We love you son, we'll see you soon
as the bed is rolled out of the room
along with drip bags
monitors
drowsy cargo
of one of the last of my line
my son

So down the sterile halls we go
the only noise muted footfalls
echoing off the pastel walls
of worry

Transformation of Energy

I don't know much,
About the nuances of poetry
But one thing is for certain,
All energy is indestructible,
For ever it’s under transformation,
My minds eye
Opens your eyes
And
My poem transforms
Into a script,
Energy continues to transform,
Bit by bit...

bite thick this flesh
arc bright the flash
of blade

where frost steams
beneath springs
rapture
and bird dark rain
winds cascade
life for buried seed

"FLYING AWAY FROM USA"
Margaret Ann Waddicor 13th March 2011

Bland without a hand, a heart,
a head,
numbed by the sudden bereavement,
left,
bent in two
my seat belt fastened;
beneath
the inner feelings and sensations
rise,
like weed disturbed by sea's
deep tides,
once glowing blue
now grey, insipid drawn
along the bay,
where shells cast magic spells for me,
for you,
their voices joined in unison
now wail.

The twilight sky is adorned with a gaggle of drunken geese.
Their vee-formation discarded, they race in a swarm,
boisterously honking, the coming of Spring.

I imagine them having one for the road.
Flying high...
Announcing their arrival.

The crows in the naked branches of the old oak look up,
snickering in low tones of amusement.
The sparrows just shake their heads, and settle in.

Ready for the banquet, taking the best room at the lake,
and lolling on the beach.
The boys are back in town...

I’m blinded by Earths waking
Our sleeping giant
Has lain content for decades
Lately, it seems, she’s aching
The need to stretch her limbs:
Invades, persuades, cascades;
The rippling effect spreads
Like notes from an ancient hymn
We may close our eyes,
Block the site of mayhem,
Yet the sound of weeping
will still seep into our ears.

3.21.11
©Tonya Greenless

Energy, timeless, everlasting
Unending, with no beginning
Eternally in motion
In the cosmic ocean
Degenerating
Recycling
Creating,
Building
Life.

This is my first attempt at a nonet - inspired by Shirl.

ticking life away, easy…

Never really cared for time,
an old slow clock at work.
Targets, I have no mountains,
no haste to race from my stork.

Worlds a real fast busy place
wonder what I’m needed for.
Never been willing to chase,
pound sterling, or Yankee dollar.

I sit here typing on my putor,
wow: I love her made up word.
Reminds me of her sweet voice,
spelling! don’t be absurd.

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Let’s climb a mountain

A mountain thriving with laughter and daisies

And feast as a sunset drop

Let’s swim a river

A river flowing with affection and roses

And hug under a starlit sky

Let’s walk a valley

A valley covered with passion and violets

And make love by the waterfall

Let’s make memories

Memories nurtured in our hearts

Silence, you are so profound
You surround me in a void
where the only sounds I hear
are of yester years
now rising from their grave
with shrouds

I am haunted by those sounds
in the silence of my dorms
which have neither doors
nor windows

Their echoes now dance
in the cockles of my heart
till they take a bow
through my eyes..