As for blather there’s too much
to properly sieve and sort through
too much bite to thoughtfully chew
yet not enough to prove nonesuch.
Lynne
Category Archives: Poetry
Four Lines
Acquiring their base color while
they wait for contour, depth and shade
my scribbles pretend they’re self made
and begin to dance a twist freestyle.
-Lynne
Four Lines
Ink leaves no smear behind and stays
in its outline as I color
block true blue and yellow ochre
over goldenrod and green sage.
-Lynne
Four Lines
Until I reach my own designs
the shape wriggles before my eyes
while I decide how the page lies
searching for figures in the lines.
-Lynne
Four Lines
In my control I keep the lines,
after the initial scribble
the kneaded eraser nibbles
until I reach my own designs.
-Lynne
Four Lines
Erased graphite pencil scrawls roll
across my latest squiggle sketch
because I have to really stretch
to keep the lines in my control.
-Lynne
Four Lines
Mac wonders but he ignores all
except my kneaded erasers.
Why does he yearn for the flavors
of erased graphite pencil scrawls?
-Lynne
Four Lines
On my heel a good Lab ponders
delightful forbidden high-jinks,
while one ear flops inside-out pink
he ignores all but he wonders.
-Lynne
Four Lines
I did not catch a winter chill
while snowflakes glittered on Mac’s back,
white scattered stars against the black
of a good Lab pondering heel.
-Lynne
Four Lines
I stretch my chair bound legs and still
my screen and exercise collide,
besides I heard it’s cold outside
and I could catch a winter chill.
-Lynne
the crafty sisters 