Little Red Revisited

Little Red didst blithely skip

in forest deep and dark.

Forgetting all had been warned

laughing as if on a lark.

 

She swung her basket to and fro

not looking through her eyes,

for dangers hidden in the trees

not thinking about a disguise.

 

Upon a hunter meek and mild

Little Red didst soon arrive.

With clear blue eyes she smiled

At him, so sweet, so clear, so alive.

 

He spoke of peace and gentle things

and she didst fall in love.

He promised not to hurt her heart

and swore to God above.

 

Red knew him not, but answered yes

despite what she’d been told.

And so struck out on her own

with step both confident and bold.

 

Ignoring signs of pending doom,

Red whistled as she skipped.

Right up to Grandma’s house

and in the door she slipped.

 

In bed poor Grandma slept

with fever and with cold.

Red tiptoed up to see her eyes

and Grandma’s hand to hold.

 

“What big eyes,” Red declared

when Grandma didst awake.

“To see, my dear,” she replied

and took a bite of cake.

 

“What big teeth,” Red did say

when Grandma opened wide.

“To chew, my dear, these lovely

cakes,” she sneakily replied.

 

“What furry arms you have,”

said Red, “but I remember not

when didst thou grow such

lengthy hair could be tied in a knot.”

 

“It keeps me warm on winter’s eve,

and dry during a spring rain.

I’d love to hold you in my arms,

to cradle you once again.”

 

“No, thanks,” said Red for she did see

that things were not all right.

For Grandma dear was way too dark

even in such poor light.

 

“I think I’ll go,” Red didst say

and hurried toward the door.

“You shall not go,” Grandma declared

and sprang feet on the floor.

 

She threw off her cap and gown,

revealing a wolf-like shape.

Red didst scream and run about

attempting to escape.

 

The wolf didst flash a mighty smile

and throw his arms out wide.

Intending to capture Little Red

without wasting even one stride.

 

Suddenly there didst appear

a man both tall and strong.

Red ran to him and told her tale

so he could right a wrong.

 

Listen now for you shall hear

the moral of this tale.

Go careful through yon forest deep

and whilst skipping through a vale.

 

Rescue might not come your way.

To perish could become your plight.

Unless you’re careful to observe

even on the darkest dark night.

 

While Little Red didst escape

and her story she soon didst tell.

You must listen and take care,

so for you things will go well.

 

You cannot walk and prance about,

with head adrift in the skies.

For on you might come, like to Red,

a murderous surprise.

 

Beware, my child, of strangers met

in forest, field, or glen.

For they might be a dangerous sort,

then we’ll not meet again.

 

 

 

 

 

My Plea for Help

In the humdrum sameness

of my everyday life,

as teacher, mother,

sister, and wife

words have fled

causing undo strife,

piercing my heart like

an unsharpened knife

Oh, please, someone

come and rescue me.

Open my eyes that

I soon may see.

Fill my soul with

words: set me free

that I may write

what’s meant to be.

Why have the words

all flown away?

What did I do

to them betray

my inmost thoughts,

my flight from fray.

Come back to me,

without delay

Like a wee small child

I scream and shout.

throw all my pens

and toss about

long empty pages

lines, words without

hoping that soon

I’ll merit clout.

Tell me, please,

how to live again

with words and rhymes

flowing free like rain.

Send down a storm

to complete my brain.

I need you now.

That much is plain.

Thinking Back

Memory fails me, as I try to recall

those things that we did, both momentous and small

 

The many times that we laughed. Those that we cried.

The children born healthy, and old folks who died.

 

But as I grow older, my mind has begun

to forget the details, including the fun

 

things that we did, before our children were born.

When we were that young, was I ever forlorn?

 

Perhaps. As I part the mist that clouds my view,

I see a lonely place, before I met you.

 

My heart was heavy with worries, that’s true.

Sorrows befell my soul, until there was you.

 

With you the sun arose, brightening my way,

and so it continues, to this very day.

 

As I stroll through life, beauty I can now see:

blue sky, birds, butterflies, and the apple tree

 

under which we sat, and talked about our love.

And though it sounds corny, even the white dove

 

that flew high overhead as we pledged our vow

to love forever.  I remember it now!

 

Such a wonderful time!  A beautiful place!

The way we danced and the smile on your face.

 

A white picket fence.  The cookie-cutter house.

The cuddly kitten.  Yes, even a brown mouse.

 

Such an exciting time, those long-ago days.

Our children grew up, then went separate ways.

 

Those things that we did, both momentous and small

As memory tricks me, I sometimes recall.

The Cat

The tuxedo cat sits outside my door again

like it does almost every day

her (at least I think it’s a female)

expectant eyes and heart

waiting for the welcome in

 

She doesn’t ask for much:

clean water, shelter from the weather

food and a few kind words

 

sometimes she comes inside

just long enough to lick

a morsel left behind

by our resident cat

 

then off she goes

tail held high

into her cat world

 

How different are we, really?

Sure, we want shelter, food,

a few kind words and

water to refresh ourselves

but our desires go beyond

those of the simpler cat

 

For us, bigger is better

more is not enough

assailed by ads for food,

clothing, technology

we sense an inadequacy,

a hollowness that cannot be filled

by shelter, food, water,

and a few kind words

 

I want to be like the cat.

Pat me on the back and I’ll sing

a song of exuberance

that rocks this upside-down world.

 

Come, on, cat.

I’m ready!

Bus Stop Woes

Who’d ever think that her heart would shatter

Standing in the glittery sun of the bus stop

 

Her angel, lover, seeker-friend

Arm-in-arm with a fiery siren

Strolled by, then made an effort

To move his “love” to his opposite arm

Like a warrior-shield protecting its prize

 

She choked-back ceaseless cries

Which she buried by her hollow smile

 

Just as a broken-down building

Stands as empty sentinel

To the glory days of steel,

Death reaches its fingers,

Plucks the tendons,

Unscrews the bolts,

Crumbles the façade,

Leaves only remnants of grandeurs past

Exposed to elemental forces.

 

There is no place to hide

Even the semblance of warmth

 

She does not run

Instead she plants roots in the cement

Straightens her shoulders

Stands as a monument to power

 

Healed

Flowers, Flowers Everywhere

It didn’t take too long to realize

That I had begun to fantasize,

And I was forced to carefully apprise

The situation before my eyes.

 

My time had come, that much was certain.

I stupidly stared at the white curtain,

After my legs had stopped their dartin’

And my poor heart had ceased its hurtin’

 

The doctor, a diagram he traced

Of my heart: at me he boldly faced

And now declared, as my eyes gazed

At my demise. I was sorely fazed.

 

Later that day, I died, to my surprise.

Sad I was this good world to be partin’

The flowers still remain where they were placed.

 

Where Once a Bear

Where once a bear swam across a lake

His shifty path lies ensconced in weeds

No fish left to hunt or lairs to make

No biting flies or wavering reeds

 

With heart in pain, in sadness he cries

Where once a bear swam across a lake

His dreams of home adrift in the skies

Too sad to sleep, he remains awake

 

To laugh, emotion too hard to take

Orange flames consuming his heart beat

Where once a bear swam across a lake

Nothing left to provide welcome treat

 

Emptiness embroils his haunted soul

Wriggles in like a poisonous snake

In poetic growls he pays the toll

Where once a bear swam across a lake

 

 

 

 

Mother’s Dreams

Mother, with hair tightly rag-wrapped

Settled in the recliner, napped

 

Dreams drifted to far-flung places

Filled with her relatives’ faces

 

Family friends passed in and out

Love scenes soaked with tremulous doubt

 

A new shape, unfocused, appeared

Walking and snarling, horror feared

 

Creature crazed by darkened deals

Upon the rack, its story reels

 

Angels intrude with halos worn

Arrive with blazing golden horn

 

Suddenly Mother does awake

Feeling fulfilled from her short break

 

Forgotten, threat of creature spawn

Instead aglow with love’s full dawn

Looking Back

I never touched her.

Not really.

I held her hand

and stroked her blue-veined fingers.

I patted her shoulder

and pulled the gown up around her neck.

But I never touched her.

Not really.

I massaged her arms

and tucked the blankets under her legs.

When she cried in pain

and called for someone, anyone to help,

I never touched her.

Not really.

When tears poured down her cheeks

and tremors shook her skeletal frame,

When she struggled to breathe

and begged for water to moisten her lips,

I never touched her.

Not really.

I never looked into her eyes

or kissed her wrinkled cheek.

I should have held her tightly

and chased away her hallucinations.

I never touched her.

Not really.

When she truly needed a friend

and called for someone, anyone to be near,

When she breathed her last breath

and crossed over to God’s side,

I never touched her.

Not really.

Awakening

When my eyes closed,
Your image remained
For hours and hours
Afterward

You walked my dreams
Blessed me with love
For hours and hours
Through the night

Your arms held me
Your kisses bathed me
For hours and hours
With tenderness

When I awoke
You were at my side
For minutes and minutes
In unity

In awe I stared
Into your eyes
For seconds and seconds
Holding you

We drift through time
In loving moments
For years and years
To eternity