Francie Lynch Poems

I shooed a June bug
Off my front screen door,
And the freighters blow fog horns
On The Huron and St. Clair.
...

I shooed a June bug
Off my front screen door;
The freighters' fog horns
Roll on The Huron and St. Clair.
...

I'm green with those I leave behind,
This world I have, where all seems mine.

I vacillate as their world keeps thriving,
...

Two wrens, a couple of birds with intent,
Lit on my new magnolia tree;
The blossoms are full,
There's ants on the leafs.
...

It's so very quiet tonight,
The mist makes no sound
The creatures are bedded,
Not a soul to be found.
...

What good can come from words of mine,
In open, blank or crafted rhyme;
Could they affect a single mind,
And if so, for how long a time.
...

Da could drink like a fish,
Eat like a goat,
Work like a horse,
Strut like a rooster,
...

A trout, going about its fish business
In the stream, breathing and searching,
Is distracted, then attracted
By the flash of the lure;
...

Her party conflicted me.
I worry if her expectations were met
After the last gift's been unwrapped,
And she's wearing her Princess elbow-length gloves,
...

I'm at home with my thoughts;
It's not quite quiet if one thinks a lot.
At the oddest time they rage, then storm;
Rack and thunder or light my night;
...