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Bethany Sallis on SPIKE-LIKE
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the poor boy that had no Christmas

 

 

the poor boy that had no Christmas

 

a young boy lived in the country

looked forward to Christmas

a special time when a tree was cut

and strings of popcorn were hung

 

the family had little money

but the boy always received

at least a present or two

from Santa Clause when he

and his reindeers flew by on

Christmas Eve

 

the young boy’s best fr...

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santapoor boygifts

the tattered old man on Christmas Eve

the tattered old man on Christmas Eve

 

 

snow was falling hard

as the old man struggled

through the deep drifts

on the country road

 

light shone from a

a farmhouse window

the old man smiled seeing the glow

 

it was a candle

the widowed mother had placed there

nightly since last Christmas Eve

 

a year ago

a man was found

frozen along this s...

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angleold manold housekidschristmas evesnowlight in window

waiting for the first snowflakes

waiting for the first snowflakes

 

leaves

red, yellow, and orange

have long since gone

 

grass has turned brown

 

frost has covered the land

 

afternoon sun is low

in the southern sky

 

geese have flown

in the blue heavens

south for winter food

 

squirrels gathered

nuts and stored

them in their nest high in the trees

 

next-door nei...

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fantasyfireplacesnowthoughts

the old kitchen tin box

the old kitchen tin box

 

the old kitchen tin box

of matches

brings back fond memories

 

it hung on the wall

above mama’s stove

 

the matches were used

for many things

 

to light the stove to cook

the family meals

 

to ignite the oil lamps

at night to light the house

 

to break and splinter

to make a toothpick

 

to light the wood burni...

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hutskidsmatchesoil lampstrash burner

poet's dilemma

poet's dilemma

 

staring at a white sheet of paper

can be frightening to a writer

or it can bring joy

that is if the words start to flow

 

okay, I am staring

 

where are the words

fingers long to write

come on words

materialize

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drypoemspoet's problemswriters

four walls

 

four walls

 

lying

thinking in the dark

 

four walls do not

make a room

 

a room needs a floor

and ceiling

 

four walls

a ceiling

and a floor

 

four walls with no door

can keep others out

but keep you in

 

a door

an invitation in

or

an exit out

 

try to decide

which is best

 

door or

no door

 

or roll ov...

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dreamsroomsleep

someone's forgotten cottage

someone’s forgotten cottage

 

 

walking in the woods

I discovered

an old deserted cottage

 

weeds and thicket grew all around

the windows were gone

old curtains blew in the

breeze seeming to enjoy their

almost freedom

 

old chairs sitting in front

of the cottage wasting away

in the rain sun and snow

 

if I look hard enough might

I get a glimpse...

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abandonedcottageforgottenwoods

woods filled with snow

woods filled with snow

 

 

I walked through woods

as they filled with snow

a winters walk to fill my lungs

with cold december chill

 

I came to a small rise

one that I did not know

where did this hill come from

how was I unaware

 

I looked for familiar sightings

but found none

nothing seemed identifiable

 

I walked to the edge of the hill

and p...

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churchdreamsmysterypoemsnow

a pair of old cowboy boots

a pair of old cowboy boots (1950s)

 

 

Kenny and I always wanted

a pair of cowboy boots

 

there was no money for such

a childish wish

 

one day walking

in the woods

we stumbled upon a trash dump

 

someone richer than us

had discarded what

we considered treasures

 

we found old comic books

an old alarm clock

that worked, once we banged

it ...

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cowboy bootsimaginationkidstreasureswoods

thinking of robert frost

 

thinking of a poet

 

 

in a new england village

an old man wandered

the road towards me

thick crop of frosted hair

 

snowflakes started to fall

 

he shuffled along

looking here

looking there

 

a flight of geese

flew in a perfect V pattern

south

 

he watched them disappear

then walked

towards me slowly

a bit confused

 

hello ...

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new englandpoetryrobert frostsnoewoods

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