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A haiku in honor of Joyce and Sally's June Birthdays


(https://allevents.in/utica/tipsy-paint-night-june-blossoms/1024948530873537)


Fragrant Jewels

June blossoms bring joy
to those privileged to inhale
their lustrous essence.


© 2016 by Rose Marie Boyd


   
              An infant crawls into a toddler
                  The toddler tumbles into a boy
                       The boy lurches into a teenager
                             The teenager springs into a man
                                  The man advances into a daddy
                                       The daddy slides into a grandpa
                                            The grandpa drifts into an angel



 ©2015 by Rose Marie Boyd

Trying to pedal backwards gets you nowhere.


© 2015 by Rose Marie Boyd


Despite the defensiveness a man hides behind, his faults and secrets are eventually revealed.




The wall between them
fails to keep the ugly truth
from being exposed.

©  2015 Haiku by Rose Marie Boyd





Humph! He acted as if we've never met before.



Mr. Moon

He was playing coy with me again tonight. 
Flitting in and out between the clouds,
he wasn’t man enough to face me straight on.


© 2015 Photo & Poem by Rose Marie Boyd

Preconceived notions impact the way we see ourselves and the things around us.







©  2015 Haiku by Rose Marie Boyd


My son Justin has a dominant personality. He’s very successful in convincing others that doing things his way is the less painful way to go.

(Photo taken at Medieval Times, NJ)


SUCH ROYAL MAJESTY


Be it beast or man,
Friend or foe, all bow their heads
and bend to his will.


© 2015 by Rose Marie Boyd

Ever go to the funeral of a good friend or dear relative and regret never telling them how much they really meant to you?



Love and affection:
best conveyed to the living

’fore death thwarts the chance.





© 2015 by Rose Marie Boyd




Desperate solutions can turn bad situations into catastrophic disasters.



With prospects dimming,
a bright idea surfaces
to blaze a worse course.


© 2015 Photo & Haiku by Rose Marie Boyd






A few random haiku:




Despondent drifters
Pause on the reefs of regret
To await high tide.


As the meekest dream,
The moon invites the boldest
To survey the night.

Lured by the slick pitch,
A bluff canting brisk returns,
Greed assumes all risk.

Dying of boredom…
Sickened by monotony…
Desperate for a cure.

Brooding is feeble.
Though it longs for the wishbone,
It tugs with no spine.

Never a sure bet,
Luck presents tempting long shots
But no guarantees.

Walking on eggshells
Puts sensitive soles at risk
For irritation.

Once germinated,
Intrusive weeds grow thirsty
And quite tenacious.

As a cover-up,
the fabric of pride stretches,
but only so far.

To provide rescue,
 A magnanimous gesture
 With modest rewards.

Even bad apples
Contain dark seeds predestined
To grow in like form.

A sensitive cow
resents the callow butcher
manhandling her flesh.

Strict deprivation:
the ultimate pathway to
overindulgence.

Though trouble smolders,
sparks of dread ignite to stoke
burning addictions.





Feeling down about not being with our East Coast families for Thanksgiving, I tried to cheer myself up by listing a few of the many things for which I can be thankful.


For What Am I Grateful?


Bright sun in the sky
Much food on my plate
Roof over my head
Free time to create

Strong man at my side
Phone calls from our kin
Close friends to enjoy
A set point to win

Seven letter words
Live, verdant houseplants
Sweet dreams when I sleep
Good books if I can’t

Green hills in our view
A fresh mountain breeze
Ideas to write down
My piano keys
   
© 2014 by Rose Marie Boyd



After surviving the worst of times, it's often hard to take the first step toward a happier, more fulfilling life.


(I'd love for someone talented to put this poem to music, rap or rock.)

 (Drawing by Rose Marie Boyd)

Never Too Late

 Rolled out the dice, took a chance on life;
The cubes crapped out, caused all kinds of strife.
Rode out the storm, survived the rough patch,
Walkin' on eggs till some good breaks hatch.

Waitin' for answers, as the handles turn,
Watchin' time fly, as the hours burn.
Gonna rise up, slip into fresh shoes,
Tap a new song, no more singin' the blues.


 Copyright 2014 by Rose Marie Boyd