Stephen S. Yeandle Poems

Beckoning green
bedroom call.

A silent stipulate
...

Writers Wife.
Who will take you home,
when you are half stoned?
...

Today and the day before last or just before the day before that…
Something began
Troubling,
Worrying,
...

When you have died in her eyes
And she has drifted away
When the poem has lost rhyme
And the wine has dried
...

If years have passed and your children are grown
The mortgage is paid and you have a second home
And in the garage are Mercedes’ and Jag’s and parked
At the dock is a yacht.
...

I have known many a bar, and the best of them all pour their liquor down the same old road; sometimes cobbled sometime paved sometimes not a road at all; promontory sands can lead the way or the quayside timbers of harbors and bays.

Same old friends on barstool watch, in each bar called by a different name. Same good lies on leader lines; same old jokes with an accent change. Each of us cut from the same sail cloth.
...

One of the Capt’s
of the burlap fleet;
a square grouper
Flotilla of
...

In our passions longing want, we saw a vision,
we thought was love.

A commonly enchanted state;
...

Strengthened by weakness.
Weakened by strength.

Infinite wheel of insecurity.
...

She was waltzing
with her memories through
the Spanish moss oaks.
...