Tag Archives: poem

Sitting With the Ghost of Mr. D.H. Lawrence

Sitting outside with the poetry
Of Mr. D.H Lawrence
I feel like I have a bowling ball perched
Between my shoulders
Heavy and dense
Likely to pull me headfirst to the floor at any moment
Beside me I sense him glaring at me
With his thin and handsome face
Eyes rolling
Finally he whispers
"Here is one you can grasp:
'I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
'
Even you should get the gist of that.
It was in a movie after all."

On Symmetry

This morning I looked at a dahlia
Glistening yellow in the rain
Its petals spiraled, regular spikes
Tiny stamens in the dampened mane

I wondered how the bees would struggle
How deep they would have to dive
To mine the precious pollen
And wing back to the hive


Thoughtful, I stared at a buckeye tree
A stubborn, twisted thing
Laden with its poisonous fruit
Spotted trash of the wood
Some would say

When Autumn comes the dahlia dies
Its petals brown and withered
The buckeye will only lose its leaves

Until Spring

Gateway to Elysium

Lying near my home
Is a gateway to Elysium

Framed in dusky silver
And gilded green
A breeze of cool peace
Flows through like breath

When I stand in the gate I see
A tree
A forest
A peach dripping with the sweetest of juice
A stony road glowing golden in the sunshine

But these are everyday things
Can this be Elysium?

If you stand and listen to the silence
You will find
Like Dorothy and the Lion
Elysium was in you all along
Right in the hollow of your heart

by Nell Walton
5/31/19

Our Dog Jake

Our Dog Jake
He truly is a noble beast
Who makes life hell to say the least
A rescue dog, a tiny pup
"He'll be great when he grows up!"

They said his breed was husky dog
To our surprise he is a hog!
40 lbs was the expectation
Passed 80 at our last calculation

His favorite things are squirrels and sticks
And opening doors his cleverest trick
When sirens blare he's to be feared
If burglars come "You're welcome here!"

When he gets hot he loves to swim
Until he's soaked in every limb
He tracks mud all across the floors
And gives his owners extra chores

Despite his sins he is a treasure
Who gives us joy that is beyond measure

Nell Walton
5/25/19