I first tried writing poetry in high school. I was mostly doggerel and drivel, but occasionally it was a little better. Below are two of my better efforts.
Butterfly
Love Scorned
She smiled from across the room, so I fluttered by.
Acted really nice to me, gave me courage to fly.
She took my love so softly and gently by the hand.
And plucked off a wing and laughed as I tumbled to the ground.
Microscope
Or love revisited.
You put me under a microscope and squished me in a slde.
Used a probe to pull out all I had inside.
And I would have gave you all if you would have asked.
This poem was written about 20 years later
Fourteen Years, Eight Months, Eight Days
I never have to think about it, I always know
To the hour and the minute but I don't care to discuss it.
In that happy nether world between awake and asleep.
I hear the shower run.
It stops.
Peppermint wafts from raven hair
cradled in the fold of my arm.
A giggle
A smile.
She speaks my thoughts.
My reason for going on;
My Sunshine;
I rest content.
Untill the bap, bap, bap of the alarm steals her away.
She is a memory
I am awake
I am alone.
She is eight hundred miles away, give or take six feet.
It is fourteen years, eight months, nine days
since the sunshine has gone out in my life.
