The
Windsock
Of
Our
Dreams,
The
Runway
Of
Our
Life,
The
Flight
We
Wait
For,
Late
To
Arrive,
The
Hope
We
Strive
To
Keep
Alive,
The
Lover
Balanced
In
The
Air,
Thin
With
Winter.
Waiting: Gate 12
The Windsock Of Our Dreams, The Runway Of Our Life, The Flight We Wait For, Late To Arrive, The Hope We Strive To Keep Alive, The Lover Balanced In The Air, Thin With Winter.
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Exit, Pursued By A Bear
The Fate Of The Actor Is Never Actually To Be What The Audience Can See. They Strut And Fret, But Seldom Get Beyond The Pose, The Hairdo Or The Clothes. We Receive The Emotional Relief, And They Take On The Grief, The Excess And The Rage Doled Out On Every Player’s Page, Five Nights A Week, And Two Matinees. March Thursday
White Linen Clouds Curtain The Sky As Morning Slips By. In An Hour, A Shower Of Silvery Coins Fall To Spatter The Walk. Sparrows Huddle And Whisper-talk Under The Mimosa Tree As Drops Puddle Between The Coming Day And Me. The Last Page
“My Little Macaroon,” The Villain Crooned, In A Voice That Echoed Through Her Head, “Make The Choice, Forget The Prince And Instead, Come And Sleep In My Bed.” “Nay, Sir,” Breathed The Princess With A Sigh, “I should Rather Die.” With That, She Poked The Dastard In The Eye With A Sharp Stick, Which Did The Trick, Escaped The Hassle Of The Castle, And Off She Went, Firmly Intent On Saving The Realm, Her Handsome Hero At The Helm. Harry’s Lament
I thought Of It, He Confessed, Then I forgot. Said I would, Knew I should, Then Enmeshed In All The Rest, Did Not. I imagined I was Unfit, I admit, Did Not Take Up My Pen, Stretch A Canvas And Begin. Hesitation Was My Sin. I lingered At The Door, Too Timid To Knock, Bedeviled By The Clock, And In My Riches, Thought Myself Poor. Lovers Of Beauty, Do Your Duty Most Sacred. Most True. In Art, Nothing Less Will Do. Sick
I have A Hideous Bug No Drug Can Cure, And Must Endure Some Days Of Being Dragged Over The Gravel As I unravel. Oh, Gods Of Health, Rain Down Your Wealth On This Poor Dame, And Let Her Be The Same As Before This Virus Waltzed In The Door. |
AuthorJeanette Collins Archives
March 2024
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