jeff barth Poems

There are sirens in my forrest shrieking and pressing against the peaceful leaves and branches that hold up the night sky.

The giant oaks sigh as sleep slips away from them hiding in the porch light as shadows on my neighbors lawn.
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I'm boiling potatoes so I can fry them for breakfast.

Mom used to take the boiled potatos left over from dinners past, out of
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She rolls over and ask for more slumber as I head for coffee and the mornin paper.

Sometimes sweetness takes longer to rise and I watch her burrow into her pillow,
shoveling deeper into the comfortable, blue blanket we both love to fight over.
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Some times you do the right thing because it's the right thing to do

Love is not doing the right thing because it's the right thing to do
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We Built a tent in our living room from the blanket we love.
We put it in front of our fire place, gathering up the sequenced pillows
from the bedroom. She thought they looked perfect with the couch.
Our dog Sugar Bear found this a grand idea curling up in a corner on a pillow for a nap.
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