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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