MM's Represented Poems for 2009, Best of luck! Options

[Cleo_Serapis]

JANUARY SELECTIONS:


SONNET 73 Paraphrased by Ronald Jones


The fall of autumn leaves, denuding trees,
Regales in crispy crackling song-like sound.
A crunching tune arising 'round my knees
From boughs where boist'rous birds of song were found...
The price I pay is youthful years now passed,
For like their way, I too, have served my time
And so accept the years I have amassed.
Those waning rays, now set, forswear my prime.
But still in me, you see a spark, a glow,
Though ashes stifle embers, I'm still warm!
So let me crunch and crackle, you must know
We all return from whence we came, in form.
Let love abide, despite my dimming light,
And then, as darkness comes, my midnight's bright.



Late Snow by Larry D. Jennings


Emerging from my chrysalis, I see
the face of Winter’s crystal tressed milieu
abiding still. Her breath confronting me;
instead of flower petals washed in dew.

Something’s awry, for Nature’s call was clear.
“Emerge and go into a springtime’s youth!”,
away from prison chambers, which adhere
to limbs, still barren; gnawed by icy tooth.

I sense no respite near. With these furled wings,
a flight to other climes is not a choice.
Rime covered now from chilling wind which sings
my dirge. Life’s verdict read without a voice.

Upon the silv’ry shroud from fate’s wry hand
lies death, a rainbow frozen in time’s sand.



December Streetwalkers by Eric Linden


December darkness nibbles bits of day
until there’s hardly any left, it seems,
at least not much. Ice covered ponds and streams
are Meccas for both young and old to play
a game of shinny. Children on their sleighs
go hurdling down embankments – mortal screams,
as off they spill into a drift. Two teams
in forts let snowballs fly each other’s way.

Electric lights in rainbow-colored hues
adorn the busy city streets and stores
where shoppers bustle back and forth, like bees.
And everywhere you look, each avenue
has yards and homes alit in bright decors;
wreaths hang on doors, garlands on leafless trees.

It’s almost solstice time. How woeful nights
appear to one misguided, tortured soul
who works nocturnal downtown streets where lights,
like bright electric stardrops, hang from pole
to pole, aglitter in December air.

A speaker somewhere overhead blares out
What Child is This, then Jingle Bells. “Who cares?”
she thinks, and moves away. “It’s all about
the mighty buck today, which I ain’t got
and by the looks of things, I’ll never get.”

Salvation Army bells. Their plastic pots
hold hope that expectations can be met
and no-one goes off hungry at this time.
Each contribution helps – five dollars or a dime.

[Cleo_Serapis]

JUNE SELECTIONS:


A Gray Area by Stephen Pray


No one notices his presence,
pretending nonexistence.
Even I, who know better,
refuse that patch of gray
seen in peripheral vision.

Talking in hushed tones
as if he wouldn’t hear,
his ears are huge,
how could he not?

And each endearing step
sends shudders through my bones.
As in his dance,
he gracelessly pounds the floor.

In the shocking silence
that ripples back and forth
through the room,
I hear him snuffling at canapés and petit fours.

Perhaps their red-rimmed eyes block the view,
or maybe as a child only I know…
the elephant is there.



A Seed by Larry D. Jennings


Here in my Mother’s heart I lie asleep,
sweet shelter from Her minion’s icy breath,
I wait beneath Her umber skin. Too deep
to hear that song; a howling dirge of death

for those, wind kissed. Light’s portals ever close!
No more to feel the sunshine’s warming touch
the coming showers carry down to those
as fortunate as I. New life is such

a precious gift. Each Spring I’m born anew
to feed the butterflies… bless eyes of men
who venture near my home. Those lucky few
that see my face, dew washed, in forest glen

are like my Mother’s heart which shelters me.
A seed of thought, kept safe in memory.