Tag Archives: poem
The guinea fowl The guinea fowl counts: one, two, three, four … Pray what is all that counting for, Out there among the deep dark pine trees? The bird, driven by knowledge’s itch, And doing so without a glitch, Is … Continue reading
This one’s seen happiness beyond bliss It squints in happiness like someone exposed to too much bright sun coming in at an awkward winter angle What’s left after so much bliss? – James Steerforth (© 2008) Autobiographical note Written not … Continue reading
Its crumpled brow and downcast looks reveal it’s serious. It comes with heavy steps, black laceless shoes, a sizeable rump. Dresses in knit browns barely containing a bulky bust. But what beautiful big golden shiny eyes – one would surmise … Continue reading
The clinking of flag strings against poles the only sound in the deserted twilight park with its November bare trees – that clinking and farther-away traffic noise – James Steerforth (© 2007) Note All freshly seen, heard, felt.
It’s wearing a big wide grin (and nothing else but a scratched Swatch wristwatch) Omigod what big spade-like teeth, but white and healthy from regular brushing and flossing What big round blue eyes that smile at you, whoever you are … Continue reading