By dennis Patton
IT’S POSSIBLE
To run along the river banks
And dream while you’re awake
To fall madly in love
To cry when you look into Someone’s else’s eyes To love yourself
To be positive when someone
Is negative
To right a wrong
To call your best friend To admit when you’re wrong
To laugh uncontrollably To say, “I love you.” —Jessica Gray
Benton
COME FLY WITH ME
When I was just a kid in country school,
Aladdin’s Carpet beckoned and I flew
across the sky so high I felt the cool
vibrations of the world where poems grew.
I breathed the rhythm floating through the air
above pink-frosted clouds. The melody
of velvet words kept whispering a prayer
repeating softly, “You can fly with me.”
Then, back to earth; to listen with my heart;
to taste my baby’s tears; to write, revise
and study hard to learn poetic art.
To offer people-poetry with pride,
just grab a magic carpet. Take a ride!
—Verna Lee Hinegardner Former Poet Laureate
THE PERIL OF DRINK
A ventriloquist found drink yummy
And, thus, soon became a rummy
Which turned out quite sad
For he was so bad
That he made less sense than his dummy.
— Howard Nobles Deceased
A METAPHOR
The mighty tree stands alone, battered and beat.
It’s stood the winter’s bitter cold,
and the summer’s brutal heat.
But someday it, too, will fall, as all have done before.
It’s roots still run deep and anchor it in place.
It still sings, as the wind blows through its branches and waves to all with its leaves in the soft, summer breeze. It has provided shade and shelter for those below but the weather and time has taken its toll.
Too soon, it will be gone,
with few to remember.
So, spread out a blanket
and enjoy while you can.
Tell others and family of this
once great, kind man.
— John Zylma Benton
DON’T TELL ME WHEN I’M OLD I’M PRETTY SURE I’LL KNOW
How can I cram myself into that mold
Reserved for those in aging ladyhood
When I have yet to feel the pangs of “old”?
But those who know my birthdate think I should.
They say that I should act more dignified
And please don’t try to cross the street alone.
Do watch your step and don’t lift heavy things
And God forbid that you should break a bone.
Well, I’m not ready for the rocking chair,
Although I will accept it graciously
When I get old -- like crowding ninety-nine.
But until then, BUTT OUT and let me be me.
— Faye Boyette Wise Deceased
APPLES
It wasn’t easy for Eve in the garden
where she stood alone, looking,
longing to touch.
The surprised visit with daring talk happened to chalk up one which proved too much.
Adam later made his play, offered his excuse--her fault. She was ushered on her way.
Adam followed suit.
Play it forward to modern time.
Men still choose and have to lose.
Looking back it’s still a crime to taste the tainted fruit. — Dennis Patton Alexander
To submit poems for publication, please send poems of 16 or fewer lines to Dennis Patton, 2512 Springhill Circle, Alexander, AR 72002, or patton_dr@hotmail.com.