Biography of Lois Read
Lois Read, retired Art Teacher, began writing poems in the 1980s, has been published in The Connecticut River Review, winning a 'best in issue' for her poem Barefoot Queen. She has published two chapbooks, is preparing to publish a third.
Lois Read's Works:
Once Upon a Time is Now
Lois Read Poems
Do Not Go Gentle (Title From Dylan Thoma...
The lone red most ordinary tulip in the front garden has surprisingly mmorphed
A Painter's Muse (A Pantoum)
She was a perfect composition sitting there broad brown face with smile as white as lilies, red rebozo, red pail of flowers, skirts spread around her like an audience.
Words resound in my soul like gongs or the bells in the Buddhist temple where the saffron-clad boy-monk sidled close to me on the bench
Late April Walk
Bright blue bits of sky assert themselves through soft spring scrim bell the morning
The Peacock's Tail
Shrill whistles pierce the country calm as peacocks flounce florescent tails. Imprisoned in their corsets, ladies
God Is A Radish
A poet I know said God is a radish. I thought about that for a long time, trying to make a connection
Shells And Stones And Sea Glass
I pick up shells and stones and sea glass wave-glazed and glossy still on early morning beach walks
Ode To A Geranium
I am red, surrounded by purple color my life, the scent of my breath I eat it, drink it bathe in it daily
Yoga In Provence
Listen for the bird singing two mountains away. Leap-frog over sounds of morning dogs barking chisels hitting stone children shouting to school
The whoops of joy erupting from the school playground at recess into the hot Mexican sky are not Spanish sounds, but universal language
(the first line of the poem is from Emily Dickinsen) Angels rent the house nest ours wherever we remove
Next Train To Tokyo
The dream is full of things missing letters needed to make words a missed train to Tokyo
The glass of wild broom on the bathroom shelf one petal already fallen yellow on warm oiled wood says hurry outside
I cannot cut them down, the rich brown cones of the balck-eyed-susans, golden skirts shed standing tall against morning bright grass.
Pepper In Chocolate
The butterfly is busy
doing its appointed thing,
sipping nectar from the blooms
on the butterfly bush,
natural order underscored.
But what of the maverick-
the butterfly who dares to try
the wildness of the fireweed?