Theresa Ann Moore Poems

The riches of a king I have
None gilded with precious gold
Peace of mind with family fed
These are the treasures I hold
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Della and her daughter
Live in the depths of the city together
They have a house that they humbly call ours
Daily, sirens wail from passing police cars
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A figure made from dry whittled wood
Suspended by thin strings of helium
Screw eyes connecting jointed limbs
To a torso with an attached cranium
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There are occurrences that you lovingly retrieve
Lasting thoughts that bring a smile to your face
On the other hand, some forgotten memories relieve
Wiped clean as though they vanished without a trace
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When you reason…
Are you analytical?
Does everything add up?
Or do you find yourself in a pickle…
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Living between fanciful fantasy and reality
With whimsical thoughts of being free
From the daily stress and drudgery
Wishing so intently…longing to believe
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Collecting thoughts and putting them in storage
Like summer clothes after balmy breezes have ceased
Like wrapping long stemmed glass in paper tissue
And placing them in seclusion after a holiday feast
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Palindromes say the same
Whether forwards or reverse
It is like a word brain game
The meaning is never diverse
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My cat is entertaining
As he bolts and rolls
I smile and shake my head
My laughter I am not restraining
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With the passing of my children’s father
I wondered if indeed there was life after
Sad thoughts sought to find a familiar figure
Seeing only sympathy cards and a floral mixture
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