Bouncing Pumpkins

Bouncing Pumpkins

Bouncing Pumpkins – digital Art by Wild Thing

No moonlight
October chill
On a dare
Two girls shiver
Just beyond the field

Farmhouse dark
Stealthy crawl
Damn dog barks
They freeze

No lights appear
Big exhale
They continue
On their mission

Hands find
What they seek
Stifled giggles
Each girl grabs two

Duck waddle now
Back to cover
In darker shadows
Of the trees
Breaking into a run

On the road
Finally, deep breaths
Made it!
Down to work

Each takes one
Raises it
Above her head
Smashes it down
It bounces!

Stunned looks
They pick them up
Do it again
They bounce

Clouds break
Moonlight shines down
Damn pumpkins …
Were green

Wild Thing ©June 19, 2017

The Legend

The Legend

The Legend – photo by Wild Thing

Peddler’s box drops
Wares spill out
With a smile
She helps him

They visit
Once done
She turns to go
He stops her

A gift he says
For her help
She declines
He insists
She accepts

On a small chain
Pure white
Beautiful … rare
Arctic fox tail

He attaches it
To her right shoulder
Stroking it
She thanks him

Upon her return
Whispers begin
What does it mean
This white tail

Her man
Lifts it
Smiles at her
Resumes his duties
She sits quietly
By his side

As the days pass
Animal tails
Appear everywhere
Squirrel
Raccoon and
Red fox

On others
Left shoulders
Some on waists
But no White
She laughed

No one asked
Why
They just did

She wondered
Should she
Shave her head
Would they

Wild Thing ©June 4, 2017

Finding My Voice

Finding My Voice

Finding My Voice – by Wild Thing

I am proud to share with you, the announcement of my first book: Finding My Voice. It’s a Collection of what I consider to be my best poems, paired with some of my photos that have been digitally altered by me.

It’s printed on white paper and the art is full color that has a slight gloss to it. It was my goal to create something unique that would be at home on your bookshelf or your coffee table.

The poetry is some works that have appeared here as well as some that is new. It is my hope that you enjoy it as much as I did putting it together for you.

Get your copy today: Finding My Voice by Wild Thing

Wild Thing

Only One . . .

Only One

My Father and I . . . Ft. Hood Tx

There is
Only one man
In my life
Who has never
Let me down

Hard … troubled
Often dark times
For him
Still his presence
A strength

When all others
Have failed me
He’s there

He gets angry
At times
Rebukes me

Praise for me
Is a smile
A short phrase
Not much more

But . . .
Shares with others
Beaming bright
With pride
He tells of me

I never hear this
It’s told me
Via grapevine

Heaven help those
Who hurt me
Through lies
Or betrayal

The God’s wrath
Mere child’s play
His Fury
And vengeance
Is swift

A love for me
So great
It shields
And protects

Only one man
Is all this . . .

He passed away
May 18, 2006
No one has ever
Filled his shoes

Wild Thing ©May10, 2017

Laurie

Bright Morning

Bright Morning – photo by Wild Thing

Shared memories
Joys . . . sorrows
Late night giggles
Life passages
First bras
Boyfriends too
Drivers licenses
High school job
Santa’s lap
Shopping for birthdays
Arguing
Forgiving
Gladys Cravitz
Three cent tip
Laughter . . . tears
Prom disaster
Marriages
Drifting apart
Finding each other
Real friend

Wild Thing ©May 3, 2017

Never-Ending Game

Memories - digital art by Wild Thing

It’s the 16th inning
We’ve stretched twice
Bears arrive late
As though it’s
Just begun

Mrs O’Leary’s Cow
Sips “tea” delicately
In her beautiful
Rose chintz china
With a goat
Named Murphy

They give
Color commentary
Their finest brogue
A bit slurred
And funny too

(Sure an’
They’re on
Their 4th “teapot”
Ye know)

Sailor Jack
His dog Bingo
Sell candied
Popcorn and peanuts
To sleepy children

Fans still cheer
As if we’re
Just starting
While #14
Yells from
Right foul pole
“Let’s play two!”

On the field
43 k’s so far
And counting
Bats and records
Starting to break

Leo “The Lip”
Argues with Joe
Behind the plate
Kicks dirt then
Storms away

Players left stranded
Like wallflowers
The Babe claps
Organ music plays us
Into the 17th inning

As Jack Brickhouse
Pours more “tea”
Into rose chintz cups

Wild Thing @May8, 2017

Swamp Witch

Swamp Witch Dwelling - photo by Wild ThingDeep in fog
Surrounded by water
A silent
Dwelling tilts
On rickety stilts

Broken steps
Lead to a missing
Front porch
While flotsam
And jetsam
Float underneath

One thinks
It is empty
Legend says not

They say
In these parts
Go when
The moon is full
You will find
The Swamp Witch

But beware
You must know
The secret signal
Else nothing
Will change

Two barn owls
Their clicks
And screeches
Warn her
And tell you
To go away

Should you
Still go forward
Without the
Magick signal
You will regret it

For then
The witch’s
Most powerful
Protector appears

Toads, crickets
All, go quiet
Owls on a branch
Air heavy
Even the moon
Seems to hide

As the dark
Becomes black
Two blazing eyes
Will freeze
Your blood

Final warning
A loud roar
Last chance
Give the signal
Or . . .

Wild Thing ©May 7, 2017

Promises*

autumn-burdocksm

Autumn Burdock – photo by Wild Thing

A promise given
Received
With joy
Gently placed
In a basket
To be savored
Until its arrival
With expectation
Hopeful days
Pass
It never comes

Another promise
Arrives
In the basket
It goes
Believing again
Only to see
It curls up
Like the other

Soon the basket
Fills with
Withered promises
It’s put away
With the pain
Of being forgotten

More promises
Arrive
Like butterflies
Beautiful
Then flutter away

Leaving behind
Wistful
Knowledge
That it will
Never happen
Which is
Better than
Expectation
Unfulfilled

Wild Thing ©February 18, 2017

*This poem was written for the Prompt 2.17 for the Writing Rebels.
It must suck to have promises made that are never kept. I mean we all know what it’s like, but to be an entire race of people? I think of Standing rock … being Black … Hispanic … all the broken promises made to them & then I am ashamed to bemoan any that have been broken to me. Anyway, I tried to capture that feeling & don’t think I came very close to it … but for what it’s worth. This was my attempt.

The Cletis Shoppe

. . . dawn in her eyes
rose on blue
CL Stump

If you like the above poem by my friend Cletis L Stump, you can now
purchase it on T-shirts, tote bags, coffee mugs etc. in his new store,
The Cletis Shoppe!

There is something for everyone here. Baseball fans, dog lovers, fitness
and health, children, funny to whimsical to name just a few! All in
various colors and sizes!

Left leaning politics? That is also here on the various products he offers.
He even does personalized work as you will see when browsing through
his shoppe.

Take some time today to stroll through his online store! Just click on the
link below now and browse to your heart’s content.

The Cletis Shoppe

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