Poetry Blog by Cynthia Buell Thomas
Tom on I Hope There Is A Heaven For That Pretty Pink Dress (9 days ago)
M.C. Newberry on I Hope There Is A Heaven For That Pretty Pink Dress (9 days ago)
Cynthia Buell Thomas on I Hope There Is A Heaven For That Pretty Pink Dress (10 days ago)
I so remember - twelve years old -
Running home with my Math paper
99% in bold red across the top.
Racing full tilt to show my mother
How well I had done.
Teacher had been full of smiles.
I burst through the door.
'Mummy! Mummy! Look what I did!
She was at the sink peeling potatoes.
She turned, wiping her hands in her apron.
'Well! And w...
Thursday 13th June 2019 4:55 pm
(A narrative poem, and long, very long.)
When I was thirteen, I lived in a small village
With my parents and three younger sisters
On the outskirts of a university city in Canada -
Queen's, in Kingston, at the junction of Lake Ontario
And the gorgeous, island-strewn St. Lawrence River.
In our sheltered bay the shoreline was beautiful
And the woods, the fields, the sky an...
Saturday 8th June 2019 12:35 pm
One year, in Bermuda, I was supply teaching
An Infants' Class, four and five-year-olds
Bright, eager, trusting children.
Christmas was just two weeks away.
We were having an 'Art Activity'
Tearing, cutting, biting paper to bits
To make a personal collage of 'Christmas'
On the general idea:
'How does Christmas make you FEEL - in COLOUR!'
It was a bold undertaking, and t...
Friday 24th May 2019 3:05 pm
'Never step on a cow pat because it looks hard.
It might be just crusty with poo-soup inside.'
I warned my younger sister
As we crossed Grandpa's pasture.
She scowled, and ran ahead
Looking back with disdain.
'You think you know everything!
'I TOLD you!
I'm NOT laughing!'
And I really wasn't.
She expected me to clean her up.
Thursday 16th May 2019 7:12 pm
When my grandson was four
And often in my care,
One fine spring afternoon
We went to the nearby park
For play on the swings, the bars, the whirligig -
To enjoy the warm sunshine
And our own company.
He was gungho about his tricycle
And pedalled along the pavement
At risk to life and limb
Coming to an abrupt halt at the corners,
Respectful of 'rules'
Saturday 11th May 2019 2:23 pm
'Never climb on the steel railing', Mummy said
Every time we went to the park.
'You might slip through.
The cement slope is steep.
The river is deep and it runs fast.'
I understood, and I obeyed.
Seven years old is savvy.
One morning Mummy was busy with babies
So my younger sister and I went to the park alone
Following the familiar streets down to the river.
Friday 3rd May 2019 12:02 pm
One day I shared a 'chemo session'
With a gentleman and a nurse's station.
We two patients were privileged to have beds
Facing each other across the small room.
The chap had his wife by his side as I had my husband
Both carers calm and solicitous, totally supportive.
His wife set up a small station by her chair
Holding a tray of assorted 'goodies' and drinks
Monday 29th April 2019 3:49 pm
'Last chemo session! Ring the bell three times!'
Said the sign on the wall beside the big, metal hub.
I had hesitated, but a smiling attendant
A gentleman, a very gentle man from front desk
Hopped it to the kitchen
And returned with two, huge, metal spoons.
He pressed them into my hand. 'Go for it!'
And I struck the silver gong three times:
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Wednesday 17th April 2019 4:27 pm
The spring afternoon was lazy and warm
Full of late sunshine golden and beckoning.
Impulsively I slapped on my trainers
And took off with delight
For a stroll up the quiet road
Past the retirement home and the bulky farm
Where cows and horses grazed in succulent fields
Abutting marshlands further inland.
On my way back refreshed and relaxed
Friday 22nd March 2019 4:02 pm
From my mid-teens
If something insulted my sensibilities
Anything – in any context – any medium -
My immediate reaction
With an indignant puff was:
HOLY HOT HANNIBALEM!
Which ejaculation -
Always so satisfying flying past my teeth
My tongue relishing alliteration -
Allowed my brain to catch up with my mouth
Levelling the field
For better appreciation
Of a vi...
Saturday 16th March 2019 2:15 pm
The spoken word
According to precise plan
Is not to be trusted.
Oration is a power play
A skilled practice
Designed first to provoke
And then to persuade.
It can short circuit sense
Apart from language chosen
To make best point,
The power of performance
Delivers to a prescribed end.
Plays our senses
Sunday 10th March 2019 3:35 pm
One lovely day last summer
I was stroking along my street
Well content with the sun's deep warmth
The soaring height of our shading trees
And the thick growth of hedges
Flush to the walls beside the pavement
Often spilling into my footsteps.
As I eased pace to enter my complex
Suddenly, out of the dense bushes
Leapt a growling ANIMAL -
Arms extended with curved c...
Sunday 3rd March 2019 2:52 pm
'What a beautiful morning!'
From my open window upon the Sunday street
Growth is stirring everywhere -
Daffodils and crocuses in the tree roots;
Tight little buds on tender twigs;
Grass curling up for first cutting.
And my mind flies out into spring sunshine
Like a soaring bird.
The tree is inherent in the thumping chestnut.
The scarlet maple in the saili...
Monday 25th February 2019 11:45 am
He stomped into the small lounge
And dropped his school kit on the floor
Beside the tutoring table
With a thump.
He eyed the paper doily with its apple juice
And the silver muffin cup
Glinting with bright SKITTLES.
Without a word he sat down
Took a sip of juice and licked his lips.
He toyed with choosing the best colour
For first burst of pre-le...
Tuesday 29th January 2019 5:42 pm
Give me a simple smile
Upon our meeting,
That ageless, kind propriety
It takes such little steps
To be a friend
If you care about the signals
That you send.
I'm not asking for a taste
Of toast and tea,
Just a meeting of the eyes -
You see me.
I will not push myself
Into your sphere.
I shall treasure the connection
We have her...
Friday 25th January 2019 12:21 pm
There is a hill in Bermuda
Very high and steep
With a narrow road from top to bottom
That twists like a preying python.
'Ass Hill' they called it.
And I fully agreed:
You would be a total ass
To negotiate it if you didn't have to
At a mere creep
Praying for reliable brakes
And no traffic from the opposite direction.
I called it Ass Hill for years
Wednesday 9th January 2019 3:42 pm