Tag Archives: limerick

“feels like Sunday”

Written for: The Twiglets #238 – “feels like Sunday” Carvel should have their 2-for-1 sundaes on Sundays not Wednesdays. Shelves stocked with school supplies brings to mind how I hated Sunday nights. studies painting Saturday afternoon Sunday in the Park … Continue reading

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“a wooden puppet”

Written for: The Twiglets #237 – “a wooden puppet” On the dance floor he resembled a wooden puppet. Children’s mouths gaped open, as the wooden puppet’s nose began to grow. little boy sketching his pencil draws sharp angles a wooden … Continue reading

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“the last word”

Written for: The Twiglets #236 – “the last word” Once we had a Bassett hound, low to the ground with stubborn, steadfast paws. Whenever he passed another dog, both would bark at each other, but, Walter always had to have … Continue reading

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“folded paper”

Written for: The Twiglets #235 – “folded paper” For me, an art is the ability to fold an open map. Notes of brightly colored folded papers strewn about my bag–Post-It Parade floats down serene lake slight ripple in the mast … Continue reading

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“god’s white hair”

Written for: The Twiglets #234 – “god’s white hair” Pure white ocean waves– snowy hair of a god I do not have the white hair of a god, said the hare. Better get new glasses. crowd of clouds sails by … Continue reading

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“like fingerprints”

Written for: The Twiglets #233 – like fingerprints child draws in colorful fingerprints He proclaimed his innocence until his fingerprints were lifted from the murder weapon. like crescent moons miniature in size new baby’s prints Impeccably dressed, breath of mint … Continue reading

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“no rope”

Written for: The Twiglets #230 – “no rope” I’d hang myself but I have no rope. As a child I loved jumprope; thickness of the cord gave heft when turned. No jumprope like that now. he spots the calf frolicking … Continue reading

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“cupped hands”

Written for: The Twiglets #229 – cupped hands She cups her hands to gather Spring showers. Cupped hands gather no moss. sits at the stream making small waves in water with cupped hands There was a man born with strange … Continue reading

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“deranged silence”

Written for: The Twiglets #228 – “deranged silence” On a pitch black road the car stutters, shakes to a stop. Silence ensues. She panics into a state of derangement. They called him deranged because he was silent. He had nothing … Continue reading

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“silent, like sleep”

Written for: The Twiglets #227 – silent, like sleep Bedroom seemed silent, we thought he was asleep, ’til he snorted like a tea kettle. Only the sleep of the dead is silent. she sleeps soundly no expression on her face … Continue reading

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