Enjoying a Sunday in the Sun
On a Sunday afternoon,
I watch a flower by the name of Camelia
Open fully in the summer heat,
This occurs after a gently falling rain,
A white collared sparrow sings from a wire
High above me,
I return to my reading material
To ponder and think ~Jeanette E. Cook ©2017
At Thirteen, my mind
Knowing everyone has some secrets
Hidden that never get told,
As I ponder about giving up my Barbie doll collection,
Thinking about pretty floral dresses for the next
As we visit the village drugstore together
for penny-candy stuffed inside brown paper bags,
And watch various grown-ups collect bottled medicine,
I know changes are around our corner,
As the news reporter talks about a woman
Jumping off a local bridge to her death,
And some of our daddies dying at war,
And I dream of fun gatherings with my close friends
To block out the numbing pain
Of our societies’ decisions
In the midst of timing and transformations. —J. E. Cook (C)2017
Nature’s Unique Giving to Our World
To examine it closely takes time and patience
To find a bushtit or a fly hiding under a leaf
With its eggs as a spider looks for them.
Dinner is served by the unnoting as it flies
Random occurrences a coyote stealing
Chickens from a neighbor’s yard at night.
Passing an open window in early morning
As the mourning-dove perches in the fragrant
Lilac tree by the potting shed,
She sings to the lonely.
Rats eating from the trash piled high against
A decaying building as a birdfeeder is torn apart
By a passing squirrel,
Baby spotted-owls waiting for their mother to
Return with their evening meal in her beak.
A turtle returns slowly to the water’s edge
As a boat leaves an island for home.
A man sits inside a rowboat watching a duck
Dip into the water in front of him.
Connotations gathered on a Sunday morning
From the porch of an old maid as she watches
The birds fly by,
To a river surrounded by trees.
A drainage ditch serves as a water hole for the passing
Where are the red-eyed vireos? Have they left for better
On Saturday night, a beggar sits on a wooden bench
Watching and listening,
He hears some noise coming from the distant swamps,
Then, someone asks “where are you headed?”
Some fellow stops to tell him about an owl found inside
A rusty tub, he knows him from the café up the street
Where he often brings him a fresh cup of coffee with
A cream doughnut every morning,
Baby bats fly high above them as they continue their
Exchange of words on that wood bench
Only a few feet apart.
A hawk eyes those black babies from a tree across the street
Bordering the long muddy alley by the Victorian inn,
The rattlesnake he had for breakfast long gone.
A distant windmill makes a suitable nesting site,
There are cobwebs, moss, and hair in the muddy nest
Lichens cover this rusted metal frame,
Feathers fall to the ground as the slow rotation moves the
An old man twists his white mustache and he watches for
The returning momma cat from his seat on the sagging peeling
She is a female beauty with long tiger hair,
All allegories in time and many chapters on glorious reflection.
J.E. Cook ©2017
A Poem by Josie E. Cook M. A.
My Tribute to the poet, William Jay Smith, an American poet. Spring and the flowers with the sound of birds.
“Did anything ever sing to Emily and Charlotte on the moors above Haworth?”
The white and purple violets I left last night on the patio,
To the best of my knowledge, are out there still,
And will be there until I remove them or they die.
And will be there as long as I think that I
Can throw the sliding doors open on our world,
A touch of the violet color in the tail of my eyes;
As long as I think I see, past the Maple leaves green-growing,
Cars and trucks moving down our street, ever flowing,
Fulfillment is in the thoughts so ongoing,
Fulfillment in the sight upon sight responding,
To the sound of the sound of small birds flying by,
In life as life gives, and in death as it arrives.
Life’s Holiday Circumstances
A Poem by Josie E. Cook M. A.
I wrote this poem as a tribute to the work of Henri Coulette, poet and teacher. These are my thoughts and memories put down like he did his when he wrote his poetry.
During a holiday gathering with friends and family
Watching the people arrive is always
Full of endless surprises,
Frequent laughter fills the big living room and it mingles with the
Youngsters’ running, chasing and bickering over toys.
How do we cope with the individual thoughts, various
conversations and background confusion as the area fills up?
People on-time and people arriving late
This creates an adjustment needed in the planned dinner
I always try to be on time
Though, there are many times I arrive a little tardy
This nags at me as I walk through the front door
Then, I realize that I am not the only one
Rushing to get there.
As I walk in with loads of required baggage
Small children run to meet me with
Excited tight hugs and many dewy kisses
This puts me at ease
It is the reward for being there.
Even though, these social holiday gatherings
And scheduled festivities
Are stressful to prepare for and to attend
I’m always glad that I made the effort
To attend. –J. E. Cook ©2017