Two Poems

Once upon a time, I wrote poetry. Then I had kids. Actually, what really happened is that I got married. See, to write poetry I had to be in a certain type of mood--usually somewhat melancholy, or at least a certain amount of solitude and withdrawn or--well, apparently I don't know how to describe it, but maybe you get the idea (and yes, I realize the problem with the fact I claim to be a writer yet I never seem to be able to explain emotions well...). Anyway, if I had a point to get back to, it would be this: I got married, and now I do not find myself in that kind of mood anymore. Therefore, I no longer write poetry--aside from the odd bit as part of other writing projects.

But, back when I did write poetry, these were two of the ones I liked best out of everything I wrote. And they nicely demonstrate two extremes of style. So, here they are:

Cloud Dance

I soar above the clouds

On wings of dream and air

I fly to touch the sky.

The earth lies far below

As I race the rising sun

I find the clouds again.

I dance among the clouds

High up in the sky

I spin and turn and dive.

The clouds follow in the dance

Weaving in my path

I pause to watch them fly.

I leave the clouds behind

When the dance is done

I turn to the earth once more.

The Bees, the Cowbells and the Hedgehogs

A poem to be recited maliciously at someone,

as if fraught with hidden, vaguely threatening

meaning.

The bees wax poetic in the morning,

The beetles in the night.

The wolves are particularly friendly

When the moon is right.

The cowbells are a-ringing

The night draws ever nigh.

The light of day is dawning

With a grateful sigh.

The times, they are a-changing,

The road goes on and on.

The hedgehogs aren’t sleeping;

They’re playing on the lawn.

The beasts in the forest

Leave much to be desired.

Those in the field are better

If you’re getting tired.