And You Thought My Poetry Was Weird?

This here is my latest
Piece of home décor
Which most normal sane people
Will consider and deplore

Why is this odd woman
Collecting sticks and trees?
She thinks that this looks good?
Oh dear, oh my, oh please!

But yes, I do like it
Though my taste is rather strange
And all those sticks were free
So I can always rearrange

The visual pleases me
I added each twig just so
So will I ever change this?
Right now I’m thinking, no.

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Great Blue

I think of him
As a southern bird
But up here in summer
He is not of unheard

A great blue heron
Keeps visiting the shack
At the lakefront, of course
Not the woods in the back

At dawn and at dusk
He presides at the dock
Regal and majestic
Assessing fish-stock

A symbol of self-reliance
In myth and in lore
Herons are loners
That is for sure

Which means he’s a bird
Who knows me quite well
And maybe that’s why
I’ve been under his spell

And why at my lakefront
He’s become quite a fixture
But he’s camera shy
So I don’t have a picture

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Bear Scare

Have made it to
My Vermont summer shack
First wildlife I see?
A bear that was black

He was frolicking (?) on
The road to the store
I walk there daily
There’ll be many more

Walks that is
But bears? Let us hope
He was lost and now’s found
Cuz’ with bears I can’t cope

Garter snakes and deer
The occasional toad
These I expect
On my little dirt road

But bears are too big
With huge teeth and four claws
If I see him again
It will give me great pause

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Spring Already, Spring

I like my wool sweaters
Really I do
But by this time of year
You’d think I’d be through

Record cold temps
The weatherman tells me
So of my wool sweaters
I’m not yet set free

I have cotton blouses
And tee-shirts galore
Shucking the heavy stuff
That’s what spring’s for

Grey, beiges, and blacks
I’m so sick of these hues
I’m ready for paisley,
Pinks, and bright blues

Daffodils have blossomed
Robins have appeared
But I’m still wearing wool
Sorry, but that’s weird

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No Christmas Tree, No Christmas Tree

This time of year
A sight common to see
Some people love
To put up a tree
The holiday spirit
Fills them with glee
Decorating their house

From bottom to top
Some enthusiasts
Don’t like to stop
They fill every corner
With green and red glop

To all that clutter
Silver bells and mistletoe
Some say yes
But I say no, no
At Christmas my house
Has little to show

I’m not such a scrooge
Oh, what the heck
I scattered colored lights
All over the deck
And inside you’ll find
A few Santa specks

Hubby helped hang
A wreath on the door
Betty the cat likes her
Santa toy on the floor
And my gargoyles are garlanded
Who really needs more?

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The Veterinarian Blues

Betty the cat
Can be quite a pill
But despite her strong
Feline will

I like her spunk
I love her lots
Until its time
To get her shots

Then we journey
To the vet
Who tells me he
Has never met

A cat so vicious
Mean and fearsome
Her annual visit
Is truly wearisome

Together we watch
Betty hiss and howl
When that gets old
She has this growl

Betty’s a nice cat
I tell the doctor
And he looks at me
Like I’m off my rocker

Since the cat I adore
He never has seen
The cat in his office
Is always so mean

I don’t understand
What makes her so nuts
But Betty sure tells us
No ifs, ands, or buts

That she does not like
The veterinarian
So she prides herself
On being contrarian

We brace ourselves
And get the job done
But the vet never says
“Gee, that was fun!”

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My Favorite Dromedary

Riding a camel
Was a new thing for me
But I had lots of fun
As you can here see

I was in the Sahara
Yep, you read that right
And Maurice, my camel
Was downright polite

He knelt in the sand
And blinked his huge eyes
I hopped on his back
And then he would rise

The ride was bumpy
But oh so much fun
I wore lots of clothes
To protect me from sun

Hubby was with me
And Abraham our guide
Was very helpful
In teaching us to ride

On top of Maurice
I saw the dunes and the sand
When we reached camp
There was a Berber drum band

We spent one hot night
At the camp in the dunes
But our time in the desert
Ended too soon

The next morning Maurice
Carried me away
Of my Sahara adventure
This I will say

Maurice, my dromedary
I will always remember
This definitely was
My most magical September

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Marrakech And Me

I’m in Africa
For the very first time
And so it deserves
Its very own rhyme

To be specific
A lovely city
Really terrific

The cacti are green
The stucco is pink
I like the mint tea
A very good drink

Snake charmers
And acrobats
And people wearing
unusual hats

Bought some slippers
In Moroccan styles
I also like
The Marrakech tiles

The tajine is tasty
The temperature’s hot
Tomorrow the Sahara!
To give camel-riding a shot

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Until Next Year

Fall is arriving
Winter is near
And so that means
That I can’t be here

The unheated shack
Is perfect for summer
But I hate the cold
I think it’s a bummer

The mice will take over
While we’re away
Without my cat guarding
They get to play

The garden perennials
Will grow without care
Next spring when I’m back
They’ll already be there

The snow will settle
On lawn and on roof
In Vermont in the winter
There’s never enoof

One last canoe paddle
Then we bring in the dock
The birds are flying south
Flock after flock

I’m headed there also
But Vermont, never fear
Like the birds I’ll be back again
See ya’ next year

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Taking Flight With All Their Might

The goslings who
All summer I’ve been spying
Just this week
Have taken to flying

They practice often
With Dad and Mom
Who are concerned
For wings to grow strong

Flying in silence
Must be no fun at all
So they honk-honk away
And to Mom and Dad call

Look at me! Look at me!
See what I can do
I’ll be part of the flock
When summer is through

Where they’ll fly then
I really know not
But watching them grow up
Makes me smile a lot

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