Back Pocket Poetry

[Card]

I call these "Back Pocket Poems" because I put them in my back pocket so other people don't see them after I've written them. They're the ones I'm most embarrassed about, though more for the content than skill (or lack thereof).

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Free Verse

Yellow Flower
Yellow flower, newly blossomed
You grew into eye-glasses
You like to laugh, but hardly talk
(or so they tell me)
Are we then
peas in a pod?
One drained to white from sheltered living
The other golden-brown from dancing in the sun?
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Natural Beauty
Your voice is honey,
Your eyes big brown bears
Peeking through window slats,
Your hair falls softly down
flows like the creek,
Your skin is China silk,
(Without the worms, thank God)
Your nose a pebble
Rounded in the river of your hair


(I know, I know, I used a bunch of metaphors. I never said I wouldn't, just that I didn't like it!)
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Seeing Hope
Sometimes
I think
There is no joy
Sadness reigns
And
Hunger boasts.
But then
I see
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Not Over You
Her face a picture
Her mind a maze
Her voice is like
Sweet Summer's rain.

Try I must,
So try I do,
But still, my dear,
Not over you.
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Rhymed Poetry



The Suitors

Be still, my dear,
and bend an ear,
to hear the words I say:
"Starlight Beckons,
A sign, I'll Reckon."

--Not so fast, not so soon!
First hear the whispers of the Moon!
"Hold me closer, hold me tight!
"I, the Moon, am restless tonight!"

Perhaps they're not your cup of tea?
Listen then, my dear, to the sea:
"Swift, sweet dear, I'll rescue you!
"Jump in the waters blue!"

Now, my dear, to make your choice.
Though Ocean may have sweeter voice,
(Fine, fine, far more than mine)
His rough hands, marred by salt,
Know kindness not!

Luna, my sweet, darling she may be,
Good Girl, she's on your team!


Though friendly stars are bubbly,
You'll find none of that in you or me.

I make you laugh, you make me cry,
But I don't mind, 'round you I'm high!
(No, no, I'm not that kind of guy!
Your love, my sweet, is what gets me by!)

Now, cast your eyes in mine,
See the dark, dark Moon, Ocean's sea with Star's bright shine?
My tired eyes travel, never ceasing,
Safe haven they are seeking.
Perhaps in yours they'll find their rest?
Who cares, my girl, about a chest?
Darling, I always knew
That finding something new
Is frightening.
But love, sweet girl, is tightening.


Hold your hand?
That'd be grand!
But not, dear sweet, my dream.
That, Yellow Flower, is a scream!

Because
I
Want
To
Make
You
Smile
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Well, I hope y'all liked those. I'll probably be posting loads of these things on Sundays.

And yes, they're all about a girl. That's one of the reasons I keep them in my pocket, I don't want anyone to know I write poems about her.