My 3 line LUNE poems

LUNES are little 3 line poems like haikus only easier for children to write. I wrote these when I took a class on various poetic forms. The rules are simple: first line 3 words, second line 5 words, third line 3 words.

Bobby Sherman sings

Lifts my spirit high above

A world forlorn

Happy little faces

School bus pulls out groaning

Loaded with children

Substitute teacher laughs

They thought they could trick

A wise woman

Shuttered windows wink

a world of noise without

quiet peace within

My Prose: Daffodills are Fairy Teacups

Daffodills are Fairy Teacups

When the gentle moon smiles down upon the creatures of the night, and cricket sing of broken hearted lovers yet unborn, the fairies come out of hiding. They dance through the night spreading love dust and drinking ambrosia from teacups of yellow gold. They eat cherries, grapes and strawberries, and riding on the backs of nightngales they search the darkness for small children and lonely women. Fairies watch our dreams for entertainment.

When the fairies have found a lonely woman sleeping soundly, they sneak in through an open window, or down a chimney, and creeping carefully into the theatre of her dreams they watch like clever begger's children as she plays out all her hopes and fears. Sometimes they tickle her ear with a tiny feather and whisper ideas into her ear to make her dream change. Their favorite dreaming women are artists because they dream in full color with all of their senses involved.

When the sun's rays lighten the sky and the lark's voice splits the morning silence, they run to hide in secret places. Sometimes, in their flight they may knock something from a shelf or leave the feather in her ear, or a single dewdrop in the corner of her eye. Often they awaken a sleeping dog or cat while making their escape and the confused animal searches through the house for the strange little invaders, creating chaos and awakening the woman.

"What is going on here?" she calls out as a glass is knocked off the kitchen counter and shatters on the floor. She rubs her eyes and sits up in bed, calling to her pet. Stroking the soft fur, and scratching the velvet ears, she looks into the face of her old friend and says, " I had such strange dreams last night!"

My poem/song lyrics: Lord I Surrender

Lord, I Surrender

Lord, take control of me.

Renew my life and let me see

that the fullness of Your life and love

is mine to share.

Make me a channel

Of your saving grace and cleansing blood;

Make my life a shelter for a person in dispair.

Release me into the current

of Your Spirit's Power

And fill me each moment of the day

and every hour.

Make my life count for You

in everything I say and do.

Help me ever to pursue

the fullness of Your love.

Lord, take complete control

of my body, mind and soul.

Give me grace to trust You

and surrender to Your will

Let me know Your promised rest

When I face each trial and test

so that You may manifest Yourself

to all the world.

Release me into the current

of Your Spirit's Power

And fill me each moment of the day

and every hour.

Make my life count for you

in everything I say or do.

Help me ever to pursue the fullness of your love.

Take my life and fill it with your love,

Lord, take my life and fill it with your love.

Eyes Wide Open Peace Exhibit

This exhibit at my church last Sunday has been so moving to me that I wanted to share it with my readers. The shoes were scattered beside and on the pews with tags attached with the names and sometimes photos of Americans and Iraqis who had been killed in the war. There were small pieces of fabric with names and death dates sewn to ribbons and draping the walls of the foyer with more shoes beneath. I photographed several of the displays and I think I'll let them speak for themselves. I started to cry several times during the service and couldn't sing. I go to a Quaker church and this is a traveling exhibit.

My poem: Thank you to a Handsome Young Stranger

Thankyou

How can I say thank you

For things I can't explain--

For giving me back blushing cheeks,

A pounding heart and the joy of life.

Thank you

For making me smile when I'm alone,

For filling a rainy day with sun,

For making the air heavy with sweetness,

And each breath I take a pleasure.

This little love poem was written to a young man who locked eyes with mine

and smiled when I was looking out of a study area at PSU

32 years ago. I watched for him for several weeks but never saw him again.

The memory of that brief encounter boosted a lonely

college girl's self esteem and I was left with a sweet feeling of gratitude.

My Poem: Anthology Love Poem Poet to Poet

I wrote this poem when I was taking a poetry class and had become attracted to a fellow student. I imagined our poems published in an anthology on facing pages.

Love Poem

Poet to Poet

Our two poems lie

Face to face

Between

Crisp white sheets of paper

Pressed title to title,

Signiture to signiture.

More than reflections,

They are ourselves,

Stripped naked

And unmasked,

Beautiful and unashamed.

We meet each other

Within a dimension

Where we can't make excuses,

And are unable to lie.

Strangers,

Like old lovers reunited:

Speaking without words,

Touching without hands,

Sharing secrets in silence,

Embracing each other

Beoynd the barriers of "self."

My Poem: Nightmare

This two part poem was written when I was in college. The second part is based on a real nightmare that was so intense I fainted in the dream and awoke in a cold sweat with my heart pounding in terror. It was the final term of my senior year at college and I was determined to earn straight As and graduate with honors. After the nightmare I immediately made changes in my schedule and stopped my volunteer tutoring in the PSU Writing Workshop, since it was obvious that I was overextended and on the verge of some sort of melt down. I have used my dreams and nightmares since then to help me monitor my hopes and fears.

Nightmare

No time--

I'm late!!

Hurry to classes,

Don't make excuses,

Eat on the run,

Read on the bus.

(Sometimes I wonder if I'll make it through.)

My calendar warns me that midterms are due.

Finally finished,

I read what I've written

and find it all rubbish,

my efforts in vain.

Visions of FAILURE

like black curtained hearses

slowly and silently

file through my brain.

Exhausted and empty,

I drop on my bed,

my alarm set for five,

and close my eyes.

Trapped

and surrounded,

crouching,

bent double,

in a windowless room

with low ceiling

and cold white walls,

That press in upon me.

Ugly black spiders

wait in the corners

watching my struggles

thirsty for blood.

They crawl across ceiling,

Abandoning corners,

slowly advancing

straight for my head.

Tensing cramped muscles,

I draw myself tighter,

I scream only silence,

my knees turn to water.

I feel myself fainting,

I fall into blackness.

I welcome the darkness

that welcomes the dead.

Blaring and humming

a noise screams "ATTENTION!"

I open my eyes,

The clock says it's five.

Taxes are done!

Thank you for your patience! I finished my taxes and will be posting again soon!

I Met Mark Lindsey Tonight

Tonight I met Mark Lindsey!

Tonight I went to Mark Lindsey's Rock and Roll Cafe and Mark came out of the radio station booth and signed my copy of his Silverbird album and posed for a picture with me. He sang my friend and I "Happy Birthday" and he was lovely and gracious. I highly recommend the delicious food too. What a fun and memorable evening! If you were a Paul Revere and the Raiders fan, or a Mark Lindsey fan, you should visit his resturant on NE Sandy, in Portland, Oregon and meet him yourself. What a sweetheart! Enjoy the photos!

My Poem: True Confessions

TRUE CONFESSIONS

How an English Major Spent Spring Vacation

Barbarian for a week

I sit hunched over

In the middle of the floor

Greedily consuming

Mountains of forbidden delights.

For breakfast

I munch comic books

For lunch

I ravenously devour

whole Gothics

in one sitting.

Before dinner,

I gulp down

a couple of volumes

of home grown

Fantasy and Science fiction,

By dinner time I'm drunk.

Having lost all sense of decency,

I lie in bed

Curled up with

Alfred Hitchcock

And Ellery Queen

Mystery magazines

Until early morning...

Monday morning comes.

I blow the dust from my literary tomes

And hurry back to PSU

Once more dignified and proper.

My week of wanton reveling

forgotten

Except for the stiff neck

and bloodshot eyes.

Written when I was earning my BA in English Literature in 1977.