© 2014 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
Friday
A rhythmic ticking
Paints melodies in my head
Marking time’s passage
The weekend draws ever near
Is it only twelve o’clock?
-Laura Freeman-
April 11,2014
Late
The hour
Just sat down
No time to write
Cinquains!
Eleven
Good poems
Too tired tonight,
Time for a dud
Cinquains!
Rhymes
Are overrated
These are easier
Poems can be quick
Cinquains!
-Laura Freeman-
-April 12, 2014-
Not a Sonnet
I tried to write a sonnet today,
Shakespeare was famous for this brand of rhyme,
I have three solid starts I've cast away,
I tried to write a sonnet today,
It's getting hard to think of things to say,
Not to mention how this consumes my time,
I tried to write a sonnet today,
Shakespeare was famous for this brand of rhyme.
-Laura Freeman-
April 13, 2014
The Road Trip
Racing the clock in the morning,
Organizing them to get out the gate,
Actively bribing and warning,
Don't turn on the t.v., we'll be late!
The highway, it stretches ahead,
Rocky and dusty, but dry and bare,
I reach back, hand out snacks, keep them fed,
Pass back toys, trade books, make them share.
When will we get there? It's cacophony,
I'm bored. How much further? Not much more!
That one's thirsty; That one's hungry; She's looking at me!
Have to go to pee! ... but I didn't have to before!
Feet down, keep them off of my stuff!
Or, mister, you can get out and walk!
Unfortunately, he sees through my bluff,
Really? I can? Nah, Mom's all talk.
Keep quiet, the baby just started to nap,
I feel sick, hurry, pass me the bucket!
Didn't make it, oops, I threw up in my lap.
So... road trip next weekend? Nah, F---orget it!
-Laura Freeman-
April 14, 2014
Our oldest son is sensitive and bright,
With a sense of humour that makes me grin,
Creative, loyal, and gaining in height.
Our second son has a spark from within,
He's ever trusting, though stubborn a bit,
Poky in the mornings, but genuine.
My third, sweet and loving, a kind spirit,
Chatty, we have quite the conversations,
Feminine, charming, yet wild, I'll admit.
Then there's our baby, full of elation,
An explorer, a climber, half monkey,
Keeps us going until day's cessation.
Our children make us a great family!
- Laura Freeman -
April 15, 2014
Mommy Lies
Yes, that tutu looks good atop your pants,
Yes, I would like to see your made-up dance,
I like the lovely mug you made with clay,
I'll take it to work and use it every day,
I'm not annoyed,, that stain will wash right out,
It barely shows, I didn't mean to shout,
Yes, I would love to read that book once more,
And play with your toys for hours on the floor
Yes, of course Santa brought you that teddy bear,
Yes, he also brought the socks and underwear!
It isn't gross, it's special, just try it please,
It's orange and white because it's giraffe cheese,
The tooth fairy didn't forget to come last night,
She couldn't break a twenty, give it up, alright?
Don't sit so close to the t.v. or you'll go blind,
Too many video games will rot your growing mind,
I don't know how that baby got in my tummy,
She just decided that I would be her Mommy,
You ask so many questions, and that's not bad,
But Mommy doesn't know, so please go ask your Dad!
-Laura Freeman-
April 16, 2014
a quiet humming
bisects the silence rudely
the computer sings
whispers down the hall
interrupt concentration
children still awake
the fridge murmurs
steadily it's icy tune
the kitchen buzzes
a cough, a hush
the artificial silence
disturbing the peace
she craves the quiet
but gets instead night time noise
the house is alive
-Laura Freeman-
April 17, 2014
Good Friday
Why do they call it Good Friday today?
My curious children want me to say,
So I tell them why, today Jesus died,
Instead, they decide to call it Bad Friday.
-Laura Freeman-
April 18, 2014
She Sells Sea Shells
Whilst out on the board walk, and facing the shore,
With her strawberry top and Peruvian hat,
She calls to the men, invites them to adore,
Her snout otter clam, what do they think of that?
She stretches out on the beach, with her leather donax,
They come in droves at her profession of love,
For the incised moon; Her patrons stop in their tracks,
When she bats her eyes, innocent as the sparse dove.
They stroke her shuttlecock volva, sun-warmed and kept neat,
Her false cups and saucers, entice them further,
Her heavy bonnet on display, she smiles so sweet,
For she knows it makes the sale worthier.
They fondle her prized striped engina, and meet
Her Lazarus jewel box which is tempting and open,
They greedily handle her unequal bittersweet,
No piece of hers is off limits to them.
After a day at the sea, peddling pleasures,
For a dollar or two, in exchange for herself
What eventually becomes of her priceless treasures?
Forgotten trinkets on some sun-seeker's shelf.
-Laura Freeman -
April 19, 2014
Lily's Tanka
They keep me captive
Feed me dry food and water
Call me abject names
But I will tolerate them
Cats will someday rule the world
-Laura Freeman-
April 20, 2014
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