Chuck Toll

Chuck Toll Poems

When out of sorts with life or self,
A porch is hard to beat
As long as you’ve a comfy chair
And space to stretch your feet.

We neither pity other creatures nor feel sorry
for ourselves. Life does what it must, so do we.

We accept what there is: snakes, bugs, mice,

Kayaking on the East River, my daughter
Met a coyote swimming and offered help.
It declined, adding it needed the exercise.

I really want to know whether you exist or not!
Your site has several “Contact Us” links, and
Emails to you produce an “Auto-Thank You”
But our messages then get lost in cyberspace

Four score and more can be a drag.
I’ve watched my face in mirrors sag.
My fiber diet makes me gag.
Alas, my tail has lost its wag.

One April Claude Monet became enraptured
With an oak, a vision begging to be captured
On canvas, bare limbs stark against the light.
Magnifique! Mon Dieu, he’d paint this right!

The moose, silent at twilight in the mountain pond, watched us
Approach down the tree-canopied ravine without alarm.
It chomped calmly, water grasses dripping from its mouth.
While not inviting us to stay, it seemed to have no objection

Our small New England town buried a son yesterday,
A young soldier killed on duty in Afghanistan.
It was our first casualty in struggles far away
But, as it had proved, not sufficiently removed.

“This is a defining moment, ” proclaims our president loudly
As Malaki leading several newly minted regiments proudly
Rushes to Bosra to attack the Shiite militia and is nearly crushed,
With a thousand desertions. Another Kodak moment to be hushed.

Grand Canyon

Touching the gray stone
Formed beneath an inland sea

I’m very pleased to introduce to you
A teacher who is and isn’t new.
Though new to some of you today
Last year he joined our work and play.

“There are too many squirrels! ” my wife exclaimed. “They've taken over. They not only eat all the birdseed I put out, they eat the bird feeders themselves. They’re gnawing their way into the birdhouses too. Do you think they’ll start in on the house? ”

I looked through the kitchen window above the sink. She was right. On the lawn before my eyes, more than a dozen squirrels gamboled on the sun-dappled grass, dug relentlessly in an area I was trying to reseed that spring, chased each other through the branches, and swung acrobatically from the feeders they were plundering. Goldfinches, titmice, sparrows, chickadees and a few warblers perched uncertainly in the branches above. Only the mourning doves, whose gentle tones and appearance belie an unexpectedly resolute nature, seemed willing to challenge the squirrels in the search for food.

Our driveway has become
A killing field for worms,
And we don’t know what to do.

Evil Child is clearly learning
With her body slowly turning.
My new teaching methods
Have gained her full attention.
Dangling all day from a rope,
Bereft of help or hope,
Shows what may befall a lass
Difficult in class.

The pickup sits waiting in the drive.
The well-kept house next door is silent.
The husband has come back to collect
A few of his favorite things before

Robert Frost once observed in a moment of pet,
That tennis is foolish when played without net.

For years an orange shimmer
rippling the dark tank water
with our red slider turtle

The coyote was annoyed the van was late.
A dusty cloud, though, signaled its approach,
And soon Ramon was there and beckoning
Those inside. Nine shapes in all climbed out.

Boe the Cat was not an easy cat to like
But then he did not like others either.

All has not been corrected,
But like Scrooge ressurrected

Chuck Toll Biography

Thanks to all who pause to read poems at my site. Sincere feedback and suggestions always welcome. Hope you enjoy the experience.)

The Best Poem Of Chuck Toll


When out of sorts with life or self,
A porch is hard to beat
As long as you’ve a comfy chair
And space to stretch your feet.

Lean back and watch the world go by,
Forego life’s stress and chatter.
What’s not been done remains undone.
But, really, did it matter?

Unlike the confines of a house
That holds the world at bay,
A porch connects to life itself
At any time of day.

A porch’s vantage point and height,
The time of day or year,
Is less important than the chance
It gives to see and hear.

A portal to life beyond yourself
Is what a porch provides.
It helps regain perspective i
And quite a bit besides.

Empty your mind as you’d turn out
Your pocket change at night.
Just watch and listen silently,
In small things take delight:

Morning dew and waking sounds
Then sunlight through the leaves,
Small children passing on their bikes,
And smells borne by the breeze,

Birds in search of food or mates,
Your neighbors mowing lawns
The setting sun and rising moon,
At twilight deer with fawns.

A porch restores one’s sense of place,
Shows how all fits together,
Revealing ties that ease the heart
In any kind of weather.

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