Fences

My poem, inspired by Robert Frost’s Good Fences make good neighbors (Mending Wall), and my own neighbor’s fence.

Fences

I bought a house upon the shore

Where neighbors dropped by door to door

Then one citizen grew a thorn

That was when the 1st fence was born

From front to back, as high as me

Beyond that point, no longer see

I thought his neighbor must be bad

To make this fence builder so mad

This was the house across the lake

Not a concern for me to take

Until a friend three houses down

Found fence posts popping from the ground

With sympathy I did listen

As her tears down cheeks did glisten

Beyond that fence I could not see

Until this scourge happened to me

I bought a house upon the shore

Where neighbors gathered door to door

No one seems to care except me

Of lost shoreline camaraderie 

Time

I haven’t written poems for quite a while. While shopping, I over heard some ladies talking about how time flies when they are browsing. That inspired me to come up with this. 

Time
Not enough time 
it is soon gone
yet in heartbreak 
it takes too long 

When having fun 
time will fly by 
in misery 
it slows, but why?

If want long lives 
in endless time 
then must endure 
life filled with slime 

Like food eaten 
but not tasted 
joy speeds time up 
like years wasted 

So give to me 
a life that’s fast 
I do not care 
for time to last

Poetry: Piano Practice


Gwen Sketch at Organ-full

Piano Practice

by June Nash

.

Mommy, why must I stay?

Must I the piano play?

My friends are all outside

Running, laughing, so gay

.

Mommy, was this your dream?

Through me, you live, it would seem

For you I will abide

I work hard to see you beam

.

Mommy, why must I stay?

Must sit at keys and play?

My feelings they collide

For it’s such a sunny day

This is my second poem, written for the painting of my granddaughter sitting at a piano.   I haven’t had a chance to get any more work done on the painting last week.  Too busy with what life throws my way. I have it, not quite completed but close, hanging, unframed, on my living room wall.  I enjoy looking at it, it inspires me to make some time to finish it. 

The photo shown is the original photograph that the painting was created from.  It is an organ, not a piano, but I am taking advantage of my poetic license.  

Painting and Poem: Budding Flower

IMG_2277

Budding Flower 

by June Nash

.

She sits, quiet, in back of the room.

Wishing, wanting to stand out, flaunt her plume

Like a model walking with confident stride

In dark shadow, instead, she seems to hide

Not know, unsure, of her latent power

With smile, and pride, she’d bloom like a flower

.

She sits, quiet, fingers making the noise

Dreaming, waiting, to flaunt her style with poise

A pianist who plays with confident airs

In dark shadow, instead, silently stares

Not known, not shown, incredible power

With smile, and pride, she’d bloom like a flower

.

About the painting:

Not quite finished yet.  I like the way it is turning out though.  

I finally got around to writing a poem for it.  

I wrote two poems, but you will have to wait until next week to see the other.

Poem: Wrapped In Worries

.

Wrapped In Worries

by June Nash

.

Woke up today

wrapped in you

Your problems, hurts

and pains too

I do not mind

truly don’t

But I can’t help

it’s not won’t

.

You’re wrapped up in 

others too

Their needs, deeds, and 

want to dos

Time to think now

of yourself

Before you waste 

your good health

.

It’s not the time 

that is spent

That makes me feel 

late on rent

It’s the worry 

I embrace

Watching the qualms

that you face

.

You worry too

fret and cry

About those who 

never try

Those who let you 

be their crutch

They will leave you 

without much

.

So I’ll lend to you

caring ears

Even share in

salty tears

I won’t take your 

worries though

Cannot let you 

steal my glow