Mary Naylor

Rookie (12/17/33 / Chicago, Illinois)

Mary Naylor Poems

121. The Grouchy Guardian Angel 2/2/2006
122. It Must Be Halloween! 9/28/2006
123. Past Perfect 8/18/2007
124. Listen For The Bells (Revised) 7/19/2008
125. Ghost Of Christmas Future Or Once Upon A Christmas Dreary (Concrete Poem) 11/7/2008
126. The Prayer Tree 1/29/2007
127. Dream Hoese Ii (Revised) 8/31/2006
128. Death Watch 2/2/2006
129. Middle Passage Remembrance Day - June 2 6/15/2007
130. Haiku Collection 10/6/2007
131. Die, Killer, Die 1/2/2003
132. Fire! 2/17/2006
133. The Bandit 2/19/2006
134. Heat Wave (Nonet) By Mary Naylor Revised August 22 2007 8/23/2007
135. The Autumn Of Forever (Quatrain) 11/1/2007
136. A May Basket 5/4/2007
137. Cinco De Mayo 4/5/2009
138. Awake! 6/27/2007
139. Dream Horse 2/14/2006
140. Three Haiku 7/19/2007
141. Dancin' In Paris 2/19/2006
142. Jonathan Nathan Go Do Your Homework 10/6/2007
143. Angel Tears 8/29/2007
144. Of Scales And Tails, Feathers And Pebbles And Endless Immeasurables 2/10/2006
145. Autumn Dreams 1/2/2003

Comments about Mary Naylor

  • Foor Skinn (1/24/2018 9:50:00 PM)

    CINCO DE MAYO MUCHACHOS THE TIME HAS COME HIDE YOUR WOMEN EAT YOUR CHILDREN AND KILL THE WHITE WOMAN WHO DISRESPECTS OUR DAY

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  • Hue Jass (1/23/2018 11:24:00 AM)

    CINCO DE MAYO CINCO DE MAYO CINCO DE MAYO CINCO DE MAYO EAT THE WHITE WOMAN

  • Sandra Fowler (12/7/2006 4:45:00 PM)

    Mary Naylor is one of my favorite poets at poemhunter. Her work is beautiful, eloquent and compassionate. It is deserving of much applause.

    Sandra Fowler

Best Poem of Mary Naylor

Autumn Dreams

Grinning pumpkins, falling leaves,
Dancing scarecrows, twirling breeze,
Color, color everywhere,
Autumn dreams are in the air! Autumn is a woman growing old,
Ready to let what is dead go,
Her youthful radiance has faded, and that's sad,
But underneath she discovers a
spread of colors she didn't know she had. Little children screech and run,
Ghosts and goblins having fun,
Color, color everywhere,
Autumn dreams are in the air! Around her a kaleidoscope of leaves are whirling.
Deep within her visions stir of new life that will be,
A budding, a ...

Read the full of Autumn Dreams

Clay

In its vast blue vault, the golden cup spills
over Earth's parched brow, unto its fevered, furrowed hills,
a clear ethereal wine, hot and pure, that mingles
with quietly devout, gaunt, prickly fingers,
humble supplicants cupping a rosary of sand.

In the darkness of their being
they silently gather silvery beads
that spill over like precious mead.

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