My Poems

That Ain’t Right It’s Just So Wrong

It's not good  for  a person to live so long                                                                                   Everyday I sing this sorrowful song                                                                                                    From late at night to the early dawn                                                                                                       My brother and sister have long been gone                                                                                That ain't right,  it's just so wrong

They were both much younger then me Can someone put me out of my misery Life is too short, that's what people say Not mine, looks like I'm here to stay That ain't right, it's just so wrong

The other day I heard a motorcycle go by The sound of that engine made me cry I rode a Harley Davidson, candy apple red Ma yelling, get off that thing or you'll end up dead She was wrong,  she was just so wrong

In this wheelchair I sit still hanging on Even though I'm old I feel very strong What a crying shame what a pitiful pity Nothing but wrinkled skin that sure ain't pretty That ain't right, it's just so wrong

Guess by now your tired of listening to me Well out of this body I too would like to be free A paradise is at the end just waiting for me I know for a fact because I've been given the key That is right, it's just so right Author Eileen Clark 2023


My Poems

Last Wishes

I am happy to inform all my followers on WordPress  that my poem  “Last Wishes” has been published  on  Spillwords Press. I would like to thank Dagmara K., and the  Spillwords  Press team for publishing this and other poems I have written, Most sincerely, Eileen Clark

Click on Link Below:

I want to walk down a gravel road
Hear stones crunching under my feet
On one side Daisies and Black Eyed Susan's
On the other a field of swaying wheatI want to sit at an old picnic table
Near a lake, in the woods, under trees
That shouldn't be asking for too much
There was a time when I did all of theseI want to ride my bike, take a hike
Dig my toes down in hot ocean sand
Smell of nature in all the pasture land
I want to rake up red and yellow leavesAlas, a finial plea amongst all of these
Is to thank Jehovah one more time on bended knees
Stead in a wheelchair I sit, on my porch, in the breeze

Author Eileen Clark I am happy to inform all my followers on WordPress that my poem "Last Wishes" has been published on…

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My Poems

That Glorious Sound

Every kid loves to hear that glorious sound                                                                                 The crack that echoes around the playground                                                                                             A young boy just swung his tightly gripped bat                                                                             Like lightning he runs leaving behind his blue hat

Right off  it's a home run for this newly formed team                                                       Friends shouting, hardly believing what they've just seen                                               Running past each base we can hear this young lads dreams                                                        Hey dad, someday I'm going to be on the big league teams

Author Eileen Clark 2023

Image ~
Also ~

The Cloud

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers                                                                                                                                                           I bear light shade for the leaves when laid                                                                                                                                                                      In their noonday dreams                                                                                                                                                                                                         From my wings are shaken the dews that waken                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 The sweet buds every one                                                                                                                                                                                                                  When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast                                                                                                                                                                                  As she dances about the sun                                                                                                                                                                                                                             I wield the flail of the lashing hail                                                                                                                                                                                                            And whiten the green plains under                                                                                                                                                                                               And then again I dissolve it in rain                                                                                                                                                  And laugh as I pass in thunder                                                                                                                                                         
Percy Bysshe Shelley  1792–1822 

More :

My Paintings · My Poems

Howling Winter Wolves

The day is a gray one and bitter cold                                                                                           Wind slapping my face piercingly bold                                                                                             The snow is icy white, the top layer is hard                                                                                            My forced footsteps leave the service scarred

Not a sound is heard, noises freeze in mid air                                                                              Later the moon exposes that activity was their                                                                          Some rabbits, deer and even some wolf tracks                                                                     Leaving me to wonder, are they running in packs

Tired and hungry, I head back to my lodge Safe, yet feeling there is something I just dodged looking out my window I see shadows prowling There they are on the hill, I hear the wolves howling

Author Eileen Clark 2023

Painting by Eileen Clark



The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.
Robert Frost

Flowers in a Snowy Field, Wall Art, Digital Download, AI Art, Artificial Intelligence, Generated Art

My Poems

I Weight To Be Thin

Thin child you are
always sad
long walks alone
Mothers weighty
Eats nothing but salads
Don’t sit at table
Too jealous of child
It gets colder with age
Skinny since birth
long walks away from home
Time changes nothing
Gets bigger each year
still trying to lose weight
Eat salad, stay home, don’t run
No new dresses

Author Eileen Clark

This is NOT about me, just trying my hand at Fusion poetry, not sure I like it.


My Poems

I Didn’t See That Coming

Shell I tell you what I suddenly see                                                                                   A little girl grew up in front of me                                                                                          It's like I barely even turned around                                                                              There you stood in this beautiful gown

Yesterday you had just turned six                                                                           Wrestling boys and throwing sticks                                                                                This has really happened, can you see                                                                    You've grown up quickly and quite pretty

I didn't take enough pictures or keep a baby book  Now I see you and my feelings have been shook  Look at yourself and forgive me while I have a cry  I didn't even get to say to that little girl goodbye

Author Eileen Clark 2023

Image ~ My Granddaughter Taylor

My Paintings

He’s Got My Back

I have a little partner that always hangs around                                                                                                      He helps me keep my two feet solid on the ground                                                                                                   His eyes are wide open, he watches here and there                                                                                              People that approach me, please do so with care

His secret is well hidden in his soft little paws                                                                                                                   If you mess with me, out will come his claws                                                                                                                  I'm not trying to scare you but here's the deal                                                                                                                Just giving you some caution, to you I do appeal                                                                                                                               

Some person took a swing at me, being angry and mean                                                                                                    Kitty gave him a swipe back, leaving a bloody stream                                                                                                               It's better you all know this from the very start                                                                                                                         This little guy has secured me in his smart little heart

Author  Eileen Clark

Artist Self portrait done by Caleb Atha

My Poems

My Ink Is Drying Up

My ink is drying up and my pen no longer writes smooth                                                This just can't happen now, to many thoughts I will loose                                      Fading away this old body, still more to write, to be heard                                         My memories and precious images are becoming a bit blurred

My hand shakes, the paper gets wrinkled as I write so fast                                                But I must write quickly while the thoughts in there still last                                       Some verses, as I write I laugh, often things were very funny                                        Then the sad things, my tears make the ink blurred and runny

So pass my writings down to every family child that arrives           Never just store them away in some back room archives                                            May the pages look well read, the corners torn and tattered                                                It will be a way of telling me, to you my poems mattered

Author Eileen Clark

Image ~ tattered pages on a old book of poems – Google Search

My Poems

My Calico Cat

I Have a calico cat very quiet and shy                                                                                He disappears when my friends stop by
They tease and ask, does he meow or cry
Are we ever going to see this little guy

His toys are scattered around on the floor
I have padding on every corner and door                                                                When you are here in his invisible presence                                                               Things to know to make your visit pleasant

Sit still and be calm so he can get to know
His instincts will tell if you're friend or foe
He'll grab at your foot from under the couch
Then grab the other before you can say ouch

Time has passed and my cat’s doing well
He now wears a collar with a little bell
So when he hides he’s not so hard to find
Such a blessing cause he hides all the time

I don't let him out to play in the warm sun
It’s hard for I know he would have such fun
He bumps into chairs and walks into the wall
He doesn't know which way to go when I call

I've had my cat now for quite a few years                                                                            When he leaves I will shed many tears                                                                            He has been a handful but I don't mind
My precious little calico cat is totally blind.

Author Eileen Clark

Image: Pinterest

My Poems

White Linen

Linen, the smell of fresh crisp clean white linen,                                   You can't capture the smell of linen in a bottle though they try.                                                                                                         When I think of linen, it's with a bitter sweet sigh,                                           I think of my childhood memories of good times gone by.

Napkins,  candles and table cloths, white with white design,                                                                                                  Ready for Sunday dinner with aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents so fine,                                                                                   Pot roast, chicken, mashed potatoes and strawberry rhubarb pie.                                                                                            Linen,  fresh clean memories, happy times gone by.

Life was livable and children were sweet and quiet and shy,             Streets filled with bicycles and roller skates, marbles and  jacks and kites in the sky.                                                                                                Air filled with sounds of horns and whistles, a baseball cracking off the tip of a bat,                                                                                               The shouts of children with laughter and glee, wonderment of all that.

Running after the ice cream truck with a ringing bell,                          Cones and Eskimo pies, and Popsicles as well.                                       Little girls secrets from boys they'll never tell,                                                                       Linen, crisp linen, good memories, and oh such a fresh smell.

The front yards had white picket fences and trellises with climbing Tea Roses,                                                                                              Bachelor Buttons, Daisies and Hollyhocks, sweet aromas filled our noses.                                                                                                                  Pansies and Tulips, hear the soft sounds of humming bees.                The back yards had bird houses posted to Willow, Oak, and Maple trees.

Robins and Bluebirds on branches hidden amongst the leaves,                                                                                                                                 And always clothes lines and clothes pins gripping white linen sheets waving in the breeze.                                                                                  Crisp white clean linens spreading out against the blue sky,                                          So many memories of wonderful times in my life gone by.

Author  Eileen Clark

My Poems

Fear In The Moonlight

The night is very dark with a slight summer breeze,
A shimmer of moon peeking through the branches of trees.

I hear another’s footsteps in the distance from behind,
Hopefully the owner is a person that’s very kind.

As I continue to walk further, a pounding in my heart,
The moon gets brighter as the clouds start to part.

I turn around as I hear the sound at a faster pace,
Gleefully I shout as the moon lights up my brothers face.

Author Eileen Clark 2015


My Paintings · My Poems

ARTHRITIS { Self Portrait } 

She stands very tall, very strong,
Her feet planted firmly in the ground.
She could weather any storm,
She did not waver in the strongest wind

Her beauty was subtle, ever changing,
Like the seasons, with the seasons.
Her arms stretched out to hold up one’s in need,
Her branches leafed out to shade other

Now she’s old, wrinkled, knotted,
Her limbs are twisted with pain.
Oh Jehovah look, in your eyes she’s still standing,
Hopefully forever to remain

Author Eileen Clark

Painting Eileen Clark

My Poems

I Lost My Toupee In The Park Today!

Let's go for a walk in the park, I insist,                                                             The weather is fine, it may be a bit brisk.                                    Stuck my head out the door just to be sure,                                           A bit of a breeze, nothing I can't endure. 

Off we go, taking the dog and leaving the cat,                                      I decide it would be fine not to wear my hat.                            This turned out to be a most memorable day,                                 The so called slight breeze blew off my toupee!

Author Eileen Clark 2023
My Poems

Staying On The Train

I can't believe what I'm hearing though no doubt it's true                                             When I should expect the next train to be coming through                                                 Putting trust in the letters you wrote to me this past year                                             I traveled hundreds of miles with not an ounce of fear

Trying not to panic even though I don't see you waiting for me                 Dare I get off this train or stay on so I can return home safely             Perhaps you were just a little late getting out your front door                Giving it extra thought, we should have corresponded more

I think I let this go a bit to far, I must be insane                                               Going back to reality and stay put on this train                                                             Having no friends or family living in this little town                                                 The chance after seeing me, you might turn me down

Just when I've decided to stay on the train I hear someone shout    
Hey pretty lady I'm happy you came, seeing you gives me no doubt 
A love can grow strong and lasting if only at first through the mail 
At last your here, brought to me by train over many miles of rails

Author Eileen Clark 2023

My Poems

Just One Letter

Just one letter from you that's all I ask  
I know our romance was way in the past
Strong promises you made before you left
A letter each week, you'd give me your best

They said you were among all the missing  
I was told no more, it was a secret mission  
If we had married like you wanted us too  
A family I'd have, but just loneliness I brew

Everyone thinks I'm a foolish old lady 
Possibly even a little bit kinda crazy    
Truth be told life is stranger than fiction
I'm sticking with my one true conviction

Somewhere out there you might still be alive    
With this thought every day is how I thrive                                      From this little piece of land I'll never move     
No better way my eternal love for you I prove

Author Eileen Clark 2023

Image:Dd_141Dianne Dengel by Dianne Dengel


My Poems

Your Golden Years

Do you feel like this now that your old?                                                                                                                               Your fingers from arthritis do not unfold                                                                                                                  Your body temperature is always very cold                                                                                                                The clothes in your closet not hung but rolled                                                                                                         Food in your refrigerator is covered with mold                                                                                          You’ve been through hard times so anything of value you’ve sold                                                                        Loss of hearing, the same things several times over your told                                                                                  Still when you talk, your way to loud, you spit and your bold                                                                                  The purses you carry, a foot locker they could easily hold                                                                                        You keep your money in the mattress instead of a billfold                                                                                          So how can it be said that these last years of yours are made of gold?
Are these your Golden Years?
Author Eileen Clark  2023


My Poems

Fat Rabbits In My Fields

I saw two fat rabbits running fast on the other side of my fence 
Because of the large size that they were, it didn't make any sense
We're in the middle of December so what is it that they eat                                                            I feed the birds and squirrels and know nothing of rabbits treats

I see many rabbits eating grass around my house in the summer        Finding something to eat throughout the winter must be a bummer     
So I did some reading and also lots of researching on the internet 
Not having food in the winter for wild rabbits is not a real threat

My home is surrounded by woods and very large fields                  
Much to my surprise what rabbits eat my land yields                 
There are plenty of bushes with buds twigs and tree bark        
So I'm pleased to be calling it, The Clark Rabbit Park 

Author Eileen Clark 2023

Photo by Eileen Clark

Bunny image found on Pinterest

My Poems

Enchanting Winter Symphonies

The words to describe this long trying dreary day                                                          Could be cloudy gloomy dismal and very very gray                                                           It's damp here in the house, cold and raining out
A day one could stay in bed, of this I have no doubt

Slipping under my covers hoping it will be better in the morning                                        I knew the rain had turned to sleet hitting hard was enough warning                                     
Weather like this I've seen before, I'm sure I'll wake up to a freeze
The barometer on my porch shows it's dropping below zero degrees

In the morning my room was bright even through closed drapes A dazzling scene of iced bushes and trees in shimmering shapes Branches were bending and crackling in a slight brisk breeze Icicle chimes were playing some enchanting winter symphonies

Author Eileen Clark



Jack Frost

Jack Frost is never heard or seen,                                                      But you can tell just where he's been                                                      For while your fast asleep at night          
He paints the world a sparkling white      

His freezing fingers in a trice                                                                Turn every puddle into ice                                                                           Window panes those fingers trace         
Fine twinkling patterns just like lace  

On silken webs some spiders spun                                                            Jack Frost hangs crystals just for fun                                                    You can't see jack Frost this  is true                                                           But he can still reach out to you

So wrap up warm, please take my tip                                                                   Or you'll feel Jack Frost's icy grip

Author Jillian Harker

My Poems

My Snow Loving Cat

Can't you see the big snow flakes coming down                                                 The wind is blowing the snow on frozen ground                                                   Sitting at the door are you wanting to go out                                                             How loud the word no do you want me to shout 

It's piling up real fast making big snow banks                                                     Staying in this warm house you should give thanks                                                One paw out that door and you would quickly disappear                                                      Wait until the Mr. plows a path to make the way clear  

Please stop fussing while I wrap you in this warm sweater                                   And you may not like it but this hat makes it even better                                Your the one snow cat that wants to go out in this blizzard                                   It sure would make me happy if you would just reconsider 

Author Eileen Clark 2022

My Poems

Your Neighbor The Squirrel

The squirrel will dig a hole deep into the ground                                                               Making sure no onlooking predators are around                                                         They will dig very deep to hide their nuts and berries                                                          Then zig zagging up a tree fast as their legs can carry

The constant moving of their bushy tails often attracts                                                                     So that running pattern confuses all the dogs and cats                                                  Keep those feeders filled when the temperature gets low                                     Squirrels won't have to dig for their stash in the snow

A great deal of time is spent digging, chasing and eating                                                    Fall is busy preparing for winter they'll soon be greeting                                                         Take some time to notice the antics of the silly squirrel                                                                A whole new interesting activity in your life will unfurl

Author Eileen Clark 2022

Just Nice


There is a two-letter word that perhaps has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that is “UP”

It’s easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP?

At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP and why are the officers UP for election? Why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report? We call UP our friends.

We use it to brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver. We warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and some guys fix UP the old car. At other times the little word has real special meaning.

People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing, but to be dressed UP is special. A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night.

National Look Up at the Sky Day is on April 14


My Poems

My Cats By The Hearth

It's cold outside, the wind is blowing                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Freeze in the air, soon it will be snowing                                                                                                              Nothing can be better on this whole earth                                                                                                                    Just watching my cats sleeping by the hearth

Many a cat would be filled with delight                                                                                                                                         To be in a warm cozy home for the night                                                                                                                                 But for them it's just a dream far out of sight                                                                                                                              Only abandonment is to be their plight

All I can offer is this plea to all of you                                                                                                                                                               Can you adopt a cat, or maybe even two                                                                                                                                                          If you have a cat, can you neuter or spayed                                                                                                  By doing this less cats have to be saved

I feel a shiver as I hear the wind howl                                                                                                                                                                                   Oh so many cats tonight out on the prowl                                                                                                                                              I am filled with thankfulness gaiety and mirth                                                                                                                                      As I gaze at my at my sleeping cats by the hearth

Author Eileen Clark 2013

Care for cats in cold weather.

Keeping Feral Cats Warm in the Winter


My Poems

Mee Cat

Mee do everything that my missy do                                                                             Mee pester her from morning till night                                                                    Mee work hard at it too                                                                                                                    In Mee missy she still finds delight

Mee knock over her plants on the inside Mee eat all her plants on the outside When it's time to go to bed Mee go hide When she get upset, Mee feel kitty  pride

Author Eileen Clark




Picture Books in Winter

Summer fading, winter comes--
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,
Window robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.

Water now is turned to stone
Nurse and I can walk upon;
Still we find the flowing brooks
In the picture story-books.

All the pretty things put by,
Wait upon the children's eye,
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
In the picture story-books.

We may see how all things are
Seas and cities, near and far,
And the flying fairies' looks,
In the picture story-books.

How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,
Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books?

Robert Louis Stevenson

My Poems

My Little Ol’ Cat

Things look bad around this ol' world                                                                            Nothin like when I was a little girl                                                                                 Had no problems, was Just a little brat                                                                                              Playing around with my little ol’ cat

I got in trouble for jumping in a puddle Fun  improper words I'd sometimes muddle I got a few spankings so on a cushion I sat It didn't matter long as I had my little ol' cat

Author Eileen Clark

My Poems


There's no greater place that I would want to be                                                                                                                  Then the beautiful bluegrass state of  Kentucky                                                                                                        Miles and miles of painted white rolling fences                                                                                                                       Early morning mist hovering over the green hills                                                                                                                        Well groomed horses ready to run for the thrills 

Fancy carriages pulled by beauties strutting their stuff                                                                                                           One ride, two rides, three rides, it’s never quite enough                                                                                                      Fifteen distillery’s in the big city’s or in small urban                                                                                                                     Some rum some gin but the bragger is the bourbon

Maker’s Mark, Heaven Hill, Four Roses and Jim Beam                                                                                                              Besides the horses and hats, this is every jockey’s dream                                                                                                     Every season to me at least seems just about right                                                                                                                          Summer and spring  has it’s warmth in which I delight

Winter is cold and  crisp with a little bit of snow                                                                                                                                    Quickly it's gone making room for the bluegrass to grow                                                                                                                               Fall is the best and my favorite leaving no room for debates                                                                                                              It last longer and is more colorful than any of the other states

One last thing least I forget, do this so you'll have no regrets                                                                                                You bought the hats, drank the booze, possibly ran up some debts                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              Now that you've had fun and made all the rounds                                                                                                                    Please buy that winning ticket at Churchill Downs!

Author Eileen Clark


Outside Libraries Everywhere

“This is not a new idea, but it’s a great idea so we are ‘paying it forward,’” said TADL Director Metta Lansdale Jr.  “The message behind the Little Free Library is simple and dovetails with TADL’s mission; it’s about building literacy as well as a sense of community.”

Learn More about the synchronicity of small community libraries and the Little Free Library Movement.

You will really enjoy traveling around the world visiting beautiful and in some places very strange outside libraries. Share with us if you have had the privilege of seeing any outside libraries in your travels. ~*~

My Poems

Love Is Blind 

When I hugged my grandma's old wrinkled neck                                                                                                  I didn't see her wrinkles, not even a little speck                                                                                                               And when I kissed her weathered wrinkled face                                                                                                       I love her so much, it's dear grandma I embrace

When my kitty licks my face, I think how gross It gets even worse cause then he licks my nose It must be true when they say love is really blind Cause changing my baby's diapers, I don't ever mind

Author Eileen Clark 2022


My Poems

The Black Iron Gate

In this quite garden alone I do sit                                                                           Hoping friends will drop by for a visit                                                                               Warmth from the sun, softness of breeze                                                                          The squeak of my gate would surely please

Seedlings floating by brushing my cheek                                                                           A near perfect day but for one thing I seek                                                                       Wanting to hear a squeak from my iron gate                                                                      Hearing someone say, I'm so sorry we're late

I try very hard to keep a smile on my face                                                                            In my minds eye I can go almost any place                                                                     Climbing mountains, wading through brooks                                                                           My adventures come from reading many books

Day nearing it's end, nothing more I can say                                                                            The black iron gate didn't squeak open today                                                                            Tomorrow the sun is definitely going to shine                                                                       Going out when it's nice folks are more inclined

Author Eileen Clark 2011

From the author, this poem is not about me.


My Poems

The House With Blue Shutters

I stayed in the bedroom, one at the top of the stairs
It was my uncles when he was young and had few cares
He's in the army now serving far away from his home
His mom and dad, my grandparents, live here alone
I'm now in his bedroom spending time by myself
Either looking at the big ticking clock on the shelf
Or staring out my window at the house across the way
The one with blue shutters and no children there to play
Grandma and grandpa don't have any yard swings
They don't have any pets, don't even have toys
I brought my doll, my jacks and a few other things
On this street live old folks, no little girls and boys
Is it my imagination because of something I want there to be
Because it looks like a young person is looking back at me
Then I see her smile, she moves and her eyelashes flutter
At last I have a playmate in the house with the blue shutters

 Author Eileen Clark  

This poem comes from my childhood and I did stay often at my grandparents house while my brothers were in school. Unlike today where grandparents have a bedroom set aside for their grandchildren filled with toys, video games, TV’s and computers. My grandparents saved the Sunday funny papers for us. My grandpa had a couple of puzzles up on the closet shelf that he brought down when I came for a weekend and he always bought me Neapolitan ice cream. I brought my doll, jump rope, and a coloring book with my box of crayons. There was a white house next to my grandparents house and it did have blue shutters. I did sit on the edge of my uncles bed looking out the bedroom window and wishing there were kids living in that house. The part I made up was that their actually was a child in that house, there wasn’t but how I so wished there was.  My grandparents did live in a neighborhood with very fine houses and older well established people residing in them, there were no children living on that block or any streets near by.

About the artist ~*~ Suzie

My Poems

The Elephant Family

In elephant families the females are the boss                                                                              Choosing a matriarch they are not at a loss                                                                                   The older and experienced one leads the herd                                                                          Walking in a straight line no one gets deterred

The journey is a constant search for food and water                                                           Amazingly that task is left for moms and daughters                                                                                 Young ones hold on to the tails of mothers for protection                                                                         All the adults for there young have such great affection

When family or friends meet, they have such joyful greetings                                              Spinning around, flapping ears, touching trunks, then repeating                                       Surprisingly they love to swim, role around in the water at play                                                       To quench there thirst they will drink up to fifty gallons a day

All the elephants will circle around one that is hurt or weak                                                  Even though they are very large, their disposition is meek                                                  No other animal shares this kind of caring family interaction                                                        That is why we find the elephant such a wondrous attraction

Author Eileen Clark 2022

My Poems ~ Others poems

Loyalty & Bought A Dog


You can't buy loyalty, they say,                                                                                       I bought it though, the other day;                                                                                   You can't buy friendship, tried and true,                                                                Well just the same, I bought that too.

I made my bid, and on the spot                                                                                Bought love and faith and a whole job lot                                                                     Of happiness, so all in all                                                                                                 The purchase price was pretty small.         

I bought a single trusting heart,                                                                                  That gave devotion from the start                                                                                          If you think these things are not for sale,                                                                  Buy a brown-eyed puppy with a stump of a tail.

Author Unknown

Very interesting, I can’t find the author of this poem but it is strangely similar to the verses in my poem.  

My Poem
Bought A Dog

Bought a dog a year ago,                                                                                              Thought id' be some company ya know.                                                                    Needed some noise and scuttle in the home,                                                          Wife's been gone and I'm so alone.

Thinking bout the trouble I'm in for,                                                                               Cleaning up the messes on the floor.                                                                           Feeding n' grooming, worming n' shots                                                                      Costing me more then I even gots.

It's been a year now and trouble he be,                                                                                But I got more then that, I got loyalty.                                                                                I got a friend now tried and true,                                                                                                                  Got all that when I bought Billy Blu.

Author Eileen Clark  
My Poem Was written in 1994


My Poems

The Ads

I'm sorry about all these ads at the end of my post
If they were cute and pretty they'd be easy to host
But as you can readily see some are totally gross
Every ad is like fish oil giving us an unwanted dose

I realize that I really have no reason to complain
To solve this problem doesn't take much of a brain
To keep ad free blogs for your followers and friends
Pay some money each month and all the ads will end

Author Eileen Clark 2022



Forgetter Be Forgotten?

My forgetter’s getting better
But my rememberer is broke
To you that may seem funny
But, to me, that is no joke.

For when I’m ‘here’ I’m wondering
If I really should be ‘there’
And, when I try to think it through,
I haven’t got a prayer!

Often times I walk into a room,
Say “what am I here for?”
I wrack my brain, but all in vain
A zero, is my score.

At times I put something away
Where it is safe, but, Gee!
The person it is safest from
Is, generally, me!

When shopping I may see someone,
Say “Hi” and have a chat,
Then, when the person walks away
I ask myself, “who was that?”

Yes, my forgetter’s getting better
While my remember is broke,
And it’s driving me plumb crazy
And that isn’t any joke.

James Casey author and poet



Daddy Fell Into The Pond

Everyone grumbled. The sky was grey.
We had nothing to do and nothing to say.
We were nearing the end of a dismal day,
And then there seemed to be nothing beyond,
Then Daddy fell into the pond!

And everyone’s face grew merry and bright,
And Timothy danced for sheer delight.
“Give me the camera, quick, oh quick!
He’s crawling out of the duckweed!” Click!

Then the gardener suddenly slapped his knee,
And doubled up, shaking silently,
And the ducks all quacked as if they were daft,
And it sounded as if the old drake laughed.
Oh, there wasn’t a thing that didn’t respond
When Daddy Fell into the pond!

by Alfred Noyes 1880 ~ 1958

My Poems

My Little Girl

My Little Girl has an infection in one of her eyes. It’s red all around the eye and watery and she struggles to keep it open which tells me it might be quite sore, my heart hurts to see her suffering. She has been to the vet, got a shot and is given eye drops twice a day. Two days have passed and the eye looks much better. I wrote her a poem about the actual events.

My Little Girl is a very old and sweet cat                                                                                                                           Unlike her sister Dixie who is a total brat                                                                                                                                When LG walks by, Dixie gives her a swipe                                                                                                                             It happens daily yet LG never does gripe

Dixie walks around with a strut in her step                                                                                                                        Little Girl waddles and has lost all her pep                                                                                                                                  This morning she woke up with a red eye                                                                                                                                       It looked so awfully bad that I begin to cry

It's under control now with meds from our vet Dixie's bad behavior she hopes we might forget She walked up to Little Girl and sniffed her face Then lowering her head closer as if to embrace

Author Eileen Clark 2022


My Poems

My Cat Sitting At The Door

I am so sorry I have to say to my sweet cat                                                                             Once again I really didn't mean to do that                                                                                         Left her sitting at the door for how long                                                                                    Her cries and meows just aren't very strong

When I see her sitting there it breaks my heart                                                                                        I must come up with a plan, I need to be smart                                                                                        I'll think like a cat, to me what would she tell                                                                                Said my cat, that's simple, just lower the door bell

Author Eileen Clark 2022


My Poems

Fall Is Here Once Again

Fall is here once again                                                                                                                                                          Only I can remember when                                                                                                                                                                  You and I walked many hours                                                                                                                                                 Through leaves feeling loves powers

Far beyond this quiet man                                                                                                                                                      The colder feelings now began                                                                                                                                                     Not just leaves turning red and gold                                                                                                                                                  His love is turning crisp and cold

Fall is here once again                                                                                                                                                                Was my favorite season but then                                                                                                                                             Quickly it passes now into frost                                                                                                                                                 I never see it, my love is lost

Far beyond this quiet man                                                                                                                                                    I was expecting a ring on my hand                                                                                                                                                   The leaves fall, no sound, no delight                                                                                                                                                      Gone forever into the cold winter night

Author Eileen Clark  2014

I posted this poem in 2014 and it got little notice so I dug it up, polished it a bit and added a new image.
Thank you everyone, I see that it did much better the second time around.

Beautiful Fall Image:

My Poems

The Sounds of Autumn

Hear the sounds of fall
Geese giving out a call
Swishing of colored leaves
Falling off seasoned trees

Leaves crushing under feet
Snapping branches in burning heat
Scented smoke clouding eyes
Bubbles popping on simmering  pies

Juicy crunching of an apple
Hay rides on  roads of gravel
Gurgling of pouring out apple cider
Crackling of dry wood in the fire

Snoring from grandpa who is sleeping                                                                  Hissing radiator warm we are keeping​   
Deep in the night hear the owl  call
Listen up dear critters it is now fall

Author Eileen Clark 2019

Image: Original Nature Painting by Bianca Cudalbu 
Owl flying in the forest

My Poems

The Love Of October

I get excited this time of year                                                                                                   A bit of October chill in the air                                                                                                         Colored leaves bounce with a flare                                                                                            Tents going up for the county fair

Crisp leaves crunching under my feet                                                                          Huge bales of hay resting in the fields                                                                                                                                                                Corn stalks gathered round and tied neat                                                                                Bushel baskets of corn they do yield

Pumpkins and apples at roadside stands                                                                                   Jars of blackberry and strawberry jams                                                                                   Buckets of blueberries picked for pies                                                                                   Leaving shrubs and bushes barren and dry

Jugs of apple cider brewed ever so sweet                                                                                 Time for hot cocoa and marshmallow treat                                                                               Bring out the wool hats and wool sweaters                                                                   All gifts from God, life couldn’t be better

Author Eileen Clark
Image: Beautiful Fall Painting

My Poems

Grandma’s Quilt With A Hidden Treasure

I got a letter from a very old friend                                                                          She said my grandma's life has come to an end                                                          My grandma lived so many miles and states away                                                             I tried to get her to move, she said it's here I'll stay

There was a time the farm was pretty nice                                                                     In my younger years I stayed there once or twice                                                           My friend said there's no point in you traveling out here                                                   The place is so run down you couldn't trade it for a case of beer

So I went there anyway because I figured what have I got to loose                                                               The farm is a shack on a dirt road and all I got is dirt in my shoes                                                                   As the dust settled down something was becoming clear for me to see                                                                      Hanging on the railing was a quilt and nearby her dog covered with fleas

Looking all around this barren land thinking well isn't this just my luck                 
Finding the right folks and do some fancy talking I might make a few bucks             
As I was doing my planning I spotted a tattered note pinned to the quilt                  
It said, pull a few threads, in the lining there's enough for a mansion to be built

Author Eileen Clark 2022

Beautiful Painting by Bob Timberlake ~

My Poems

Winter Is On It’s Way

All the trees are almost barren,
Now I can see farther across the hills.
Heavy knit sweaters folks are wearing,
Frost each morning sits on my windowsills.
Gathering wood for my old iron stove, 
Hanging bird feeders in a nearby grove.
Filling my cup with hot spiced tea,
I’ll call on an old friend to share it with me.

Author: Eileen Clark ~ November 2018

Painting ~ Sycamores on Clear Creek, Oil on Canvas

John Elwood Bundy 1853 ~ 1913,


My Poems


November’s the month that you get a chance,                                                             To spend time outside a little while longer.                                                                  Warm sunny days may show up now and then,                                                                   But the wind is cooler and a little bit stronger.

Leaf’s dangling on branches here and there,                                                                  Plenty of warning before they are totally bare.                                                                                               Darkness comes early, light no longer yours,                                                                                       Better get busy, finish up those outdoor chores.

Repair all the cracks in the window panes,                                                                       Clean out the twigs and leaves in your drains.                                                                                  Stack up plenty of logs in a nearby covered space                                                                             You’ll have nightly warmth coming from your fireplace.

November gives you the time to put your mind at ease,                                                                      The Almanac gives warning, this winter a deep freeze.                                                                         Sitting by the fire with your coffee, you have not a care,                                                                        You were the smart one, you knew how well to prepare.

Author Eileen Clark 2014

Quoted by Sarah Blank Studios
paintings, ramblings
"The New England style farmhouse above is from 1750. Despite the clear skies and November sunbeams, the inside of the homestead was so dark and smelled of creosote from ages past. A little fire burned in the kitchen and herbs hung from the ceiling. The surrounding fields were the home to 13,000 soldiers during the Revolutionary War."


My Paintings

The Elegance of Cats

Whether you love cats or hate them there is no denying                     Watching a cat or kittens behavior is so very gratifying                   Graceful and stylish in appearance and in there every manner                        With there sharp eyes asking, could you find anything grander 
Even when cats get old they can still have that haughty composure                                                             And the stray that has no shelter and lives a life of exposure
Can carry it off having you think there is nothing quite so divine
Will we ever learn that all cats know how to let their light shine  

Author Eileen Clark 2022

Cooked Goose

You know the old saying your goose is cooked
Whenever I hear that I really get shooked
I hear there's some truth to that nasty old saying
I'm valuable because of the many eggs I keep laying

You have to learn how to run really fast
If you don't, how long will your life last
I've learned to do more then just waddle
You'd be smart to use me as a role model

Don't get caught walking around here alone
The inside of a kettle will be your next home
Keep your bill shut, don't utter a honk or quack
If you get noticed it may be your last act

Author Eileen Clark

Image: Found on Pinterest

My Poems

My Lobster Claws

My hands are like lobster claws                                                                                         Just one of my latest flaws                                                                                              I can't pick up, hold onto, or grab                                                                                  That's why I've become such a crab

Because of the things I use to do                                                                                          I tell my oldest daughter                                                                                                         Like the ocean color I'm feeling blue                                                                                I now am a fish out of water

Still I have so many blessings like the white sands near the sea Someday, I'm gonna be back To the young person I use to be

Author Eileen Clark

This was one of the first poems I wrote, I have rheumatoid arthritis.


My Poems

I’m Waiting For Spring

I’m waiting for Spring and other nice things,
Aren’t you?
I’m waiting for warmer weather,

I’m waiting for little things with feathers.
Aren’t you?
I’m waiting for those pretty little spotted eggs,
For those little creatures with tiny stick legs,

Aren’t you?
Said the snake that slithers and begs

Author Eileen Clark