Poe's Poetry

Nerve Wrecking


you sit upon your perch
staring down at me
saying nary a thing
as silent as can be
staring always staring
leaving me all alone
to wait day in and day out
for a noise from the telephone

Wind Woman


The wind is like a woman,
floating through the skies
and when she softly whispers,
a gentle breeze blows by.
When the wind is angry,
she opens her mouth and yells.
Her breath becomes a hurricane
and her story it then tells.
Her hair it flows like wispy clouds.
Her skin it shines so bare.
Her eyes are as blue as a clear sky.
Her body is the air.
She lives a life of solitude,
so gentle yet so fierce.
Remember the WIND WOMAN,
when your skin the wind does pierce.

The House Next Door


The grass is two feet high in the yard.
The rail bye the steps is falling apart.
The paint is peeling from weather and time
but the cement steps they look just fine.
The window in the front is broke
and the half hung mailbox is a joke.
I look and stare and look somemore
at our old house, then the one next door.
Across the street there's flowers in bloom
and theres a little fishpond lagoon.
They've got shutters and lacy curtains.
Their paint looks new, its fresh I'm certain.
Their mailbox is hung straight and neat
and there's no tall grass to hide your feet.
But there's never anyone across the street.
They work from dusk till dawn all week.
Our mom is home most all the time
and that suits us kids just fine.

Little Dragon


There was a little dragon,
who had no wings to fly.
He walked on the ground and all around,
as others passed him by.
The other dragons they had wings
of blue and red and gold.
They flew near the warm sun ,
while little dragon was cold.
They called him bad names,
and made fun of him each day.
They didn't take the time to know him,
as they hurried on their way.
Then one night the angels came,
and took little dragon home.
They put wings upon his back,
so through the clouds he'd roam.
Little dragon was happy,
as he floated through the air,
and no one made fun of him,
while he was way up there.