Posts Tagged ‘winter



Birch trees extend their bare tan limbs
To catch the last rays of warmth thrown by the winter sun.

[In case you hadn’t guessed, this poem is titled “150” because it is the 150th poem posted to this blog. I’m open to other titles for it though; Drop me a comment and make a suggestion.]


Winter Afternoon

The yellow schoolbus disappears, reappearing
above a clump of evergreens as it labors
uphill to deliver its passengers to their homes,
homes warmed by the smell of roasting meat, carrots, potatoes,
Noble firs, gingerbread cookies, coffee brewing, fires crackling at the hearth.
Silver plumes of smoke rise from the chimneys on the hillside
Then join the steely storm clouds bringing snow.


7 A.M. 23 Degrees

I am Smaug and you are some other dragon.
We are wondering who has disturbed our rest,
Luring us to this wild and desolate spot-
At the end of the driveway-
Where we consume passing cars with our steaming breath.



Sitting on an inner tube at the top of the hill,
Shivering from- cold? adrenaline? anticipation?- till you
Slipped your arms around me, pulling me
Snugly against your warm body. Holding tight, I leaned back… back. In
Slow motion we started our descent, but you expertly
Steered us toward the welcoming sofa, your lips moving against mine-
Softly at first- while my heart swooped and careered.
Suddenly, though by nature a flightless bird, I am free and
Soaring above the surface of the frozen lake. Coming to earth at last with a
Slight bump, I am exhilarated, breathless, eager to return to the

[Thanks for the title @Astrogirl426.]


Walking ‘Round In Hubby’s Underwear

Ratty things my man’s been missin’
Didn’t ask his permission
I’m wearing his jock
It’s stuffed with a sock
Walking ’round in hubby’s underwear.

Frayed long johns that let the gas out
Holey briefs that hang my ass out
I fart and I spit
I belch and pop zits
Walking ’round in hubby’s underwear.

In the drawer you’ll find a leather G-string,
Shiny silver snaps you can undo.
Nancy asks me, “Will you wear it for me?”
Let’s wait till all the Xmas shopping’s through.

Later on, if you like it
We can dress up like Brad Pitt;
We’ll glue on a beard
We won’t look so weird
Walking ’round in hubby’s underwear.

(I wrote these lyrics in about an hour. We were coming home from a Festival of Trees, my kid pointed out I’m the wrong gender to sing “Walking ‘Round In Women’s Underwear” and my brain took it on as a challenge. Feel free to sing it and pass it along.)


#55: A Shakespearean Sonnet

Thou canst but hold me Sonnet one more hour
For I must answer Morpheus’ call anon.
Nectar thoughts lie within night’s Jasmine flower
That girds itself ‘gainst a determined dawn.
Morning’s pernicious fingers stealthy creep
Into the Muse’s garden fecund, green;
They roughly rouse Euterpe from her sleep
Seizing delight in snuffing out her dream.
When man is young, beauty’s the needed sprout-
A rosy cheek, verdant laugh, waves of gold;
Then skin turns, limbs do droop, eyelights go out-
Warm summer hath giv’n way to winter’s cold.
It pleaseth Time to make our words go wrong
So heed early and oft the Siren’s song.



I am knitting
And waiting for the socks to be dry
So the child can put them on
And go to school.
Cars are whooshing by on the wet road.
I hear the tappity-tap as the child checks e-mail.
The only other sound’s the whirr of the dryer
As it demoisturizes the socks.
It would be so easy to make a cup of tea,
To settle back on the couch, lulled into peacefulness by the cars
And the purr of the dryer.
Too late, she’s in the room with me now
Demanding news of the disposition of her socks.