There were snow flurries in the air today
early for my liking, snow flurries coming
in small singular spirals, falling through the air
spun by their shapes, the tug of the wind
sitting in the office, watching them tumble
by my window, pause in the conversation with client
marvel for a moment at the ballet before me
forward scouts for their brethren to follow
later in the season when fall yields to winter
soon enough they will come, in legions
November 4, 2006 19:22
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,770+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
A Harsh Mirror
For those who grab the spotlight
sit in righteous judgment
Casting the first stone
against their fellow.
A harsh mirror, from the
carnie, the fun house
Distorts their features
a parody of themselves
when their own sin is
exposed, shone across the
dial, the web, the real-time news cycle
How far the mighty climb
in the Temple
How far they fall
When the shards of their glass house
crumbles under the weight
of their hubris
November 3, 2006 21:50
sit in righteous judgment
Casting the first stone
against their fellow.
A harsh mirror, from the
carnie, the fun house
Distorts their features
a parody of themselves
when their own sin is
exposed, shone across the
dial, the web, the real-time news cycle
How far the mighty climb
in the Temple
How far they fall
When the shards of their glass house
crumbles under the weight
of their hubris
November 3, 2006 21:50
All
of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004,
2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights
reserved. Contact me at Ray
Foss for usage. See all 30,710+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
A Drive to Court
Three together, down the road
a sprint to a court date,
saving at the end, of the journey
second-hand smoke, nervous puffs
of the cigarettes of the driver
her passenger;
Stranger riding along,
in the back seat,
Hoping to be a white knight,
champion of a silent partner
of this ragtag band
Pursuing a singular purpose
To keep them safe, return them
to their family, with judicial seal
imprimatur of legitimacy
Denied elsewhere, by those
who think they know better
November 3, 2006 21:45
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
a sprint to a court date,
saving at the end, of the journey
second-hand smoke, nervous puffs
of the cigarettes of the driver
her passenger;
Stranger riding along,
in the back seat,
Hoping to be a white knight,
champion of a silent partner
of this ragtag band
Pursuing a singular purpose
To keep them safe, return them
to their family, with judicial seal
imprimatur of legitimacy
Denied elsewhere, by those
who think they know better
November 3, 2006 21:45
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Justice Amidst the Process
Hearing her words, her voice
anguished, tired, spent,
seeking justice, from her view
unification with her babies,
her grandchildren, caught up
in the System, pulled from home
and family, in care, in the
throes, the process, of the law
Trying, desperately, to temper
her frustration within the bubble
the reality she faces, to assuage the fears
curry favor, cooperate fully
because she must
November 3, 2006 21:42
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,790+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
anguished, tired, spent,
seeking justice, from her view
unification with her babies,
her grandchildren, caught up
in the System, pulled from home
and family, in care, in the
throes, the process, of the law
Trying, desperately, to temper
her frustration within the bubble
the reality she faces, to assuage the fears
curry favor, cooperate fully
because she must
November 3, 2006 21:42
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,790+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Discovery
How aptly named,
is discovery, the information
the case of the Division
Page after page, a catalog
of surprises, discoveries indeed
The proofs, evidence, claims
of the prosecution
Pour over it, all of it
for a hidden gem,
inconsistency, weak links
in the chain, the steps
the path to guilt
November 3, 2006 21:33
On receiving a 250 page packet
of Discovery
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
is discovery, the information
the case of the Division
Page after page, a catalog
of surprises, discoveries indeed
The proofs, evidence, claims
of the prosecution
Pour over it, all of it
for a hidden gem,
inconsistency, weak links
in the chain, the steps
the path to guilt
November 3, 2006 21:33
On receiving a 250 page packet
of Discovery
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
A Wailing Choir
Three young siren’s
all peeling in pain,
of their own making
set off by a punishment
an accounting for misbehavior
a price to pay for their testing
rebellion against authority
seeing how far they can push.
And going beyond that point,
feeling the sting of consequence,
the judgment, the perk cancelled
Three members of the wailing choir
off key and inconsolable
because the movie tonight
will be
without popcorn
November 3, 2006 21:03, edited 11/4/06 7:39
all peeling in pain,
of their own making
set off by a punishment
an accounting for misbehavior
a price to pay for their testing
rebellion against authority
seeing how far they can push.
And going beyond that point,
feeling the sting of consequence,
the judgment, the perk cancelled
Three members of the wailing choir
off key and inconsolable
because the movie tonight
will be
without popcorn
November 3, 2006 21:03, edited 11/4/06 7:39
All
of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005,
2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved.
Contact me at Ray
Foss for usage. See all 28,680+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
A Skim of Ice
The red, red maple leaves
festooned with pearls of ice
tiny droplets frozen on the fallen
the dying red leaves, this morning
drink in the image, standing on the porch
before the formal start of our day,
early morning before the children awake
hear the crunch of the frost being scraped
for the first time of the season
out on the road before our house
some other early riser, heading out
out into the cold November ‘morn
See our breath, watch the
puddle in the birdbath,
a skim of ice now,
before the sun finds our yard
and the day warms seasonally
November 3, 2006 20:58
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
festooned with pearls of ice
tiny droplets frozen on the fallen
the dying red leaves, this morning
drink in the image, standing on the porch
before the formal start of our day,
early morning before the children awake
hear the crunch of the frost being scraped
for the first time of the season
out on the road before our house
some other early riser, heading out
out into the cold November ‘morn
See our breath, watch the
puddle in the birdbath,
a skim of ice now,
before the sun finds our yard
and the day warms seasonally
November 3, 2006 20:58
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Singing in My Mind
Up there, on stage,
strumming, fingering
the frets, the neck,
the metal strings of
an old friend, his guitar,
along with his partner
the one on vocals;
not sharing,
the lyrics, the story,
the tune himself,
No, not out loud,
He only sang along
in his mind
November 3, 2006 20:42
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
strumming, fingering
the frets, the neck,
the metal strings of
an old friend, his guitar,
along with his partner
the one on vocals;
not sharing,
the lyrics, the story,
the tune himself,
No, not out loud,
He only sang along
in his mind
November 3, 2006 20:42
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Metal Doors
A singular sound,
a permanency, masculine certainty,
sudden heavy, final, unrelenting
the sound of authority, no free will
no choices any longer
submitting utterly to other wills
regimented steps, directed steps
in halting passage from point to point
Punctuated by the sound of
heavy metal doors
barring your path
sealed behind you, before you
November 3, 2006 20:50
The experience of walking inside the Hillsborough County
House of Corrections (Valley Street Jail)
a permanency, masculine certainty,
sudden heavy, final, unrelenting
the sound of authority, no free will
no choices any longer
submitting utterly to other wills
regimented steps, directed steps
in halting passage from point to point
Punctuated by the sound of
heavy metal doors
barring your path
sealed behind you, before you
November 3, 2006 20:50
The experience of walking inside the Hillsborough County
House of Corrections (Valley Street Jail)
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A.
Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011,
2012, 2013. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage.
See all 22,070+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
Chicken Soup
Is it the soup, or its making
that soothes, bleeds stress,
changes the mind, cutting through
the cares of the day,
warming the body, the soul
Cutting the meat from the steaming,
saturated carcass, boiled down
after our dinner
Add potatoes, the onion,
carrots, spice, simmer, garlic
salt to taste, breath in the
steam, the broth, linger
over the first bowl, the second too
Save for another day, another chance
to savor the loving remedy
November 3, 2006 20:39
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,870+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
that soothes, bleeds stress,
changes the mind, cutting through
the cares of the day,
warming the body, the soul
Cutting the meat from the steaming,
saturated carcass, boiled down
after our dinner
Add potatoes, the onion,
carrots, spice, simmer, garlic
salt to taste, breath in the
steam, the broth, linger
over the first bowl, the second too
Save for another day, another chance
to savor the loving remedy
November 3, 2006 20:39
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,870+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
The Stealth Roadie
Where did he go, when did
he spring into action
set up the room, survey the scene
the need for more chairs,
additional food, light,
more dark hot coffee
Turning around, the need met
the scene set, all in place
by his silent work
November 3, 2006 20:35
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,770+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
he spring into action
set up the room, survey the scene
the need for more chairs,
additional food, light,
more dark hot coffee
Turning around, the need met
the scene set, all in place
by his silent work
November 3, 2006 20:35
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,770+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Taste the Smell
Coming down the stairs
from the office to the
living room, dining room, kitchen
descending into the cloud, the
glorious smell, mouth-watering
the smell of the cheeseburgers,
our lunch, freshly grilled
the apartment saturated,
pervaded, infused
by the wondrous aroma,
the taste of the meat
still in anticipation
November 3, 2006 20:30
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,870+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
from the office to the
living room, dining room, kitchen
descending into the cloud, the
glorious smell, mouth-watering
the smell of the cheeseburgers,
our lunch, freshly grilled
the apartment saturated,
pervaded, infused
by the wondrous aroma,
the taste of the meat
still in anticipation
November 3, 2006 20:30
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,870+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Waiting for the Wind
a cluster of open milkweed pods
brown flat seeds, a ball of cotton candy silk
waiting for the wind, to catch the currents
to fly like gossamer sails across the blue fall sky
twirl and arc heavenward in the blustery gusts
pulses of air of the autumn breezes, with hints
of smoke, smell of apples,
of wet leaves, before their decay
pregnant pods, waiting to burst
scatter their harvest, their children
to the wiles of the wind
November 2, 2006 22:10
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,800+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
brown flat seeds, a ball of cotton candy silk
waiting for the wind, to catch the currents
to fly like gossamer sails across the blue fall sky
twirl and arc heavenward in the blustery gusts
pulses of air of the autumn breezes, with hints
of smoke, smell of apples,
of wet leaves, before their decay
pregnant pods, waiting to burst
scatter their harvest, their children
to the wiles of the wind
November 2, 2006 22:10
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,800+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Our Story
I told our story again, yesterday
driving down the highway, with strangers
sharing our story, of love, of courtship
of finding belonging, hope, faith
coincidences, sharing moments of fun, of joy
of spontaneity, and serious reflection
of a two-month turn of our lives, from separate
to joined as man and wife, as husband and father
lover and friend to you my princess
laughing, loving, from October to December
two years ago this fall
November 2, 2006 22:05
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,790+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
driving down the highway, with strangers
sharing our story, of love, of courtship
of finding belonging, hope, faith
coincidences, sharing moments of fun, of joy
of spontaneity, and serious reflection
of a two-month turn of our lives, from separate
to joined as man and wife, as husband and father
lover and friend to you my princess
laughing, loving, from October to December
two years ago this fall
November 2, 2006 22:05
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,790+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Waiting for the Wind
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,800+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Following Her
She was attached, joined with her
Ready to follow where she lead
Prepared to leave all she knew, all
Who knew her, where she was from
To be by her side, to share the journey
The road that lead ahead, ready for
Anything, with her, following her home
November 2, 2006 18:26
Ruth 1:1-18
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,800+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Ready to follow where she lead
Prepared to leave all she knew, all
Who knew her, where she was from
To be by her side, to share the journey
The road that lead ahead, ready for
Anything, with her, following her home
November 2, 2006 18:26
Ruth 1:1-18
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,800+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
I was a Hobo
Newpaper smeared on my face
over and over, to get the right
five o’clock shadow
a ripped gray sweatshirt
hair up and sprayed, for just
the right wrong look
torn jeans, a bandana
my costume, or the general idea
for many a year, a hobo
prowling the neighborhood,
on All Hollow’s Eve
October 31, 2006 22:25
over and over, to get the right
five o’clock shadow
a ripped gray sweatshirt
hair up and sprayed, for just
the right wrong look
torn jeans, a bandana
my costume, or the general idea
for many a year, a hobo
prowling the neighborhood,
on All Hollow’s Eve
October 31, 2006 22:25
All of my
poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005,
2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved.
Contact me at Ray Foss
for usage. See all 33,160+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
They Couldn’t Wait
Eager arms pulling mine,
transferring the bag with the loot
from one hand to another
depending on which side of her
little ballerina I was on
Urging my steps along the side
the edge of the road,
pulling me to the next house
the next bowl of goodies,
the next special moment
on her quest for candy
the annual pilgrimage
from home to home
for chocolate, for sugar
the excess of it
the wonderful excess
of it all
October 31, 2006 22:20
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,780+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
transferring the bag with the loot
from one hand to another
depending on which side of her
little ballerina I was on
Urging my steps along the side
the edge of the road,
pulling me to the next house
the next bowl of goodies,
the next special moment
on her quest for candy
the annual pilgrimage
from home to home
for chocolate, for sugar
the excess of it
the wonderful excess
of it all
October 31, 2006 22:20
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,780+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
A Remorseful Stowaway
Hanging on for dear life,
even at thirty, she must have
regretted her choice to perch on the edge
of the window, of the van
the spider on the outside of the window
as we went down the road,
proud of itself as we stopped at the
red light on Canal, not so happy
on the highway, a remorseful stowaway
lost in turbulent flow
October 31, 2006 22:16
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
even at thirty, she must have
regretted her choice to perch on the edge
of the window, of the van
the spider on the outside of the window
as we went down the road,
proud of itself as we stopped at the
red light on Canal, not so happy
on the highway, a remorseful stowaway
lost in turbulent flow
October 31, 2006 22:16
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
She was a #Bride #poem #Halloween #Princess #Ballerina
A tiny bride, with a veil
that was her mother’s
when we wed
White dress, white tights,
black school shoes,
her bouquet left in the car
her mind on the treats
this Halloween Night
Her first time walking to
darkened houses, bright lit ghouls
ghosts, jack-o-lanterns
Trick or Treat! she cried
and got treats each time
Her bag grew heavy,
heavier than her sisters’
the princess and ballerina.
Walking carefully on sidewalks,
front steps, push the bell,
wait patiently for the answer
of the denizens inside
say her thank you’s
move on down the street
to the next adventure
on the night of treats
-------------------
Edited February 23, 2024
She was a Bride – v2
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2024/02/she-was-bride-v2.html
October 31, 2006 21:59
She was a Bride
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2006/10/she-was-bride.html
This poems was used by:
Gyldendal’s e-learning platform “Engelsk.gyldendal.dk”
All of my poems, photographs, and videos are copyrighted by
Raymond A. Foss, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008,
2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021,
2022, 2023, and 2024. All rights are reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for usage. See
all 53,000+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
poetry, Ruth, mother, October, poem, white, Manchester, New
Hampshire, Poetry Where You Live, Family, Halloween, God, sister, Bride, veil, Princess,
Ballerina,
#poetry #Ruth #mother #October #poem #white #Manchester #NewHampshire
#PoetryWhereYouLive #Family #Halloween #God #sister #Bride #veil #Princess #Ballerina
that was her mother’s
when we wed
White dress, white tights,
black school shoes,
her bouquet left in the car
her mind on the treats
this Halloween Night
Her first time walking to
darkened houses, bright lit ghouls
ghosts, jack-o-lanterns
Trick or Treat! she cried
and got treats each time
Her bag grew heavy,
heavier than her sisters’
the princess and ballerina.
Walking carefully on sidewalks,
front steps, push the bell,
wait patiently for the answer
of the denizens inside
say her thank you’s
move on down the street
to the next adventure
on the night of treats
Edited February 23, 2024
She was a Bride – v2
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2024/02/she-was-bride-v2.html
October 31, 2006 21:59
She was a Bride
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2006/10/she-was-bride.html
Gyldendal’s e-learning platform “Engelsk.gyldendal.dk”
Walking to the Courthouse
Walking to the courthouse
to make copies for a pending case
no urgent brisk walk for arguments,
for the challenge of court, a purposeful
but easier walk, to the Clerk’s Office
to check the file, review and prepare
for another day, a few weeks from now
Time to notice the little things along
my path, the signs of fall, of leaves,
feathers, milkweed pods, seeds
and the crunch of the litter of the season
on the sidewalk, the edge of the yards
little bits of the debris, the clutter
of urban life, the little dramas in the
the back alleys, the side lawns
the broken stairs, the angels and gnomes
in the yards, a Curious George
in the dirt, face down, where it was
forgotten, little stories, fragments of lives
all along my route, walking the dozen blocks
to court from the office, on a fall morning
October 31, 2006 21:52
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,780+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
to make copies for a pending case
no urgent brisk walk for arguments,
for the challenge of court, a purposeful
but easier walk, to the Clerk’s Office
to check the file, review and prepare
for another day, a few weeks from now
Time to notice the little things along
my path, the signs of fall, of leaves,
feathers, milkweed pods, seeds
and the crunch of the litter of the season
on the sidewalk, the edge of the yards
little bits of the debris, the clutter
of urban life, the little dramas in the
the back alleys, the side lawns
the broken stairs, the angels and gnomes
in the yards, a Curious George
in the dirt, face down, where it was
forgotten, little stories, fragments of lives
all along my route, walking the dozen blocks
to court from the office, on a fall morning
October 31, 2006 21:52
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,780+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Monday, October 30, 2006
The Hum of the Fan
All is quiet in the house,
girls asleep, slowing down
the only sound my fingers clicking these words
the purr of the computer fan, the flashing
red computer light, green power on
a desk lamp sends a cone of light over my typing
a cocoon really of a glow, keeping me up
the electricity hums in the machine
I hear myself breathing, thinking of the next
clatter of the keyboard, the digits of my hands
move in unison toward the touch typing of the letters
the motion of the writer, crafting language from the
clicking of the keys, the whir of the fan,
the ache in my elbow as I lean away from the screen
the static electricity of the cathode ray, the warmth
of the incandescent bulb, the arc of its lighting
pressing onward in the words the thoughts later at night
in the quiet in the office after the girls are asleep
before I join them in slumber
after the typing is done and the period added
at the end of the page. ç
October 30, 2006 22:50
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,960+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
girls asleep, slowing down
the only sound my fingers clicking these words
the purr of the computer fan, the flashing
red computer light, green power on
a desk lamp sends a cone of light over my typing
a cocoon really of a glow, keeping me up
the electricity hums in the machine
I hear myself breathing, thinking of the next
clatter of the keyboard, the digits of my hands
move in unison toward the touch typing of the letters
the motion of the writer, crafting language from the
clicking of the keys, the whir of the fan,
the ache in my elbow as I lean away from the screen
the static electricity of the cathode ray, the warmth
of the incandescent bulb, the arc of its lighting
pressing onward in the words the thoughts later at night
in the quiet in the office after the girls are asleep
before I join them in slumber
after the typing is done and the period added
at the end of the page. ç
October 30, 2006 22:50
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,960+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
The Colors of My Walks to School(s) - October 2006
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
A February Sky
Walking to the playground, yesterday afternoon
after the change of the time on the clocks, fall back
into winter, the darkness falling around me, around them
laughing, running in the stiff wind. Laughing because they
they were in winter coats and I was in a suit
the sky a harbinger of February this October dusk
grays and pale pinks in the heavens, my breath visible
in spite of the wind, wicking the warm from me
a February sky in October, winter fast upon us
holding the earth after the falling leaves,
the torrential rain of Saturday
October 30, 2006 18:57
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
after the change of the time on the clocks, fall back
into winter, the darkness falling around me, around them
laughing, running in the stiff wind. Laughing because they
they were in winter coats and I was in a suit
the sky a harbinger of February this October dusk
grays and pale pinks in the heavens, my breath visible
in spite of the wind, wicking the warm from me
a February sky in October, winter fast upon us
holding the earth after the falling leaves,
the torrential rain of Saturday
October 30, 2006 18:57
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,010+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Blood on the Lintels
Blood shed in fulfillment,
willingly spilled for us
spread blood of the lamb
Blood on the lintels, the threshold,
the door frame, the
entrance, the portal
around the chambers
of our hearts
protecting us
from the sins
of the world
That evil would pass us by
that your spirit within us
may defeat the kernel of sin
that shares that inner space,
that grows with the wheat
within us too,
from before our birth
It is the blood of the lamb
alone
that saves us
October 29, 2006 21:03
Exodus 12:7 They shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it. 8 They shall eat the lamb that same night; they shall eat it roasted over the fire with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. 9 Do not eat any of it raw or boiled in water, but roasted over the fire, with its head, legs, and inner organs. 10 You shall let none of it remain until the morning; anything that remains until the morning you shall burn. 11 This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly. It is the passover of the Lord. 12 For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike down every firstborn in the land of Egypt, both human beings and animals; on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. 13 The blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you live: when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt.
Psalm 51:5 Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me.
John 1:29 The next day he saw Jesus coming towards him and declared, ‘Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!
Hebrews 9:11 But when Christ came as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation), 12 he entered once for all into the Holy Place, not with the blood of goats and calves, but with his own blood, thus obtaining eternal redemption. 13 For if the blood of goats and bulls, with the sprinkling of the ashes of a heifer, sanctifies those who have been defiled so that their flesh is purified, 14 how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to worship the living God!
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,780+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
willingly spilled for us
spread blood of the lamb
Blood on the lintels, the threshold,
the door frame, the
entrance, the portal
around the chambers
of our hearts
protecting us
from the sins
of the world
That evil would pass us by
that your spirit within us
may defeat the kernel of sin
that shares that inner space,
that grows with the wheat
within us too,
from before our birth
It is the blood of the lamb
alone
that saves us
October 29, 2006 21:03
Exodus 12:7 They shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it. 8 They shall eat the lamb that same night; they shall eat it roasted over the fire with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. 9 Do not eat any of it raw or boiled in water, but roasted over the fire, with its head, legs, and inner organs. 10 You shall let none of it remain until the morning; anything that remains until the morning you shall burn. 11 This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly. It is the passover of the Lord. 12 For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike down every firstborn in the land of Egypt, both human beings and animals; on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. 13 The blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you live: when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt.
Psalm 51:5 Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me.
John 1:29 The next day he saw Jesus coming towards him and declared, ‘Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!
Hebrews 9:11 But when Christ came as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation), 12 he entered once for all into the Holy Place, not with the blood of goats and calves, but with his own blood, thus obtaining eternal redemption. 13 For if the blood of goats and bulls, with the sprinkling of the ashes of a heifer, sanctifies those who have been defiled so that their flesh is purified, 14 how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to worship the living God!
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,780+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
This Soul Cried Out
As He is so want to do,
the lectionary was blended
sharing a deeper message,
in the mixing of the words
the healing of spirits,
a moment of epiphany
known to very few,
needing to be proclaimed, shared
that He spoke through the words on my page
the words of Psalms, placed by her small hands, shared
in the hands of the beggar
the blind Bartimaeus, the messenger
of more wisdom
this morning.
At the end of a lesson, a children’s sermon
the meaning of the psalmist’s pen,
merged with images,
handed out to eager hands, then left
placed in the basket, the cup of the beggar
“This Soul Cried Out”, the words of that one verse
how right, how appropriate, how subtle
that this should be the page, out of the seventeen screens
the page that should land, purposely, in his lap
this morning, before the telling of his story
in the adult sermon
his healing, by his faith, the response from
the Word Made Flesh,
He cried out to the Son of David
And was healed
Just as the psalmist knew
So long ago.
I sought, He answered
October 29, 2006 15:03
Psalm 34:1-8 and Mark 10:46-52
Psalm 34:1 I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth. 2 My soul makes its boast in the Lord; let the humble hear and be glad. 3 O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together. 4 I sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears. 5 Look to him, and be radiant; so your faces shall never be ashamed. 6 This poor soul cried, and was heard by the Lord, and was saved from every trouble. 7 The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them. 8 O taste and see that the Lord is good; happy are those who take refuge in him.
Mark 10:46 They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” 50 So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. 51 Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” 52 Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
the lectionary was blended
sharing a deeper message,
in the mixing of the words
the healing of spirits,
a moment of epiphany
known to very few,
needing to be proclaimed, shared
that He spoke through the words on my page
the words of Psalms, placed by her small hands, shared
in the hands of the beggar
the blind Bartimaeus, the messenger
of more wisdom
this morning.
At the end of a lesson, a children’s sermon
the meaning of the psalmist’s pen,
merged with images,
handed out to eager hands, then left
placed in the basket, the cup of the beggar
“This Soul Cried Out”, the words of that one verse
how right, how appropriate, how subtle
that this should be the page, out of the seventeen screens
the page that should land, purposely, in his lap
this morning, before the telling of his story
in the adult sermon
his healing, by his faith, the response from
the Word Made Flesh,
He cried out to the Son of David
And was healed
Just as the psalmist knew
So long ago.
I sought, He answered
October 29, 2006 15:03
Psalm 34:1-8 and Mark 10:46-52
Psalm 34:1 I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth. 2 My soul makes its boast in the Lord; let the humble hear and be glad. 3 O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together. 4 I sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears. 5 Look to him, and be radiant; so your faces shall never be ashamed. 6 This poor soul cried, and was heard by the Lord, and was saved from every trouble. 7 The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them. 8 O taste and see that the Lord is good; happy are those who take refuge in him.
Mark 10:46 They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” 50 So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. 51 Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” 52 Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
All
of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004,
2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved.
Contact me at Ray
Foss for usage. See all 30,100+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
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