TWO ONION POEMS

"ONIONS"

                                 by MIl

There are just
     two of us
          now
and

Wouldn't 'cha know it
      we still
           like onions
now then

Don't they grow
     small ones
           anymore?
for

We don't need
     camtaloupe-sized
           onions!

It's true.

What has happened
      to
         everything?
-------------
Send your ten line onion poem
   to Mil and B.E. 

--------------

                         "I LOVE ONIONS"

                      

                     by Bobbie Bolton Burnett

Onions, I love onions

In chicken casseroles

On hamburgers

Mixed with eggs and stuff

You want fries with that?

No, I'll have onions, please!

But it makes my heart quiver

When you ruin my onions 

WITH LIVER!

------------------

by Bobbie Bolton Burnett

     author of 

"My Father's House"

"I JUST DON'T KNOW..."

I just don't know
           if
  I'll  ever    become
       a  Real Poet

for 
     try hard as I may
I cannot 
      seem to think
           of
words that make 
          people weep---
words that say nothing
          and
       mean  nothing
but.       nonetheless

    are beautiful
         and emotional
  and who knows---
       may be metaphors
    of life...of 
                   some kind

               and
besides all that
                    my spacing
         is    awful.
---------

THAT MARVELOUS DAPPLED LIGHT....WHERE I WRITE

O the dappled Light of spring
    falling thru my window
across my Writing Place

has a thousand faces
    and they change minute by
minute

and

The Light never fails to remind
     remind us
of the Miracle of the Sun
     and all of Life

and

this makes a poet want to write...
     and sing

for

without the Light there would be
     no Us

( "....and there was darkness,
     darkness...upon the face of
        the deep...darkness....
                 darkness...")

O do you see,
         do you see
              do you know
that to be a You,
    you must have Light !!!!!!

and It should live
               in your Soul

Yes, and a poet once said:
      "rage, rage against the
    dying of the light."

Oh....that dappled light
     that visits my Writing Place
in the springtime---

I dread the wintertime, 

            when
      it will be gone.
--------------
BY MIL
29 APRIL 18

THE "DAPPLED LIGHT" IS BACK.....AND CALLS

O here on the MESA
     in the shadow of the Watermelons
at my writing window
      the white-wing doves are back
and asleep on the grain chunks
      just outside, five feet away
and paying no attention to me...
     their  feathers puffed out
for warmth...necks pulled in--
     and they're dozing....
How quaint and homey!

It is now Spring here---plus twenty
     give or take, and the nights
are one-quilt or one dog-lesser...
        and the "Dappled Light"
which comes in to my writing table
      is back...and is never
the same---one day to the next

The Sun sees to that as it climbs
      higher headed north...

The robins are hopping all ever
      our front lawn...one is
seen even in the bush outside
     my window, and
sometimes I think they are
              loco--for
there are no worms high up...

It is past crocus-time here, and
     BE has done her
favorite thing, finding plenty of
      daffodils to purchase
and disburse to friends---
    and someone brought tulips,
yellow ones---to us
     and I study these
marvelous flowers......and worship...

It would take pages of verse
     to tell you of the beauty and
wonders of spring
      as I sit here and ponder
the gifts we have in life,
    all around us...

The dappled light called to me
     today, as it always does---
"It's  Spring again...and Time to write
     once more..."

           

        O,  it's the light...THE LIGHT.
---------
MIL
11APRIL 2018