My Archived Poetry Blog With 3,750 poems
My dog Bo has a sixth sense.
He sees what I cannot see
When he wags his tail
At something in the air
And acts as if petted.
I could only see what he saw
When I saw it clearly in a dream.
He saw my angelic, dead sister
Come down from the heavens,
A halo around her head,
To bless and protect both of us,
A guardian angel from above.
Bob Boyd
The birds no longer sing in the tree
Squirrels no longer frolic in it
Leaves have abandoned it
Nobody sits under it
Like an old person
It is withering and dying
Soon it will be dismembered
And carted away
Without any tears
Without a wake
A once beautiful tree
Bursting with life
Nevermore
Gone evermore
Bob Boyd
An old weather worn statue of the Virgin Mary
Stands in their backyard unattended,
Solitary with no saints there as friends,
I wonder if that statue is infused with Mary.
If so, is she sending prayers to heaven
For the good of them and the world?
Or is that statue of the Virgin Mary
Merely an old statue and nothing more.
Or is that life size replication of Mary
Like a backyard shrine fortifying their faith?
If so, I believe there’s some Godly good in that.
Bob Boyd
My girlfriend left
For another guy
My cat ran away
My dog died
My car broke down
I got laid off
From my job
Of twenty years
My doctor says
I’ve got cancer
And there is a
Monsoon outside
Bob Boyd
I’m leaving she said
I said okay
She said you’re not going to try to stop me
I said no you’re like a free agent
She said you’re not going to beg me to stay
I said I’m too proud to beg and too respectful
To try to talk you out of leaving
Baffled she decided to give us another chance
She decided to stay
Unbaffled I decided to leave
Bob Boyd
Kings and Queens
Princesses and Princes
Knights and Ladies
Kingdoms and Fiefdoms
Castles and Moats
O how I love Medieval History
Battles and Conquests
Bows drawn
Swords clanging
Knives stabbing
Lances piercing
Thousands slain
Massive carnage
Ungoverned bloodshed
O how I hate how bloody it was
Bob Boyd
She always used the expression smart as a whip
To describe people she deemed intelligent.
He hated that expression; it made no sense.
The only connection with smart to a whip
Was when your body smarted when it whipped you.
She never liked it when he said a person was cool
As if a temperature meant someone extra special.
They never told each other about those dislikes,
Their love more important than insignificant issues.
Bob Boyd
All she wanted was peace and harmony.
All he wanted was trouble and discord.
They tried to keep their relationship together
For three grating and insane years
Until they drove each other crazy,
Till their doctors prescribed them pills to
Medicate their minds and relationship ills.
Miraculously after that they lived happily ever after.
Bob Boyd
She liked watching the birds at her birdfeeder
Fluttering about the feeder seeking seeds
Until rogue squirrels scared the birds away
And ate all the birdseed and angered her.
Half crazy from the get go, she screamed
And charged the marauding squirrels,
Tripped and fell on her angry face.
The fall brought her to sane senses.
She bought a squirrel proof bird feeder.
And graciously fed the squirrels corn,
A satisfying compromise for each and all.
Bob Boyd
She said she knew me in a former life
Inwardly I scoffed at that
Another crazy
Why always me
I should have known
By the way she dressed
Like a neo hippie
Or a white witch
Though she was beautiful
I couldn’t do crazy
Did crazy too many times
Never worked out
I became crazy too
From the bizarre nonsense
And scatterbrained beliefs
But when she touched my hand
My mind reeled back to former lives
Like watching them in a movie
I saw she had been my wife
In the High Middle Ages, 1662
Bob Boyd