Rhonda Baker Poems

Walking on the beach's cold wet sand
Holding on to your lover hand in hand
The breeze brings ripples to the waters edge
The sun is going down, over the Earth's ledge
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Yellow like the sun on a clear summers day
Yellow like a hot air balloon over the bay
Yellow like homemade ice cream, all cold and sweet
Yellow of a newly hatched chick, with its tweet tweet tweet
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Go-Cart
Around, and around the go cart track
pedal to the floor, never looking back
Daughter in the front, gotta squeeze by
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S L O W L Y the sun rises over the sleepy frosted ground
The sun stretches towards Heaven, all Amber and round
The sky is somber orange, rising to Sky Blue
Wisp of clouds are floating across this humble view
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The Seraphim stands before the fires of hell
Blowing her trumpet, like a sea conch shell
Holding it in her out stretched arms
With all her grace and her charms
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Orange the juice to start your day
Orange the ball you use in play
The orange amber's that are left of a fire
The orange the day lilies that you admire
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Witches cackles fill the night
Black caldron by a firelight
Ghost and Goblins all through the dark
Scary, spooky trees with faces in bark
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Me I’m just an artist, be it glass, or words, or clay
An image I can capture in many a different way
I am just a vessel, through which life forces flow
I don’t know where it comes from, it just seems to grow
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In the glass studio where I work
The door is wide open to winter’s smirk
Snowflakes like cotton, falling from the sky
Passing by my window I just watch them fly
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You pervade my world
Like wind across a wheat field
Like a full moon; lights up the night
Like a bonfire in a snowstorm
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