Charlotte Ballard


Charlotte Ballard Poems

281. She Said Yes 10/9/2005
282. A Mother's Day Poem 2/7/2006
283. Invocation To The Muse 2/7/2006
284. Juvenile Poetry: An Adolescent Cries 3/30/2005
285. My Head Aches 6/3/2005
286. Curiosity Killed The Cat 1/12/2006
287. I Never Had A Mother 7/20/2005
288. It's Too Late 9/19/2005
289. Two Cats Warm 3/30/2005
290. Battle 3/30/2005
291. Sleigh Ride 3/30/2005
292. Betrayal By A Child 3/30/2005
293. Social Commentary - More Of It: A Prophet's Price 4/19/2010
294. A Promise Meant Nothing 11/2/2006
295. Jelly Babies 10/9/2011
296. Lessons In Elocution 10/26/2008
297. Tangled Hair 10/9/2011
298. Washing Dishes 10/9/2011
299. Weather Vane 7/12/2012
300. Forgotten Popcorn 8/31/2006
301. My Only Song 3/30/2005
302. Aids 7/30/2005
303. Burger King Poet 3/30/2005
304. Mr. Goodbar 3/30/2005
305. A Two-Minute Poem 7/13/2005
306. Cleverness 3/27/2008
307. Stubborn Teachers 10/9/2011
308. Ode To Pizza 3/30/2005
309. Playing Cards 3/30/2005

Comments about Charlotte Ballard

  • Paul Slinski Paul Slinski (4/11/2005 10:49:00 AM)

    Some people are never happy unless they are complaining about something.
    Makes me wonder if they have some kind of cult somewhere that we don't know about.

    Great words, Charlotte. Very easy for me to relate to. Poetry as a comfortable chair.

    You are in my friends list.

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Best Poem of Charlotte Ballard

Playing Cards

I don't have much
That I can claim-
Just an old brush
With half the bristles gone,
A toothbrush, a clean shirt or two.
One jar of soap given, I think
As a present
Two Christmases ago
By some women's group
That brought fruity punch-
Not the beer we'd asked for.

I could all fit it
In a child's shoe box, this big,
I'd guess and, oh yes,
My playing cards
A blue rider deck
With a few edges bent back.
I stuck my cards
Down deep in my pants when Charley
Wouldn't stop. He pleaded softly
With fish-cold eyes and quivering ...

Read the full of Playing Cards

Insomnia

Night wanders in
And coils around my leg-
Meowing up at me, to
Scratch it's back-
And search for fleas
My eye twitches as I
Pluck the night and
Fling it into the first
Burst of dawn.

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