Kathy Yarnell

Bear

There is a chocolate lab named Bear,
        And, he goes through everyday dog life without a care.

What he doesn’t eat he buries in the yard,
        And believe you me, there is nothing left to discard.

He also digs a place to rest,
        And all this accomplishes is making the yard into a huge mess.

There are holes and craters everywhere,
        This is what the Labrador considers as his underground lairs.

Even though Bear can sometimes be a pest,
        There is no other dog like a lab, loyal, and true,
                They are the Best.

The Switch

I once was the caregiver,
        Now I am the one in the need of help.

I guided you down the steep set of stairs,
        Now I am the one who needs the guiding hand.

I’d sit at night and watch your peaceful slumber,
        Now you watch me and pray I awaken.

I would worry and wait for you late at night,
        Now the wonder is yours and it is only dusk.

You were the child,
        Now I am an old child.

Freedom?

There are fireworks in the sky
And it is not independence day

There is sand all around
But no sound of the roaring surf

There are birds up above,
However, the desert does not have pelicans

There is freedom in the air,
But is freedom forced?

Will there independence be from us,
Or themselves?

Bethany

My Town of Bethany
But really considered a village
Why that is I do not know

Dogs and cats at the local Caseys
Getting there orders of leftover chicken fingers to go.

People walking in the streets
Striking up conversations
For there is not much else to do

And if you closed down the American Legion last night
They will all be talking about you.

The Heart of the Matter

My Father’s Heart is Broken
And not by love
Questions are asked
However, there are no answers
Would he listen to them anyway?

Poetry Classes

Poetry classes stink to my surmise
Bad omens always seems to arise
Now I must consider what is the source,
Is the curse the instructor?
Or is it the course?

Powerless

Sky turns black
Scurry in fear to shelter
West wind blows
Power lines snap
Blackout!!!!!

Timmy’s Trouble

Timmy, when will you ever learn?
You had one phone call and chose your brother
The rants and raves of disgust that I must hear
Why not you?
I would have made you stay with only bread and water

The Hair

No lights
No blow dryer
No hair curlers
Aha, a pony tail holder
Hence, the bad hair day

I have yet another poem that rhymes
The poetry curse has struck one more time
With a spinning cloud from the sky
It blew my Father’s outbuildings way up high
This confirms my belief that Tanka is the cause of the destruction
And the sole reason for major reconstruction.

I hear the blankets rustle
I peak in to see
My little angel starting to awaken
However, when he sees me
A little devil transpires

I like to nit
I like to pick
I like to be a bother
If I did not have these qualities
I would not be a true father

In a wagon full of grain
The rain falls down upon the tin
The soothing sound of pitter-patter
Your lids begin to waver
Slumber finally gives in

The family gathered all around
The discussion was that of Tanka
Some were funny
Some were crass
Laughter made the day

A child’s Easter morning
Chocolate eggs in a basket
The plastic are money filled
Hidden are the hard-boiled
So why the Easter Bunny?

Perhaps when I get my “A” grade
It will be the end of this bad omen charade

It is the last week of this poetry class
And I do not mean to sound so crass

I would like to believe my misfortune is over
But I have yet to find a four leaf clover

However, I do have a new theory for you
It is that Mr. Brooks is practicing Voodoo

Perhaps he will put his doll away
And my good fortune will return any day

Only time will be the one to tell
If he chooses to wish me well

When my good fortune does come back
Only then will I relax

But if my assumption about Mr. Brooks is incorrect
I then must assume and resurrect

That it is a poetry class curse
And chances are that things this week could get worse

Surely there will be a godsend
And the omen has come to an end.

My Little Boy

You are my little boy, and that will always be the case
I know when you get older that you will need your space.

Even now that you are five, you do like people to see,
That you like giving hugs and kisses in which I love to receive

But I rue the day when you decide to give your love to another
And I hope that I do not turn into one of those medaling mothers.

You will understand this love if you should have a little girl
There will be nothing more important to you in this great big world.

My love for you will never have to stand the test of time
You my son, will eternally be mine.