Genevieve (Gellatly) Forsythe Poems

The "field of dreams," everyone has one,
Baseball player, farmers, migrant workers, too,
Starlets and gamblers--all wanting to pursue,
The field of dreams, a magic sport,
...

My clothes are old, patched, and worn,
The soles of my shoes are thin,
My pockets have holes and are empty,
And I know I'm guilty of sin. I'm homeless and wander from street to street,
...

Hello, Mr. Robin, I see you there
Perched on the branch of the old maple tree
Searching the garden with beady black eyes
A fat, wiggly, red angleworm to see. I wonder where you have hidden your nest
...