30 Poems in 30 Days

30 poems in 30 days seemed an impossible goal
Too many words too many ideas necessary
To generate 30 separate works completely unique
While also working and living and watching
(Losing) baseball games but one day at a time
Works for many things and writing poems
Apparently is a thing that works one day
At a time each day a new idea thought spark
Excellent bucolic view to prompt the flow of
Stanzas or simply splendid symmetrical words
That fit together like Legos clicking into place
Fitting a theme or forming a story out of a single
Idea or thought when finished a circle back to the
Purity of the origin but with a twist unexpected
Each poem a surprise the 30 a treasure forever

Billowy Dabs

Surreal white puff clouds float on the cerulean sky
Billowy dabs painted on crystal clear blue yonder
Create suspended snowy cotton balls awakening a
Dreamlike whimsy hypnotic confusion disoriented stares

This sky cannot be real with its fanciful puffiness and
Bogus sky blue hue like a heaven imagined in glorifying
Stories but no, it’s a normal April day full of regular troubles
Like any other workday christened with wondrous beauty

Phobia Forged

Phobia forges an unapproachable rim
The fear of heights first emerged at the Spectrum
1968 family outing to see Peggy Fleming’s elegance
And beauty in pale green chiffon gliding to Hey Jude

Ten years old, embarrassingly crawled up the stairs to our row
My dad both angry and kind walked me down to the concourse
Racing heart calming coke and popcorn bribing a smile
World Trade center years later reluctant to go to roof

Young cousin enthused the edge is so far no worry of fear
Riding the escalator the observation area open, broad
Expansive and wide terror enveloped no way down
Without walking the entire square of the roof hand

Over hand making people move to hold the thin life line
wire 50 feet from the edge still filled with choking fear
I love the Grand Canyon but the edge is the enemy
Looking out at the beauty never turn your back

Don’t get too close my loved ones I’ll have to look away
Anchored in a rocking chair looking out at the beauty
Where did this phobia come from I hate its power
Yosemite does this hike have narrow overlooks to avoid?

Bluest Blossom

Bluest of blue periwinkle perfectly petaled blossom
Rich rich amethyst jewel polka dot speckle center
Sitting solo stretching tall, sown deep in parsley leaf filled
Flowerpot 5 stories up, luxuriating on expansive Brooklyn botany
Love balcony, pink blooms, apple blossoms, sea grasses surround,
Enrich delicate elegance. elevate the bluest blue above all flora
Dazzling graceful violet-blue eyed gaze magnet unshakable

Statue’s View

New York prods thoughts of journeys past
Red Hook view recalls long ago shipboard glimpse
Immigrants’ fears, hopes welcomed, tired embraced
New land heartfelt dreams melting blending fusing

Grandparents poor, America bound Atlantic voyages
The Dream’s greeting, arms embracing Swedish Okkie
Scottish Granddad’s solitary arrival leaving wife
Baby aunt and uncle until brogues ingrain

Eight years hammering boards building foundation
Grandmom’s journey finally to join, US born new baby (dad)
The Statue’s legacy warming encircling nourishing the yearning
To be free long ago, the ideal, a memory of yesterday’s ethos

New Leaf’s Dance

Verdant virgin babies form lacy filigree patterns
Newborn leaves bathe in glistening dewy post-partum shades
Avocado, mint, tea green fresh growth hues
Stretching toward warmth, craning toward light

Wonder of the new and fledgling floods senses untested
Ancient course leather peaks through infant veils
Grudgingly awakened bark irritably tolerates fresh buds
Aged crust squelches bloom’s excitement at all that’s new

Cynical antique skin resists and squirms at youth’s glee
Yet, brave youthful promise rejects craggy elderly gloom
Dancing in glimmering beams, absorbing the sun’s tattoo
Nature’s stamp of life and light fuels bantling bliss