Willow Mae

Little girl with hair of blue
Lies in bed with books.
Cats surround, sleeping sound
In cozy cabin nook.

Lives offgrid like pagan folk
Free exuberance.
Thrift-shop clothes, painted toes
All dressed up to dance.

She educates herself at home
In midst of forest deep
Runs with bow, and arrow ho
Spirit of Artemis, keeps.

Mixing herbs and oils
Reciting magic spells
Reading more, of ancient lore
She studies all so well.

Whenever she can get to town
She laces up her skates.
Sidewalk bound, glides around
A future Derby great.

She’s wishing for a Guinea pig
and builds a special cage.
A friend to all, old and small
This lovely fairy sage.

(Happy Earthday Birthday, Willow!)

Blues

Sitting by candlelight
Radio plays the Blues.
Awaiting a text,
Cringing at another.
Nothing a mug of brandy won’t fix.
So he thinks.

Set ourselves up.
Can’t say yes
Can’t say no
Are we really only
WhoWePlease?
Living our joy ? Selfish!

Turn off the phone.
Lock the door.
Snuggle warm in bed.
Read a book.
Or sleep early and dream deep,
Let the Blues Mama tell ya how to live.

Wake tomorrow
Be your true self
Keep notes on what happens!
At night, laugh, and understand.
Maybe write a book. Or a good poem.

Live passion. Die authentic.
Secretly fall in love with the moon.

Inaction

Like a foreign book,
I don’t know you, who you are.
All words, no pictures.

Elections

Polls open in Wisconsin
Electors have their say
No need this time for picture I.D.
(perhaps later in the day?)

The older folks come early
And share about their lives
One had a stroke, a barn burned down
Marriage, divorce, who’s died.

Complaints on those in Government
Lamenting price of gas
The ill-effects of Lipidor
Who still smokes, or has.

Later on the young ones come
Bringing kids from school
In and out, no talk about
Important things to do.

Does anyone like to vote
Except as claim to complain
Do they feel it doesn’t count,
Politicians are all the same!

In many lands they die to vote
Uprisings every day
Here, we turn the phone off
To skip hearing “Vote for blank”

At fifty, I’m the young one here
Chief Inspector for the day
Who will come to run the polls
As the older ones pass away?

Seasons

Summer stomped out the last days
of winter
And stole the entrance
of spring

Then, the argument.
Brisk wind whips trash in angry blows.
Hot sun heats seedlings to greenhouse growth.
By morning, thin ice slicks the lawn.

Behave, children of Nature!

Winter dies
No sorrow.
Spring abides
With bravado!
Summer hides,
til the ‘morrow.

Frogs

I miss the frogs.
Early week of warming
Coaxed them out.
Now, parental frogs hide in mud,
Spawn left to freeze.

Long before dawn,
Coyotes
Then wolves,
Now, owls.
Outside my bedroom window.

I’ve covered blooming currants.

I can’t stop the warming,
But I can protect from the cold.

Woodstove warms today,
but I so miss the frogs.

Rise up

I’ve no tolerance for intolerance.
I can love, but won’t give love, to those who won’t love others. I refuse to give money to those who refuse to feed the hungry or heal the ill.
Nor shall i allow the rich/ religious/powerFull/ to perpetuate uneducated masses of humans, particularly our youth, to enjoy force fed ignorance of cheap employment / war-faring/ pseudo ideology / fake techno gaming happiness.

We shall rise to an integrity of our own.

Anarchy = without leader.