“The Goodbye Clown”

Photo by Jacqueline Casey “The Goodbye Clown” It tolls; the old town clock is winding down. It’s time to leave the party; say goodbye. He’s played the fool and knows he’s but a clown but fantasies go deep and so he sighs: “Time’s granted me another twenty-four,” to ghost who sits in silence at the…

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“April’s Tree”

“April’s Tree” The tree outside my window flutters green. She’s pregnant with Bach’s flute sonata soon. Delighted with her lofty leaf,  she leans as pigeon poets wrap within her, croon. You’ve had the better hour of my bright morn and still I pause to hear you play your part; enticing birds_ those  jazz-men with a…

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“Why Are You So Silent, Jackleen?”

“Why Are You So Silent, Jackleen?” So while she sleeps, she snuggles here with me. I hold her tiny feet close to my breast. No baby’s breath I sense as she so breathes. No sound is heard. My rocker takes a rest. Her fading flower forgives too-early bloom. The petals close upon my rosy child.…

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“Settled In Alabama”

(Photo of my Grandmother, 1892-1979, by J. Casey)   “Settled In or Life in Alabama” We plant ourselves on hard, red clay out back. A dusty game of Jacks set our hearts free but near mid-morning, we are hungry birds and stand outside our granny’s country store. We shuffle dirty, bare feet; outstretched hands: Six…

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“On Ormond Beach”

On Ormond Beach Upon this beach, the people saunter by. Idyllic children play at water’s edge. The warm wind blows its foam into my eyes. My swimming fins sink quickly from this ledge. And, lo! my body, buoyed by the salt forgets. My mind has slipped the bony cage. Free floating, spiny blob, I’m fish,…

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Day 25 “The Last Straw”

“The Last Straw” Last Straw where dice are thrown; where Humpty’s shadow ends. The one that broke my camel’s heart: final blow. Day 25, April PAD, Writer’s Digest. Prompt: write about a ‘last straw’.  Form used: cinquain  

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“A Poem for Your Pocket”

“Tell it To My Heart” Though Heaven acts as anchor for my soul, a lofty tether is your earthly kiss. Since Heaven’s orb shines brightest in your eyes, I’ll  choose that crown of gold:  your blissful sigh. Day 24 April, 2014,  PAD Challenge, Writer’s Digest, Prompt: use “tell it to____”

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April PAD: “Growing Up in Southboro Park”

(Photo: Michael Bartlett) “Growing Up in Southboro Park” A landmark in my mind, forever there; Southboro Park: a place not far from school forever pasted in my memory’s share. I do recall that day I was a fool. The end of summer and a picnic planned. My dress; a strapless, Lerner’s, stretchy bust. My mother…

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“Blue-Bonnets”

The Winter’s gone, blue-bonnets poke their beds among a broken fence-line, near a sign. Blue ground now hallowed, they will bloom, instead, in wild confusion for those hearts who pine. And, those who do not see the need for pause; for those who do not heed the gift of life. “Put pedal to the metal”…

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Day 19 PAD, “Green”

“Green” My song has color of some Herrick scene or the Earl of Surrey’s soote, ‘sweet season’. Tasting of flora and the country-green, Keat’s drowsy numbness; nightingale’s treason. They say the hemlock offered Socrates was same as shade of poison parsley. To that dim forest glen, I bend my knees become light-wing`ed dryad of her…

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