Under the Fan Palm

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Under the Fan Palm Page 4

by Richard George

as return

  On hours of practice of their game

  And effort spent

  To be the model from whom others learn.

  Then praise the young men well;

  Sing songs of victory for them,

  Let the music swell

  To celebrate their pride

  In doing well the task they deem

  Important; soon they’ll be too old

  To be so occupied.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Bring Me My Beer

  Bring me my beer,

  My throat is parched

  And burns as on fire.

  Mere wine’s not enough

  It’s sweet, not bitter; to slake

  My thirst I need the hops

  And golden fluid to make

  My throat an open passage

  For food. Please bring me beer

  Lest I die of thirst. This message

  I send to the kitchens,

  I need my beer, por favor.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Unwelcome Guests

  We cooked and baked ahead.

  We welcomed guests

  To celebrate

  A holiday feast.

  They came with others,

  Who ate

  Enough leftovers

  To feed us several days.

  They came early, left late,

  And took

  Some things we kept,

  Treasured mementoes from those

  Who died in older days.

  Small things

  That brought us comfort;

  This left us most irate.

  We wished for them

  A fate

  Dreadful and dark,

  For ruining our fete.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Music Boxes

  The tinkling music spills

  Across the room recalling times

  When she was here to hear

  These metal prongs make their chimes

  Of songs so often sung

  The words are part of me always.

  The lady comes soon to take

  These toys my mother loved away.

  I shall grieve their going,

  These further reminders of she

  Who taught me to sing along

  With the songs her music boxes played.

  I hope they go to one

  Who loves their quaint construction and songs

  As much as Mother did.

  In such a place they truly belong.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Day Lilies

  Day lilies bloom in parking lots

  To welcome March with nine-cupped blooms.

  The daffodils are drooping now,

  Their February work completed,

  And in the summer’s anterooms

  The roses wait to bud and blow

  With other summer flowers. The lilies

  And zinnias flourish in the heat

  Of summer sun and hot blue skies.

  Celebrate these hardy plants

  That decorate our yards with color.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  The Robin

  I hear a robin

  In a tree outside my house

  Chirping a welcome

  To coming spring and summer

  And autumn following.

  It is cold today

  Not weather for red robins

  To sing a spring song.

  The days will warm and the birds

  Will build their nests and lay eggs

  Whose blue is a hue

  Often cited in fashions.

  My robin is singing;

  My old heart gladdens when I

  My cheery bird sing its song.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  The Ladies Took Tea

  The ladies took tea one afternoon.

  They chattered about their husbands’ faults.

  One man refused to dance the waltz,

  Another scorned the lover’s moon

  That some nights rolled across the sky,

  Another had affairs with many

  Another spent their every penny

  On wine and song or getting high.

  No lady there was satisfied

  With him she married in a haze

  Of romance in her younger days

  When she became his lovely bride.

  Each pledged to file for divorce next week

  And eschew to marry another man

  Not even were he a clergyman

  Some dead wife taught to softly speak.

  Then vowed they each to take a wife

  If ever they wed again. No boy

  Could ever bring them married joy;

  They vowed boys only brought them strife.

  And so, like Sappho, each will have

  Romances with women only; none

  Will take a man to be her one

  From wedding day to final grave.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Poets of Old

  The poets of old

  Scribbled rhymes I’m told

  That spoke of passions

  To follow fashions

  Their times demanded.

  In lines most candid

  They oft wrote verses

  And sometimes curses

  On faithless lovers

  Whose genes were rovers.

  Others sang praises

  For all love’s phases.

  The poets now are dust;

  The lovers too, I trust;

  And now I in turn

  Write down my concern

  And like the old chaps

  Folk notice, perhaps.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Spring Equinox

  Columbine blue and cool

  Under aspen growing tall.

  Lilacs bloom purple and mauve

  Flower spikes and produce

  Later seeds that won’t grow

  Bushes often. When the days

  Grew more hot, irises

  Burst from old rhizome roots

  Bright with hues some god made.

  Zinnias like the heat

  Flourishing in summertime.

  Peonies like the sun

  Glads as well prospered then.

  On this day when spring starts

  I recall blooms that made

  My heart glad. Spring comes now

  I await summer blooms

  Brightly hued as they were

  When I first bloomed myself.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Inspired by Horace

  You know the sailing ship

  On the waves of the sea

  That crash on the shores

  That threaten shipwreck

  On their sands

  Before they come to port,

  The ships with painted eyes

  As men’s guards on the waves.

  They hoist sails and run

  Before the wind

  Defying the storms

  That rage across the ocean.

  Will none play songs to soothe

  Old Poseidon’s distress

  That heaves the waves

  And roils the sea

  With crashing foam?

  Will no priestess sacrifice

  A fatted lamb to appease

  The god’s anger and rage?

  Can anyone

  Placate the god

  Or bring the calm?

  Perhaps no human can.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Waiting for Night

  I wait for night to shroud the land.

  The fog will hide away the stars.

  The weary day will reach its end.

  The moon is held by mist-born bars.

  Blue skies return after they rest.

  The fog will hide away the
stars.

  I know the cloaking night won’t last.

  The day will come bringing the sun.

  Blue skies return after they rest.

  When dawn declares the night is done

  And rolls the moon and stars away

  The day will come bringing the sun.

  The azure sky is on display

  As bit by bit the dawn comes out

  And rolls the moon and stars away.

  The dying sun’s in full retreat.

  I long for night to shroud the land.

  I know that if I’m patient and wait

  The weary day will reach its end.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Shadorma

  Born in Spain,

  The form shadorma,

  Syllabic

  Poetry

  Constrained in strictly numbered

  Syllables per line,

  Challenges

  The poet to write

  His verses

  Bound by rules

  Foreign to English poets

  Who write their verses

  In meters

  Adopted of old

  By Chaucer

  And Shakespeare

  For tales and plays most revered

  By English speakers.

  Six lines long

  With limited space

  For stanzas

  To explore

  The imagery and music

  Of older verse forms.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  The Heart Can Be Dark

  The darkness of hearts

  Is a lore we all know

  In the folkways of men

  And the lore of science.

  It’s recorded and marked

  By the many who track

  The follies of folk.

  In the dark of the heart

  Are the hidden opinions

  That will sway his behavior

  Unobserved by himself.

  The heart can be dark

  And forbidding indeed.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  The Dying Katydid

  The sea wind blows the mist

  Over the surf and sand

  That bind the ocean’s coast

  And mark the start of land.

  The heavy clouds have hid

  The fiery face of the sun.

  And tricked a katydid

  Into thinking night’s begun.

  Be wary, bug; the rules

  Of weather do not yield

  In mercy for insect fools

  That stay in a sodden field.

  Drowned insects have no care,

  It’s true. They have no need

  To forage food or share

  Flowers with their brood.

  Like all dead things they lie

  As corpses ‘til they decay.

  As do all those who die

  Drowned on a rainy day.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Pelargoniums

  My pelargoniums are pink and red.

  My garden has no white or purple ones.

  Other gardens may have gold instead,

  Or silver blooms, or those as black as sins

  Committed by fallen angels and soiled doves

  Who walk the city streets in search of trade.

  My pelargoniums have simple leaves

  Of green and flourish well in partial shade.

  On cloudy days their brilliance warms my soul

  With memories of summer days of leisure

  When I was free a while from attending school

  And had sufficient time to find my pleasure

  In seeing blooms of red and pink unfold

  On verdant shrubs resplendent to behold.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  My Pets

  One dog has commandeered my

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