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

A gave a poetry toast at my daughter and son-in-law's wedding.


"To Jessica and Justin...(OOPS!)...I mean Jessica and Brian"
Jessica promptly stood up and clarified, "Justin's my brother!"
for the benefit of anyone at the wedding who might think he was an ex-boyfriend.


Clicking Together


Love, like any fine wine,
can be savored by two.

Although it may taste livelier when fresh,
its flavor can improve with age.

But, if it’s bottled up and sits gathering dust,
there are no guarantees it won’t go sour.

So keep your love uncorked and, with hearts pumping stronger,
you’ll enjoy a healthier, more satisfying marriage.
        

© 2014 by Rose Marie Boyd

The distant hills visible from my front window remind me of the ocean.


A Calming Sea


Disturbed by stormy thoughts,
I glance out my porthole
At the rolling waves.

Absorbed by the green swells,  
The turbulence within me
Drowns in their wake.



Photo and Poem © 2008 by Rose Marie Boyd

It's not always easy to focus on the positive. But it may be worth it in the long run.


Fleeting Moments


Like clouds in a windy sky, days breeze by
Jam-packed with emotional haze.

Some are filled with the moisture of tears
And cast dark shadows on your dreams.

Others float by light and airy;
They shade you from the feverish pace of life.

Since they all fade into vaporous memories,
Dismiss the gloom and cherish the buoyant joys.


© 2006 by Rose Marie Boyd