I'm an elderly lady with three grown children, two granddaughters, and many great grandchildren. I paint, (watercolors) and I write short stories and poetry. I am published on All Poetry, Wordpress,, poetrySoup, Spillwords and
Literary Revelations. I have three awesome websites you can visit by clicking on the images below and thank you for making my life fun and fulfilling.
The dandelion to a gardener, no word could be worse From a man's lips it's often combined with a curse Your neighbor smirks as he looks over your fence Lotta good it did what with all the money you spent
They pop up by the thousands in the middle of the night Right after you mowed all day, it just doesn't seem right Growing along busy highways standing fearless and tall Breaking through cement sidewalks, tar roads and brick walls
And yet if you should pick one and study it for a awhile Seeing more then just a dandelion will bring about a smile I'll tell you for certain what will take your breath away Is when your child hands you a big dandelion bouquet
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 faster, 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 quicker pace, Gleefully I laugh as the moon lights up my brother’s face.
I went for a walk with my mama today It wasn't great weather one could say She has a red umbrella with polka dots I have one too made just for little tots
The sky was dark and the rain poured down I kept close to mom for fear I might drown I love rainy days and hope we have lots and lots The more I can use my red umbrella with polka dots
I’m waiting for Spring and other nice things, Aren’t you? I’m waiting for warmer weather, I’m waiting for fine 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 nasty slimy snake that slithers and begs
Author Eileen Clark April 2019
Image: John’s Studio Garden Decor for Outside on Amazon
February brings winter’s end, A time for snow to slowly descend, But the hint of spring is just around the bend, And the beauty of nature is on the mend. The snowflakes fall in silence and grace, A winter wonderland, a magical place, But as the snow melts, spring takes its place, And the world is transformed, what a precious little space.
On winter nights my bedroom seemed gray and bland Then mom would turn on the lamp on the bedside stand I can’t explain how it happend with one small click So pink and so bright, it was like a magical trick Night after night soft pink roses would light up my room I felt warm and safe, one click and my roses would bloom
Groundhog day is here once again It happens every year my friend When he looks up at the sky Will he laugh or will he cry
Does he stay out or retreat back to his den And wait six weeks more for spring to begin Will his shadow dance and play Or is spring still six more weeks away
Why do we celebrate groundhog day It started in Canada and Pennsylvania USA
Author Eileen Clark
Authors note, this is the worst poem I've ever written! Image: e:https://www.amazon.com/.../B0BK.../ref=asc_df_B0BK86D8ZT/...
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 and table cloths with a white embroidered design, Sunday dinner with aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents so fine Pot roast or chicken, mashed potatoes and strawberry rhubarb pie. Hanging on to memories, happy times and some times to cry.
Life was livable and children were sweet, often quiet and shy, Streets filled with kids on bicycles or roller skates, and kites in the sky. Air filled with sounds of horns and whistles, a baseball cracking off of a bat, The shouts of children with laughter and joy, oh the 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 white linen, an unforgettable fresh smell.
Front yards had white picket fences and trellises with climbing roses, 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 Oak and Maple trees.
Robins and Bluebirds on branches hidden amongst the leaves, Clothes lines with clothes pins gripping sheets waving in the breeze Crisp clean linens spreading out against the light blue sky, So many memories of wonderful times in my life gone by
kentucky55.wordpress.com 