Fare-thee-well too lovely
May the winds carry you to kinder shores
Where all tasks are clear
And not overtaxing are the daily chores
We pray for thee comfort
Along with all-fulfilled yearning
While we in a far past
Are left in our wreckage long long burning
Walk on in the fair comely light
May brightness and the cool grace your path
Yours hast been written
Inscrutable even unto the wisest polymath
So, fare-the-well our too lovely
Bring happiness to the yonder years
Yes, you shall be much missed
But joyful will be our following tears
Phooey bears and pumpkins
Broccoling down the street
Word salad sophistry
Perchanching over the peat
But never would we meet
Another pretty smiler laid low
When it all sums out
“Broccoling down the street?”
Bless me back to Ol’ Mississippi
Calling on the phone is Helen Tippie
She’s a nurse byootiful, suitable, and something exquisite
All her patients love her and can’t wait for that next visit;
But we be sending best hopes for that man of hers—
What’s going down is a sad bad curse;
With wishes and prayers that he gets all better
Cause he’s a lovely man, like an Irish setter.
And now let’s end this poem all quick and nifty
Gotta take this call from Helen Tippie—
Saturday night and going to the Carousel
Gonna get me some Cooper and you just can’t tell
How it’s gonna be and where its gonna go
Cuz I really couldn’t say and I just don’t know—
But the music’ll be hot and the beer flowing
The boys all handsome and the girls all a-glowing
So, come on out to that joint on Street Five Two
Get ya some Cooper, we’ll all be looking for you!
Words from around the corner
Came in and fell down
Missing the rhyme and
Acting the clown
No reason or rhythm—
Nothing made sense;
Twas half in caps
And in dodgy tense.
But Einaudi cast ripples
The ivories in congeal
Verbs of steel
The kid goes to the Caribbean
And still has her glee on
Happily, she’s chaste
And none the wiser
A pittance of allowance
From one co-Dad the Miser
Girl be wise
Woman be stronger
You’re soon to be 18
Your shield no longer!
And fled the scene
What a question:
How do I know what I mean?
Sally Gossamer Wingstep heard a most curious sound,
It came from beyond the wilderness copse, over, about, and around;
When Sally flew around the last tree a wonder she could see
A greying Fablehaven hound softly baying at a prone bumblebee.
Sally risked to go closer to inspect this quite usual sight—
Instantly she flew for Johnny H. Beekeeper in a quite frenzied flight.
Can he find the resolution for a bee brought down so low?
If he lacks the right solution, where then could she ever go?
Johnny was tending keen to the so new garden green—
Petite pois on the trellis, coifed and coiled like you’ve never seen,
Tomates on the vine, carrots long and tall, blueberries arching high;
And Johnny’s prized honeycombs, so grand as to make a master bumble bee sigh,
And cousin-once-removed baby Amber Grace with the prettiest wee fairy face
Was flutter-skurrying in and out of plants and was just all over the place!
“Johnny, O Johnny”, Sally cried to her family friend with sure pride
“Come quick with me to see this poor poor bee, laid low and curled to one side.”
Finding hard-working Katje to attend their baby Amber Grace
Sally and Johnny flew straight off to the far away wooded place
With simple mind and quiet grace, John approached the curled up bee
But twas nothing more could be done, was plain and simple to see.
“Let’s take him home” offered John to Sally’s slow honoring tears,
Nodding, Sally looked for brambles to build a sled as for one’s peers.
A far off buzz grew nearer, the Wild Hive had come to find their brother;
A rippling peace reigned as Bumble Bee and Fairy regarded one another.
John and Sally backed away bowing as the Bumble Bees took up the reins
The bees would long remember how those aloof fairies had taken such pains.
The old Fablehaven hound bayed again as the sled disappeared around the wooded copse;
Sally and John made their long slow way back to home and the fairy-grown crops.
Sally made her thank you’s and kissed wee Amber Grace
Quite a wonder to see how Honor and Love forever bless this place.
Looking at Sixty-two
Right in the face
Reminds me that soon
I gotta get out of this place
Back to the Crescent City
To ride a streetcar or two
Hang with my brother apes
Pay full cover at Audubon Zoo
Looking at Sixty-two
Who’s that old man?
Gotta dance some Cajun
Just as soon as I can
Meet John at Da Leaf
Then relax with David at the Columns
Then real beau coups soon
I can let go all these little problems
Looking at Sixty-two
Born in the magic year 1955
Wanna prove them all wrong
And gonna get out of here alive
Just one more beignet
And/or a Merlot-filled glass or two
Then it won’t be all that special
That tomorrow I turn sixty-two
Over there over there
In a significant green field
Stands a solitary all black cow—
What’s she doing out there anyhow?
Way past city Taylor
Over by Rockdale way
Twas gonna see my new babe
To see what she had to say
Seems she changed her mind
And wanted a different dawn to come
So I left her elated and alone
And tried to not be so sad some
Next day over by over there
On grass still so emerald green
That solitary cow still held her court
I’d’ve lingered but tweren’t her sort
Back into my fair Rockdale
A meetup with that twist Jezebel
Things were not much different
At least not that I could tell
Seems her time came to unburden
With a song in a darker minor chord
And then I departed westbound and alone
With all the love I could afford
Passing one significant green field with one black cow—
What kind of love did I think I could rustle out there anyhow?
Several paces past
The beginning and the end,
Comes the space wherein
We like to try it all over again;
Unsay that awful
Which was sorely said;
Get up earlier
And make the stupid bed.
Say goodbye later
And just hang a minute more or two;
Maybe life could be better,
Not this evermore darkening in blue.
Leavening choices cast
Between the close and over there,
We can render a space therein
We can go for the Happy rather than old soggy despair.
Yes, I do agree!
No, that doesn’t make you fat!
Please, of course I’ll wait for you—
You like me? Well, imagine that!
He put the car in drive,
Out the driveway towards Albert Lane,
It would be a new 12 days to pass
Before seeing his daughter again.
He left the window open a crack;
Perhaps she’d forget something and would call?
No, he didn’t like dropping her at Fablehaven;
No, not really, not actually much at all.
His role snap-changed to just an aging man
When moments before he was in a family.
So what if it was only a family in two—
It was all he had here so far west of St. Tammany.
The tears dried absent just as expected,
With old long practice at things not being as one wanted.
Some would exalt giddy at this free, single life,
But he didn’t think that this kind of alone was all that vaunted.
Turning back to home on Glencrest Drive
As another Sunday evening purpled into dark,
He allowed a thought that it was perhaps okay—
And put the car in park.