by Alicia Beckwith
Carpet of Gold
The wind shimmers the leaves on the trees
slowly, then gives a gentle, caressing breeze.
The leaves dance back and forth
With tickling wind out of the north.
Colors shine bright in noon day light.
As they dance, they put on a show
with branches sweep high and low.
Yellow, orange, red, rust, crimson bright
Twirling in the warm soft afternoon light.
They cling tightly, hanging on with all their might
from early morning light on into darkest of night.
The winds turn chillier, the rain gets colder
And soon, the leaves, they grow bolder
as one by one they lose their grip
and down to the ground they slip.
Daily grows a carpet of orange and gold
so beautiful description cannot be told.
Creeping into Winter
The sun warms the earth each day
as we wake up to be our way.
The leaves wriggle as breezes blow
boughs sweeping, bending low.
Tree roots growing ever so deep
as along forest floors they creep.
The shade it surely gave to all
gradually disappears into fall.
Colors splendid and rich go forth
with mighty cold winds of north.
Bare arms greet rain and snow
as winter takes on its eerie glow.
What’s a Bu-En??
When I hear people say this,
it makes me want to ask:
“Did you say bu en?
Are you asking what you can put your but in?”
Today’s younger population has come up with
a new way to pronounce many words.
I don’t understand how this is accepted in
the work place, i.e. television, hospitals, radio, etc.
I’ll give you a few examples:
I need to bu –en my coat.
In the town of Perrngton.
In the town of Bri –en.
I could go on and on, but
this gives the reader a good sample.
These people are NEVER corrected.
Does this mean that the LAZY TONGUE is accepted?
How can this be?
When I was young, we were told to
listen to the radio,
Learn from the announcers on television.
They can teach us how to speak
Proper grammar is somewhat nonexistent!
Subject verb agreement has been slowly disappearing
and the worst thing is……..
those who are listening don’t seem to even know it’s incorrect.
Powers that be don’t send these folks to ENGLISH 101.
BUT, colleges aren’t correcting these errors now either
I’ll give you some more examples:
Her and I went to the store
Use guys are gonna play ball
It’s I’s and she’s car
Again, this is just a small sample.
It’s a sad society that allows these errors
without trying to educate and correct.
Does this mean that we JUST DON’T CARE?
I sincerely hope not.
She stands naked in winter,
tall and full come summer.
Skin of alabaster white for all to see,
branches holding her dress in summer breeze.
The lane is far as I walk along
gazing at fields of lush green.
Now I can see the large barn
housing livestock from the storms.
I look up and see the sky peek through
those lacy green dancing leaves.
The sycamore trunks all alike
long giraffe necks peering out.
They stand askew greeting everyone
who grace their path anew
and all those friends of old
saying, “Welcome to Sycamore Row.”
Recessed Corners of the Mind
Another friend is leaving me ever so slowly
like petals picked off by the wind.
The light in the eyes grows dim
as the mind twists away memories.
They fade into greyness like the night
no longer do we meet out for fun
or to talk of things so deep
that the heart harbors away
as if to protect our vulnerability.
It’s sad to think back on times
Tthat are so boldy different now…..
toknow that they are gone forever
into the twisted fibers of the mind.
Nazareth’s Cinderella Rabbit
(At Nazareth College)
I saw a metal rabbit beyond the reading room.
Lights glistened off the sculpture including that plume!
Ears curled ‘bout her head, broach amidst her curls.
And her whiskers were adorned with pearls.
Matching her sash and gorgeous earrings
Pearls separate her gown and all her other things.
That gown billows out to hide her thumper feet.
Her paws were wrapped about her clutch bag so sweet.
Dressed by Fairy God-mother, ready for a spectacular ball,
All coiffed, polished, bedecked with earrings of pearl, gown and all
Watching the boughs of leaves on the trees
Swaying in the hot summer breeze,
heat waves reverse trickle from the driveway
on a ninety five degree sizzling summer day
A lazy, hazy gentle life, just rockin’ away
thinkin’ of days long gone – back when days
of young love, sexy soft and ever so sweet
that in my old years I keep hidden in retreat
It’s nice to look back on days gone, of old
of secrets, of torrid nights left untold.
Now I’m in the twilight of those ‘golden’ years
that bring joys, memories, laughter and tears.
I don’t have lots of regrets, ‘tis sure
when I look back on my ears with you.
Just love and plenty of it to keep me
on this final end of my journey.
In Darkest of Night
Quiet creeps over the town as all are sleeping.
Toys are stowed away for safekeeping.
Stars sparkle lending complimentary light
to the moon taking its regular flight.
Outside, night owls on the wing
turn to make their hunting upswing.
Tiny creatures take their chances
as predators start their ritual dances.
Fluttering of wings heard by ears so small
waiting for the raptor’s call
run and hide shivering with fright
in the darkest of night.
“Hi, How are You?” You Ask —–
“Hi!, How are you”, you ask.
But you don’t wait for an answer
as you rush through your agenda
pat me on the back then rush away.
“How are you?”
You really want to know?
I doubt it – it’s just a button you push
when you don’t know what else to say.
Sales clerks, car salesmen and, well everyone ask this question.
Most without a hesitation of politeness.
Most everyone continues to talk right after asking.
Why do we do this?
Why are we so artificial, not really caring
to talk to the other person for just a real minute?
Why don’t we care anymore?
Don’t we have feelings anymore?
Can’t we stop to really talk?
Really listen, and then speak –
Let them know we’re interested,
so the they know we care?
What has happened to our society
where we give this perfunctory greeting
then rush on not letting the other person reply?
It just doesn’t mean a thing ———————————-anymore.
Alicia Beckwith is a local poet and has been writing poetry for four decades. Her poems have been published in book collections and magazines.