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

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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

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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 

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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