Deep inside
The soil grew
The smallest bud
With heart as true
This time was not
For show and tell
This time there’d be
No magic spell
No fancy bloom
Distracting eyes
From her spirit
Hear its cries!
A connection was
Now what she sought
Dismissiveness
Was what she fought
There are no petals
Worth a voice
To be ignored
Left her no choice
A little sun
And she will sprout
Even in
The thinnest grout
Inspired by Patrick Jennings Petals on the Ground
Back in my prime
When young and spry
I used to rock
A fierce cat eye
Eventually
There came a day
Old Father Time
Would make me pay
Where used to be
A single line
Now smudgy mess
Like I’ve been cryin’
And now alas
It spreads and grows
Resembling
The feet of crows
(Imagine this being recited in the voice of Vincent Price)
Oh this war of constant wage
To fight my now expanding gauge,
Game on! For now I’ll call your bluff
To rid myself this extra stuff,
Be gone! My ever increasing girth
That aims to take away my mirth,
No swan would have this muffin top
Did I just hear a button pop?
Come on! This salad has no taste
I’d BETTER get a smaller waist,
For all my trouble, win the prize
I will NOT buy a larger size,
My friends suggest I try to juice
So once again my waistband’s loose,
And when I CAN get in these pants
I’ll do my little happy dance
What tragic slip
Has caused my eyebrows to migrate
To my upper lip?
Menru is a word I created for poetry meant to vent my frustration over the current changes in my landscape.
First you flash my skin
Burning, sweaty, puddle of tears
Then you leave me cold
Estrogen, you fickle whore
You are not to be trusted
In response to CARPE DIEM HAIKU KAI: Carpe Diem Time Glass #34, “juxtaposition”
Dancing Echoes 
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