Okay, I have something a little more linear and a lot less odd for you fellas today. Another from the vault!
The Doubtful Guest
The doubtful guest entered slowly
Shaking off her umbrella onto the mat
As her hostess fluttered into
An inviting kitchen of warm smells
Calling over her shoulder to sit, rest!
The hostess returned bearing mugs
Of steaming tea to comfort a weary heart.
Mrs Reed, whose hospitality a guest
Could always rely upon, prattled on;
Trivialities of suburban life, one
Consisting mostly of the idealized
Sort of domesticity found in the work
Of Normal Rockwell.
The gossip! the games! the neighbours!
The unendurable tedium of bridge
With a terrible partner on Thursday nights.
Mr Reed, his job and his car;
The children and their little friends;
Mrs Next Door’s tiny yapping dog.
Suddenly, a flash of deep thought from
The illustrious Mrs Reed:
“Oh! to speak plainly, as children do;
To proclaim feelings boldly is my wish.
The innocent see no need to hide.”
Suddenly the doubtful guest’s demeanor
Changes to a cautious acceptance.
Mrs Reed regards the young woman
As one might a saucy daughter
Or waterlogged puppy: with fondness;
While the woman, sipping her tea,
Silently reevaluates her situation
And wonders if it would be so bad
To while away this rainy afternoon.
(C) Bridget Noonan, 2010, 2012.
Afternoon in Winter
Winter: the season for hibernation,
Slowing the heartbeat and metabolism;
A time of early darkness and forgetting.
A torpid season for creatures —
Pudgy black squirrel scrabbles leadenly,
So small when projected against the grim sky.
It seems much easier to forget when
Cold death blankets what lived, and
Ice shrouds windows and walkways.
Now is the time to reflect on the weeks
And the seasons which have passed me by,
Most of which I would prefer to
© Bridget Noonan, 2009, 2012.
This was a weird poem that I had intended to be from the point of view of a tree in the winter, but I cut or changed pretty much all the parts that referenced it, so now I sound like I need a hug.
I thought I might mess around with that Fibonacci thing I did before. Since I spaced on last week‘s Three Word Wednesday, I figured, why not do both this week? Last week was erratic, luminous, and omen, and this week is alter, fond and tranquil.
Also, these might be a bit weird; I have Baba O’Riley by the Who stuck in my head, and I’m not sure if that’s related to the weird. It’s a good song, don’t get me wrong, but I’m usually more for Led Zeppelin than the Who.
Bottom of the Ocean
bait of the fearsome
anglerfish- soothing light luring
its erratic prey closer to the jaws of their doom.
it’s tough living at the bottom
of the ocean; see
© Bridget Noonan, 2o11.
Shakespeare Said It Best
Love allows no impediment to it,
Alters not with the changing winds. Instead,
It flows like rain from the heavens, collects
In our hearts, overflows in everything
We do. Love is the bright sun in the sky,
Warming the seeds of fondness in this earth.
Turbulent seas calm in the face of love,
Stifling afternoons fade to tranquil nights.
© Bridget Noonan, 2011.