RANDOM POETRY




The Wall

Before the shiny granite wall
he stands up tall.
The soldier’s war
he fights no more.

With concentration on his face
his fingers trace
the hero’s name.
His is the same.

Reflecting sun is blinding now.
He gives a bow.
As shoulders sag
he lays a flag.




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Country Harmonies


A tractor sputters and rumbles in a distant field.
A barn door thumps amid the soft lowing
of contented cattle. Cackles from the henhouse

boast of their production.

The steady flutter of leaves in the treetops
is sprinkled with the tinkle of wind chimes
while damp sheets rustle on the clothes line.
A faded flag flaps as its rope taps

against the pole.

Bees buzz around the fragrant blossoms
of the pear tree beside the porch.
The rusty chain on the old porch swing
creaks and squeaks a slow refrain,
as the woman in the swing
snaps beans and hums "Unclouded Day."


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Faces

She frowns at her reflection in the glass.
Who is that stranger looking back at her?
Lines left behind by worry, stress, and years
of never getting all she really needs.
With powder, brush, and cream she goes to work,
to hide, conceal, erase, repair, rebuild.
A smooth new canvas starts to take its shape.
Each eye outlined, defined in bold new hues.
A swipe of pink, then bronze across the cheeks.
She pats a dab of scent behind each ear.

She gazes at the new face she has found.
Just one last touch she feels she has to add:
she lifts the gilded tube with shaking hand,
with Ruby Jezebel she paints a smile.


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