Damian Balassone: The Elephant Poet
I aspired to write her poetry
in the saucy style of Robert Herrick;
but she ripped my verse to pieces
and said I looked like Joseph Merrick.
♥ ♥ ♥
Robin Helweg-Larsen: Prose and Poetry
I long for Prose – but darkly, distantly,
She looks at far-off lands.
It’s Poetry who brings persistently
Small gifts in small white hands.
♥ ♥ ♥
J. D. Smith: Memorandum
Petrarch: Re Beatrice, Laura
Don’t think that I’m not grateful for
The heights they led you to,
But weren’t they, when you stop to think,
A little young for you?
♥ ♥ ♥
Robin Helweg-Larsen: Seasonal
When Mr. Warm-as-winter-under-the-covers
Meets Cool-as-summer-in-the-evening-breeze
He’ll spring to leave ideas they could be lovers -
But her thoughts fall away like leaves from trees.
♥ ♥ ♥
Liza McAlister Williams: So there . . .
You say you don’t like house plants, you think they’re silly
like other forms of excess, fussy and frilly.
But I adore my house plants – oxalis, Calla lily:
they smile at me reliably when you are chilly.
♥ ♥ ♥
Tom Vaughan: Walking on the Moon
Walking on the moon one day
I saw a planet far away.
That must be earth! I cried – it looks
just like they said it would, in books.
♥ ♥ ♥
Brian S. Lee: Logic-Chopping
“I’ve chopped your cherry tree down, Dad.
I’ve told you, like a truthful lad.
But there’s no need for you to worry,
I’ll chop it up now, in a hurry!”
♥ ♥ ♥
Jerome Betts: Something Up A Tree
I envy – what a vital spark! –
A squirrel with its nimble pins.
How easily it shins up bark
Where I’d just slip and bark my shins!
