Mary Naylor Poems

A May Basket

May is a flower opening in the grass.
May is a golden smile that warms you as you pass.
...

A crazy quilt of leaves covers the ground,
A riot of confetti drifts earthward bound.
Summer is over, and summer’s last dawn.
Earth, sound your golden trumpets, summer is gone!
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As the ocean clasps the shore,
As the sun warms the air,
As the rain wets the earth,
As the breeze embraces the trees,
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Slender, willowy, her gown billowing
around her, she waited, trembling.
White flowers spilled over her like
a wedding veil. The clouds were huge
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Out of the sapphire shadows he creeps,
and into the dead of night he seeps.
In his prison grays, hiding from the light
of day, they call him, 'Bandit.'
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Beggar lady, in the white mist,
They say you carry a ragbag heart,
hidden inside your rattletrap cart.
I wonder, were you once loved and kissed?
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In its vast blue vault, the golden cup spills
over Earth's parched brow, unto its fevered, furrowed hills,
a clear ethereal wine, hot and pure, that mingles
with quietly devout, gaunt, prickly fingers,
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How do you like the roast beef?
Great Glory! Is that what it is?
Don't be blase'!
Well, it's Roast Beef a la Blah!
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She liked to pray by the knotted old tree
On the hill facing the restless sea.
She called it her, “Prayer Tree, ”
Because, she said, “It’s old and gnarled like me.”
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The wind,
Strums the strings,
Of the trees,
Tortured, distorted harps,
...