The Sixteenth Birthday

The old home movie jittered a bit sometimes

But, you could see her walk in the room

The birthday girl in all of her finery

Thinking she owned the world and she did

Three-inch pointy-toed heels and a dark pink dress

Not a hair out of place on her head

The brightness of the film made her likeness fade

But, she had left her impression

Spoiled by two parents who loved her more than life

She was smug and still shy all at once

It was her birthday and she was sweet sixteen

No one ever looked better, she thought

The film flutters again and we see her face

Smiling at her adoring family

This sixteen-year old girl was so very lucky

Everyone understood her so well

It’s quite an experience to see yourself

The way you were and how you acted

Funny, I don’t even remember the pink dress

Just the huge curlers for that hairdo

I sit and watch this film over and over

Wondering about the day and times

Crying over the parents who looked so grand

I’m that girl again .. and, still .. sixteen

@Copyright Scarlet Rhymes - The above and all poems and pictures on this blog cannot be copied and used on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

The Economy is bad. . or, is it?

The economy is in a tailspin
Or, maybe it’s not so bad
This recession is really quite normal
Or, the worst we’ve ever had

I should buy stock while the price is so low
Or, sit on my mattress filled green
Plan now to spend less for the holidays
Or, order online like a queen!

I should take out a loan to buy a new house
But, no one will give me a loan
I shouldn’t fret ‘cause the gas price is down
But, it would be wise to stay home

Maybe I read too much in all of this
Or, perhaps I don’t read enough
Maybe I should trust all the pundits
Or, are they’re just calling my bluff?

Spend cash! It’s great for the economy!
Are there any lessons offered?
Go out for dinner to a fancy place
Stay home and micro some Stouffers

There are lots of boarded up factories
Coffee shops wherever you go
Where drones stand in line for over an hour
Paying big bucks for all that “joe”

Some say wait until we get a new Prez
Some say it doesn’t quite matter
Actually, I’m not sure what I should think
I’m leaning towards the latter

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this site cannot be reproduced onto the World Wide Web without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

AFTERNOONS WITH A HIPPIE

She wore a long skirt down to her ankles
I don’t recall her wearing shoes
She spoke of some man who loved a seagull
I had a parakeet named Spot

She kept hard candies in small crystal bowls
Offering me one everyday
When I tasted it, I cringed on green peas
No.. the taste was just like broccoli

She spoke of a green witch near New York City
Where the drummer’s beat was different
I thought of my next Halloween costume
As a witch I would be in black

She made tea from bark and leaves off of trees
Mama called her a flower child
And, said I shouldn’t eat or drink with her
I thought of my own tea party

To me she was just a strange old lady
Who was kind of weird and stuff
Folks said she’s a barren hippie
I thought she was from Chicago

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this site cannot be reproduced onto the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

The Purple Sweatshirt

I fell in love in a purple sweatshirt

When my life began to take flight

Trips to the beach and my favorite rock songs

Made everything really alright

I wore that shirt til it wasn’t purple

I could never throw it away

Not really thinking a lot about it

Or, all the lives that it portrayed

It was there when I needed it to be

I wore it for chores and to bed

Kind of like a habit I couldn’t break

My life spinning around each thread

Maybe it’s time to clean out my closet

Yet one last wearing wouldn’t hurt

The ups and downs of my life it has seen

Not bad for a tattered old shirt

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poems and pictures on this site cannot be posted on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

Write Myself An Email

sung to the tune of

I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter with apologies to lyricist Joe Young

I’m gonna sit right down and write myself an email

And, make believe it came from my bank!

I’m gonna write words oh so fine

Saying I hope that I don’t mind

That an error just discovered

Means my car loan will be covered!

I’m gonna grin and say

I hope that makes my day now

I’ll close with thanks for being me

I’m gonna sit right down and write myself an email

And, make believe it came from my bank

One more time!!!!

I’m gonna sit right down and write myself an email

And, make believe it came from my bank

I’m gonna write words oh so fine

Saying I hope that I don’t mind

That an error just discovered

Means my car loan will be covered

I’m gonna grin and say

I hope that makes my day now

I’ll close with thanks for being me

Oh yeah…..

I’m gonna sit right down and write myself an email

And, make believe it came from ….

Think I’ll include the home loan..

Make believe it came from …. my bank!

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this site cannot be reproduced on the world wide web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

A Flatlander's Happy Point

For a flatlander, this was my Mt. Everest
To climb a Smokey Mountain trail
Seen many times in the bright light of day
Carefully walking now at dusk

Reaching towards the spot called Happy Point
Where many a hiker had been
Looking down on the valley of fresh fog
Expertly painted clouds below

With flashlights in hand on a night mission
Happy Point was a step away
When over the mountain a bright light peeped
A rush to find the perfect spot

The full moon rose in all of its glory
Breathing stopped atop Happy Point
A name perfectly conceived and given
A place that will always be so

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - All poetry and pictures on this site cannot be copied and reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

Pop's Tampa Nuggets

It was not in the best of shape as he
Retrieved it from the desk drawer
Yet when he opened the box to show me
All that he had saved – he grinned

Bands were in the Tampa Nugget box he
Held firm with both his hands
Cigar bands from dozens of cigars he
Smoked over the days and years

He handed me a new catalog of great
Items that he could receive
All he had to do was mail in some of
Those bands to Tampa Nugget

As I child, I thought how lucky it was
To be Pop and get free gifts
I even offered to start smoking them
So that I could win something

Pop patted me on the head and told me
To get on outside and play
But, I lingered long enough to get a
Good look at that catalog

I think about that old box of cigar
Bands every once in awhile
Wondering what Pop bought over the years as
It got too full to close

The real truth is - Pop was a lot like
That ol’ box of cigar bands
Wishes and dreams were right there at his finger
Tips to do with as he pleased

Just maybe that box was filled with more than
I realized way back then
Shared grins and whispers with his granddaughter
Could have kept it more than full

@2008 Scarlet Rhymes - The above and all pictures and poetry on this site cannot be copied and duplicated on the World Wide Web without the written permission of the arthor/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

MAKING CENTS OF NO MONEY

I rubbed two dollars together
Trying to make some cents
Clearly this was not the best way
For my time to be spent

I stretched a twenty-dollar bill
Until it snapped in two
Does that mean I now have two tens?
Please help me hear won’t you?

I pinched a penny hard and fast
It hurt my fingers sew!
Maybe blood out of a turnip
Would be the way to go

Confusion over money now
How do I keep me sum?
Bills for gas that won’t ever last
Has turned my wallet numb

I think I’ll take up gardening
Grow rows of dollar weed
Then, no matter what else happens
I got my mouth to feed

@2008 Copyright Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this site cannot be copied onto the world wide web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

We'll Be Servin' Vittles

A small print ad in an urban paper
Announced a rural wedding
“Frank and Jane are marrying Friday night
Then, we’ll be serving vittles”

I smiled at the thought of Jed Clampett’s grin
As Grannie served possum stew
“It always tastes better the second day”
I can hear Jeb’s “eee-dawgies!”

Vittles is a word most folks don’t know
Except as “tender” cat food
But, to turn one down who offers vittles
Would be considered quite rude

From black-eyed peas to biscuits with honey
Throw in a ham hock or two
Fried chicken, corn bread and sweet potatoes
And, a table just for cakes!

Vittles warms your stomach and hugs your heart
Those in the know will sure grin
Watching you earn your vittles “braggin’ rights”
As you become one of them

Pull up a chair with Jed Clampett and me
There’s always room for one more
You’ll hear the stories of home-style cooking
That serves up much more than food

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poems and pictures on this blog cannot be reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

THE WIVES CEMETERY

Wandering down an old moss covered pathway
The trees bring the murmurs of the sea
Stories that are lost and yet linger on
Spoken in breezes and rustling leaves

Widows who were really never sure if they were
Wait on for their captain’s sweet return
To tell of the pirates and his near death
While his lover, the sea, calls him home

Weeks and months and the years of their whole lives
Shrouded in a sea of wonderment
No news ever came, was he lost at sea?
Or, were the seas’ charms stronger than hers?

The stories of all captains are buried here
Made up, expounded or tall dark truths
The wives wait on for word at the next high tide
Buried together yet all alone

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this blog cannot be duplicated on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

I'M A QUARTER

I’m a quarter and I’m a nothing
I use to be a big deal.. way back when
When I bought five people a soda pop
When I paid for a gallon of gas

Ah, life was good all those years ago
I would be a part of everything
“Got a quarter?” and, there I would be
People were always calling my name

‘Course, those were the ‘good ol’ days, weren’t they?
When me and my pals were popular
We paid a toll and bought a paper
And, we were much better than those dimes!

Now, I’m not good for much any more
I’m forced to hang out with other coins
No longer the independent one
Just part of a jingle of some change

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all pictures and poems on this Blog cannot be reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

POOR PAULETTE

Here’s the sad story of poor Paulette
Who was never really proud
If anyone looked twice at her
She would simply cry out loud

Sad about her poor pitiful life
And, if that isn’t enough
When her daddy wasn’t noticin’
She would sneak a pinch of snuff

She never had any friends at all
Who could put up with her mess?
Sobbin’ day and night for weeks
‘Cause she hated her new dress

She had herself a Pity Party
Invited a few from town
Cried as she made pimento cheese
I’m telling ya that girl was down

No one was there by three o’clock
Paulette had herself a fit
Pity Party’s are made for one
Poor Paulette didn’t know … that

@2008 Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this site cannot be reproduced on the world wide web or another other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecrek.com

THIS IS WHY I WRITE

To share my own thoughts of now
To tell of way back when
To even write of nothing
Fills my own special need

To touch someone with my words
To make them smile or cry
To help them find their own words
Makes my writing worthwhile

To send thoughts that encourage
To remind them of love
To race toward memories
After reading my rhyme

To reach their inner feelings
To make the thought shine through
To find a note that I did
Oh! This is why I write

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures
on this blog cannot bereproduced on the World Wide Web or any
other published form without the written permission of the
writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

The Empty Building

The eerie echoes of voices long since gone
Bounce around like the flash of fame
Once filled with minds who worked themselves to death
The notion of winning the game

Floor after floor of the nine to five’ers
Thought they’d be here until they died
Filled with joy that they brought home the dollars
Refueling their family’s pride

It has been said that the walls do have ears
Too bad they can no longer speak
No words of what was or what might have been
When the future turned to the bleak

A chill in this tall, human-less building
With the For Sale sign on the door
Tells the story as loud as you can hear
The world has changed forever more

@Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all pictures and poetry on this site cannot be reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

The Flim-Flam Man

He says all the right things and makes you smile
He's looking for help with hat in hand
Talks up the fact that he knows a few things
Asks for aid where others would not

Such lengthy conversations he offers up
It's tough not to appreciate his thoughts
He's done his homework as some would say
Knows the right heart-strings to tug gently

Who to trust in this ever-changing world?
Just because he said it's true, is it?
He even mentions a name that you know
A town and a road. He's good.

A door is opened and the deal is done
He gets what he wants and more
Scratching deep into the annals of time
Twisting words and making his own

Gone to take on the next grand prospect
With new words and dirty deeds
The smile of the strange will kill again
As he gathers his fool collection

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poems and pictures on this site cannot be copied and placed on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

Blur of Impressions

You don’t require much of me at all
I don’t need a brain
In fact, it’s perfectly acceptable
If I don’t even move

No searches deep into my morals
Just show up, you say
Then, I must feast on your banquet
Telling those who ask

You, in turn, leave your brand
Slogans of evil or fun
That will stick in my head so much
That I sing them often

Believing that what I say is true
Yet never thinking
I repeat because I heard it
You told me everything

There in that colorful box in my room
You spread society
I learn, repeat and come back for more
I have no useful brain

When will I ever wake up to find
There is a way to stop
I will move and be myself again

I can turn the TV off

@Copyright 2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poems and poetry on this page cannot be reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.net

Moonshine On The Dashboard

It’s not homemade in a still
It’s doesn’t have a kick
You’ll be wise to watch it, though
‘Cause it’ll be gone quick

It’ll take your breath away
When ya let it seep in
You’ll talk about it for days
And, bore all of your friends

Ya gotta git up early
I’m talkin’ before dawn
I’d hate to see ya miss it
Sunrise, it’ll be gone

Climb into your car real slow
And, watch it all begin
Ah! Moonshine on the dashboard
My celestial best friend!

@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poems and pictures on this site cannot be copied and used on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

THE LOVE AND THE LOSS

They are so easy to love and adore
Time spent together is grand
Watching every movement that they make
Helps you become a big fan

As time rolls along you see the bad times
But, that doesn’t change a thing
The fun they have every single day
Keeps your life on the upswing

Oh, there will be days when you can’t stand them
You try not to yell at all
But, it seems they do better when you yell
My my.. how love does enthrall

Then, one night, comes the ultimate test
Lives may never be the same
The love, the hate, the wonder of it all
When your team loses the game

@Copyright 2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poems and pictures on the blog cannot be reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

LET ME

Let me write better in this new year
Let me create a few smiles
Let me know that what I try to do
Reaches out over the miles

Let me find the gathering of words
Let me know how to say it
Let me send out the best of my best
So that my friends can weigh it

Let me improve just a little bit
Let me improve even more
Let me step up to a new challenge
It’s a small wish I implore

Let me attack this resolution
Let me be proud in the end
Let me write as I’m sure that I can
May this be a new year’s trend

@Copyright 2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all pictures and poetry on this blog cannot be copied and used on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhmyecreek.com

Mama's Fruit Cake

Mama made her fruit cake before Thanksgiving
Wrapped it in cheesecloth tight
Poured a shot of Four Roses whiskey over it
Just about every other night

There was more cooking from that liquor
Blending flavors inside the cake
Mama might forget to buy a present
That cake she would always make

All of her friends couldn’t wait to taste it
They knew it was awfully good
But, this cake was for the family’s Christmas
And, somehow they understood

Grandpa tried to get an early sample
Mama spied him from the hall
She shut the lid on the fruit cake tin
Grandpa got nothing at all

Finally, the big day had arrived
We’d get to taste this cake
Dad faked a drum roll on the counter
“Just cut it for goodness sake!”

Mama got out the plates and the forks
Proud Four Roses filled the air
She started to cut as we all watched
I heard a band play, I swear!

The taste of that cake lives on with me
A Christmas memory, you see
No, not many folks care for fruit cake
But, it is pure love to me

@Copyright 2007 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this site cannot be copied onto the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

A FLORIDA CHRISTMAS

I have never driven in snow
Or, held a snow shovel
If I had to do either
I’d be in big trouble

Not to mention all new clothes
Hmmm.. maybe that’s not bad
I would have to start from scratch
And, get rid of all I had

I’m a native Floridian
And, I like it down here
We don’t get stuck in the ice
Well, there was that one year!

I sit inside where it’s cool
Thanks to that big AC
And, call up my yankee friends
Don’t you wish you were me?

Dream of your white Christmas’s
I’ll watch the palm trees sway
As I sit outside smiling
On this warm Christmas Day

@Copyright 2007 Scarlets Rhymes The above and all poems and pictures on this blog cannot be reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

I Found Her In A Scrapbook

Dusty and overstuffed with memories
I carried it to the table
Carefully I opened it to her whole life
As a young girl so much in love

The theatre tickets and the receipts
Times that she cherished so much
Crushed corsages from a special evening
Ribbons with tears stains of her joy

She loved a man who was in the Army
I found some of his letters too
Page after page of what was so special
Match books and black and white pictures

Gorgeous in her form fitting dress and heels
She was the beauty that he loved
And, he was the one she always counted on
To make her laugh and hold her hand

There in overstuffed pages she lives on
Sharing her fun and hearts desire
The telegram saying he mailed her the ring
The pictures from the honeymoon

I smile through my own tears of sad and joy
What a treasure this book does hold
I found her in those old scrapbook pages
Well before I was ever born

@Copyright Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all pictures and poetry on this Blog cannot be copied and placed on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

My Thanksgiving Quandary

It’s not that I’m not thankful because I am
It’s not that I don’t like yams because I do
It’s not that I hate three-day weeks because I don’t
Here’s the quandary I’m facing here today

If you ask someone to explain Thanksgiving
They mention the pilgrims and how corn is maize
And, how their mother use to make the best stuffing,
The family gathering around and lots to eat

Food is the explanation for Thanksgiving
Whether it’s turkey or goose or ham or all three
Someone knows the best recipe to cook it
And, the best side dishes in the world for it

A holiday to celebrate overeating
We already do that every single day
We take a big holiday and change its name
Turkey Day is a day to celebrate food

I seem to remember when I was fifth grade
We dressed up like pilgrims and Indians
Yes, we called them that back then because who knew?
And, we sat down at a table and gave thanks

There was not a lot of food on this table
Some corn and berries and a bright orange pumpkin
Times were tough back then and they didn’t have food
They gave thanks for being alive and able

Think about it .. for being able… able to live
I think we’ve gotten away from that first meal
We should think about what we are thankful for
Not whether three meats and six vegetables are enough

@Copyright 2007 The above poem and all poetry and photos on this blog cannot be duplicated on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

Skillets and Their Uses

Not much can be said about skillets
That hasn’t already been said
They are good for fryin’ up chicken
And, can cook up a great cornbread.

Hattie Jo used her skillet different
Hittin’ Clyde up side of the head
If he stepped outta line he caught it
Clyde sometimes wishes he was dead

Hattie Jo don’t put up with a lot
Clyde never really understands
He goes out drinkin’ with all the guys
Hattie Jo sits with her fry pan!

You’d think after all the hittin’ years
Clyde’s mind would have been made right
Yet every week he does the same thing
Booze and poker on Saturday night

Now, don’t go thinkin’ bad about her
Hattie Jo sure loves her man Clyde
But, if he ain’t there to eat chicken
Clyde’s head is what else that gets fried

@2007 Copyright Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all pictures and poem on this Blog cannot be duplicated on the world wide web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at Scarlet@rhymecreek.com

SOMEBODY'S DEAD IN THERE

Out back of Johnny Enfinger’s house
His Daddy kept an old shed
Word was we should never go inside
Or we would find somebody dead

No one ever had to tell me twice
I was nearly scared to death
Just hearin’ him tell me to stay out
Dragged me down to my last breath

But, of course, someone took that dare
Thinkin’ there was nuthin’ to it
The Carmichael boys, Seth and Jake
Decided they would do it

The very next night they went out
And, found the old thing was locked
Seth went to the truck for a tool
Leaving Jake to face the shock

Jake peeked through a dirty window
And, shined his flashlight in
Human bones stacked up in short piles
Wiped his face from that grin

Seth came back but Jake wasn’t there
Folks heard Seth’s scream for miles
The flashlight’s beam from inside the shed
Held fast on a new bone pile

@Copyright 2007 Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all poems and pictures on this blog cannot be copied and reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission from the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

RADIO COUNTRY CLUB

I found them with a spin of my radio dial
They were waiting with songs for me!
Jack Mock, Dusty Dan, Dale, Alan Sands, Jim Shirah
And, of course, Honest John Ferree

 They played music in a Radio Country Club
With a swimming pool for the fans
I first heard Elvis, The Supremes and Buddy Holly
When I became a Big Ape fan

 I bought records because I knew all the words
That the In-Men taught me so well
Collected their surveys and grabbed ‘Tenna Toppers
And, screamed when I heard the Ape Yell!

 They even brought the Beatles to sing in my town
     Folks still talk about that day
 Hurricane Dora had just brought her winds right past us
    But, we heard the Beatles play!

 I think about those days when radio was fun
And, the DJs were so cool!
And, how I fell in love with all of those rock stars
When I got home from high school

It was with a spin of the dial when I found them
I've cherished them all these years
To all the alumni of W A P E
I thank you with both my ears!


@Copyright 2007 Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this Blog
may not be duplicated on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the
written permission of the writer/creator at Scarlet@RhymeCreek.net

PINWHEEL PROMISES

Through squinting eyes I see the blades
As I wake from a sound sleep
A big beautiful ceiling fan spins around
Pushing the warm air to cool

The blades become more and more blurred
Widening with each fine turn
Pinwheels from my childhood take shape
As I drift to and from sleep

Standing in my backyard with no shoes
That skinny stick in my hand
With a colorful spinning pinwheel
That only moves because of me

I blow and watch the colors blend
And, again to see how fast
Enraptured in the moment of bliss
Not a care in the world

Pinwheel promises of perfect days
Where life goes on forever
Time was only when the sand man called
Not thought of on a sunny day

I’ll look for that pinwheel tomorrow
When squinting eyes awaken
That little girl with the promises
I’d like to see it all again

@Copyright 2007 Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this Blog cannot be duplicated and used on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creater at Scarlet@rhymecreek.com

MINNOWS IN THE ROAD RUTS

Standing knee deep in the flooded water
We were about one-hundred yards away
It seemed so strange that the frame of the pond
Had now become the size of this flood

There were fish in there but now they’re out here
Swimming free thinking their house had grown
Then, we realized that they would all soon die
As the flooding seeped into the ground

So, we herded the fish just like cowboys
Rounding up strays and heading home
The fish raced ahead just like children do
Wanting to be first back in the pond

But, where was the pond it had no borders
The fish played tag as they darted about
Our roundup was useless and we knew it
The new home for the fish was a death trap

Days later, when the water was gone
We walked the dirt road to the pond
Surprisingly water filled the road ruts
And, minnows were swimming around

We quickly gathered water filled buckets
And, scooped up handfuls of minnows
Heavy arms carried the buckets safely
Back to the pond where they were born

@Copyright 2007 Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this site cannot be reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

OF ALL THE GALL!

The girls loved to talk about Charlene
She brought it all on herself
The way she giggled passin’ the boys
Just might make you puke yourself

When Charlene showed up at the party
You could say that topped it all
Especially since she was on the arm of
Her unmitigated gall

No invitation was ever sent
She felt she didn’t need it
‘Course the look she got from all the girls
Could bend a Dewalt blade bit

Of all the gall to waltz right in
Thinking she was hot stuff
The fellas all stared like big horned owls
It was time to call her bluff

Your invitation arrived, Charlene!
I’m so glad to see you here!
I hope you remembered, dear Charlene
I asked for SIX cases of beer

@Copyright 2007 - Scarlet's Rhymes The above and all poetry and pictures on this site cannot be reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

THE WATER LILY'S SMILE

A very nice water lily sitting in a pond
I thought I’d take a picture
Zooming in very tight to see it close
I captured it right there

Days went by and I never looked at it
Still sitting in my camera
Soon forgotten and blended with other ones
Pictures to see some time soon

Time on my hands helped me remember it
I wondered about the pic
So I put the cable into the computer
And, watched as the pictures moved

There before me was such awesome beauty
No picture .. a grand painting!
Streaks of watercolors bathed over it
The lily was brought to life!

How did I take such an amazing shot?
I’m no great photographer
Perhaps Mother Nature knows cameras
And, the water lily’s smile

@2007 Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all pictures and poetry on this Blog cannot be copied and produced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creater at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

REACH FOR YOUR QUILL

Writing with a quill pen by candlelight
Seems so simple and romantic
The thoughts a mind can dream about
Finding their way to paper

Drenching the pen quickly in the ink well
To grab those ideas in flight
Watching as the paper drinks up the thoughts
Nestling them in paper fiber

One would guess things weren’t so complicated
The world spun slower then as well
Folks grew or shot or trapped all their food
The job was to exist each day

Race forward to now and what do you see?
Fast food, fast cars and cell phones
No paper, no pen and complicated days
Breath in and reach for your quill

@Copyright Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all other poems and pictures on this Blog cannot be copied and posted on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

DIPPITY DOO'D

My Mama rolled my hair every night
Those wire-y things with brushes
The ones that stuck holes in my head
As I tossed and turned finding less pain

Then, the big plastic rollers were there
As big as beer cans for poofyness
I felt like I was actually sitting up
When I tried to lie down in my bed

A soaking wet head full of rollers
Hoping that everything would dry
Be perfectly gorgeous in the morning
With no evidence of anything but pretty

Daddy said he couldn’t look at me
He said I looked like I was tuning in
Some radio station in Savannah
Men.. even Daddy’s .. what do they know?

Along came a glass jar of goop
Guaranteed to make things better
Put the goop on the hair and roll it
In the morning, gorgeous hair

I went through a lot of goop in my day=
My hair was always crunchy
But, that was a good thing I figured out
Guys notice when you’re Dippity- Doo’d!

@Copyright 2007 The above and all poetry and pictures on this Blog cannot be duplicated on the World Wide website without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

GREEN EYED LADY

The shop was filled with strange things
Hanging around on the walls
Ornamental and jewelry-esk
Witches brews next to 8 balls

A spider’s web in the corner
Beads hanging from everything
My eyes were unable to blink
A creepy feeling began

She came through the door in the back
Who.. is next.. to speak.. to Portia?
The lump in my throat spoke for me
As I stepped towards her door

I sat down and saw her green eyes
Was she hungry for the money?
Or, was she seeing something there
Something to scare me about

Portia sees a poet with her
I was no longer breathing
A poet with many stories
Will you write poem for Portia?

I – I came here for my future
Can you tell me about it?
Portia knows everything, yes!
You have question for Portia?

Actually.. I have a few
Portia is busy! Speak quickly!
You have twenty-five dollars first?
I gave her the cold hard cash

Portia will not disappoint you
I stared as she told the tale
Then, walked out poorer and richer
Her web still wrapped around me

@Copyright Scarlet's Rhymes - The about and all poetry and pictures on this blog are not to be reproduced on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the author/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com

I GOT OLD RECENTLY

I never really like to think about my age
I plan on it happening gracefully
Time will simply go about its business as usual
And, click off the days one at a time
So, it was quite unexpected when this happened
Yeah, it’s true.. I got old recently
Some of my high school classmates had gathered
To share stories and remember when
They wrote to say that some pictures were posted
I should take a look when I have the time
I wondered if he attended this gathering
The one who took me to the prom our senior year
The football player with that evil streak
I decided to take a look just for old times sake
And, found all of these old people laughing
Who in the world are they? Do I have the wrong site?
I found his name under a picture
He looked like the star of a TV commercial
Sadly, it’s an oatmeal commercial
Oh yeah, I got very old very fast recently
Knowing Wilford Brimley took me to the prom

@Copyright Scarlet's Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this Blog cannot be duplicated on the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.net