Friday Poems Archive: 2018 July through December
A Song for New Year’s Eve
Welcome guest poet, William Cullen Bryant—who is all about the new year!
Full moon mañana. Wishing you clear skies!
Inspired by the view from Nichols Drive in West Plains, Mo.
Originally published in my book, O: Love Poems from the Ozarks, from TS Poetry Press.
Do folks still write Christmas cards? 😛
I hope so!
Driving to Autumn Jazz Near Hermann, Missouri
This is an older poem of mine but a personal favorite. Many thanks to the editors at Mid Rivers Review who originally published them poem.
The title is a word play on the traditional Japanese theatrical play, Noh (the theme of the October 12th poem). Enjoy!
modern haiku #2
Recently, Jenni and I gathered with good friends in our back yard and had a full-moon fire. What a delight. And this poem . . . emerged.
Ode to Autumn
This is the first guest post at Friday Poems. So I decided to make it a good one: an excerpt from “To Autumn” from Mr. John Keats. Composed nearly two hundred years ago, September of 1819. Enjoy!
What I Heard
Some years ago, a friend committed suicide. I think of her, and her kind soul, often.
Inspired by the Japanese Noh play tradition.
I wrote the first draft of this poem about five years ago. I’ve always liked it. Hope you like it, too. And very pleased that the awesome editorial crew of Constance and Kathleen (and now Joshua) at Gyroscope Review published it in 2016.
There is a heckuvan oak tree beside a local church here in West Plains. Each fall, it becomes this heart-stopping color of orange.
The Nuisance of Nouns
With autumn here, the songs of the cicadas and katydids are coming to a close. Today’s poem is also inspired by the wonderful retreats I take at a Cistercian abbey in the Ozarks.
Elegy for an Old Friend
Feeling nostalgic, as I oft am, I thought back to some halcyon days when I lived in Kansas City. And this one is to a dear, dear friend from KC.
A fun haiku I banged out on the typewriter some time ago. Inspired by watching rain fall on the downtown Square here in West Plains.
In the Ozarks, one of the first signs of summer’s transition to fall is the turning and falling of walnut leaves.
With school back in session, I thought it appropriate to post a poem about one of my inspirational elementary school teachers. I changed his name and took poetic license, but the sentiment rings true. I hope you can relate.
This an ode to Taco Hut of West Plains.
For those of us who remember . . .
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