grace mariner Poems
|122.||The Old Nurse||3/9/2016|
|123.||Lost In Eddie||5/6/2016|
|126.||To The Squeamish And The Prudish, With Love From The Boorish||5/10/2016|
|127.||Here, Or There||9/6/2016|
Comments about grace mariner
When I am old I plan to live in a trailer full of cats.
I'll talk cat talk and walk cat walk
and dream of birds and rats.
I'll eat cat tuna and meow at the moona
and I'll roll and stretch on the floor.
I'll bite at fleas and do as I please
and leave my scent by the door.
And when my nine lives have all been spent
and my sins I must confess,
I'll sharpen my claws on the Pearly Gate walls
and act like I couldn't care less.
And the ghost asks...
If I would walk away from you, would you call after me?
Would the gentleman in you let me go, claiming no right to ask me to stay?
And the ghost wonders...
Am I just a ghost in the fog?
Am I invisible to you except for those occasional glimpses when the darkness pulls you down like an anchor?
And the ghost says...
That arms length you keep me at feels like 1,000 miles to me.
Your secrecy is oppressive!