in

clutches of six, hung

from clawed

bale hook swung

from hay wagon up, up, up

in-to

loft’s massive open

door,

slide creeeaking toward back of

loft and released with a

jerkkk

when close to position of men stacking

bales (by hand) inside barn.

Metal framed hooks hung from

pulley on cable while entire

mechanism was

operated by horse power; this day’s

chosen

beast of burden was

neighbor’s loyal work horse, well-trained to

obey master’s voice commands.

They had un-loaded

a few clutches of hay bales when some-

thing terrible, when some-

thing went terribly

wrong…

The horse, wearing blinders,

un-expectedly sidestepped, shying

in fear from un-certain threat, whether

dog barked, kitten scampered, or

barn swallow

swooped,

that horse jumped off path, over low curb of wide

shallow well, covered by light lumber;

the now terrified animal’s weight

broke through

boards…

men watched helplessly as it

down into

the w

and drowned.

a poem in my pocket