by John Loving Iii |
Categories:
absence, april, i love you,
In my mind
is a box of memories
I open the box
and you appear
I allow myself
to make deliveries
of when you were
alive and near
and sometimes I make
discoveries
that back then
wern't so clear
My memory is
the only wittness
for a love so dear
Your words were
few and simple
And eye's they
never lied
The moments
we had together
were the best
in my life
to be loved
as I love
To that nothing
can compare
In my box of
memories
this will always
be there
Tears and laughter
are some of the things
I wish that I could share
with you
Joy and pain
are still emotions
being gone
you still do
In my box of memories
that I have filled
with you
I close and lock
my love
And seal it with
I do
by Alex J Stokas |
Categories:
boat, fantasy, love,
Parisian nights magical made for hand in hand walking
Along the light sparkling Seine,
Across bridges running to old left bank enclaves
Magic nights soft city lights
Footsteps echo into alleys
Taxis purr catlike in misty morning dew
Who walks in these early hours just before dawn?
Bakers rolling croissants, freshly baking
Deliveries of flowers, papers, breads
All in sleepy just light …
You and I, hand in hand, find our way home
Under flowering purple trees
by Randy Johnson |
Categories:
funny, holiday, on writing and words, me,
When Santa Claus came down my chimney, I thought he was a robber.
I grabbed my baseball bat and old Saint Nick got clobbered.
Santa had some compound fractures and he kept saying ouch.
I made his deliveries while he laid on my couch.
I climbed on my roof and got in his sled.
When I told the reindeers to fly, Prancer kicked me in the head.
I delivered the presents all around the world.
Because of me, there were a lot of happy boys and girls.
The next year I asked Santa for a new bowling ball because I love to bowl.
But when I checked my stocking, I saw that the fatso gave me a block of coal.
by Chuck Novotny |
Categories:
love,
On the days you're not here
They serve doughnuts,
Laughter punctuates conversations,
People stock and empty shelves,
And fish are caught.
Friends greet and lovers kiss,
Homes are built, tables are bussed,
Children learn geography
And deliveries are made
On the days you're not here.
On the days you're not here
Lawns get mowed,
Cancers will be treated,
Cars are repaired, jets fly
And prayers are said.
Tears stain cheeks and hopes are born,
Dogs will bark, tennis is played,
Mothers hold infants,
And poetry is written, and read
On the days you're not here.
by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories:
life,
We get approximately three boxes a day in deliveries
My husband is the ultimate order-machine
He takes more stuff back than most people order
I am sure UPS knows his name now
These boxes stack up on couches, the back of a bookshelf,
Beds, chairs, tables, and other not-for-boxes-places
When I get tired of them, I burn them in a huge bonfire
I love this part of the boxes the best, thus I encourage these orders.