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Best Poems Written by Ellen Gwaltney Bales

Below are the all-time best Ellen Gwaltney Bales poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

Ode To a Gnat

Gnats, fruitflies, midges, black flies
What do you call them?
I call them pests.
Unwelcome guests
I call them demons from hell.
They fly past my face.
They go for my eyes.
Lucifer in disguise
They like my white screen
They’re like a bad dream
And they’re really no good
When they try for my food
Oh please go away
You devils so small
You MUST be gone
As summer turns into fall
I don’t want to see
You ‘round here again
Count your tiny selves warned
Go back whence you came
Go straight down the drain

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

Is It Me

Is it me?				
Is the breeze in a closed room
Just my imagination?
Is the whisper of my name
Only a fragment of a dream?
Is that soft brush
Against my shoulder
Your gentle touch?
Show me a sign.
Remember?
We talked about this.

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

With Apologies to Mister Poe

Late at night I hear their screeching,
Feel their evil arms outreaching
Like some minister a-preaching
In a temple made of light.
How my poor ears get to ringing, 
As a band of angels shrilly singing
On some lonely stretch of highway
In the night.
I think I hear the bells
Of a hundred thousand hells.
They won't allow me sleep,
Nor bless my soul to keep.
Oh, how they make me weep
As their awful midnight screaming
Keeps my fevered brain from dreaming.
I toss this way and that, 
Like a trapped and frightened bat
As it scrambles for the door
And croaks out: Nevermore!

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

Wind

It creeps around the corners	
It moans about the eaves		
A rapid fork of lightning		
Sparks beyond the trees		
My pulse gallops skyward		
As a sudden fear sets in		
The birds have ceased their chirping	
Will this madness never end?	
Oh, it makes my blood run cold	
To hear the gusting squall		
It creeps around the corners	
And sprints halfway down the hall	
Make it stop, make it stop,	
I can’t bear it anymore			
As a blast so strong			
Stabs at my very core			
Then morning dawns at last	
And the sun peeks out			
My breath again resumes		
Going in, going out
Until the restless night
Once more comes to call
Monstrous Zephyr from the West
Endlessly casts its pall

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

Ballad of the Senior Brigade

Well it’s one o’clock on a Tuesday
The regular crowd wanders in
There’s an old broad
Sittin’ next to me
Wonderin’ which room she’s in

She says, “Girl can you join me for bingo?
I don’t really like playin’ alone
But I’ll pay for your cards and a table
And oh yeah, turn off your phone"

Now Marge in the cafe is a friend of mine
She always brings chips for a treat
And she colors with pens and pulls up her Depends
But at three she goes upstairs to eat

She says, “Honey, this coloring’s killing me
My arthritis kicks up pretty bad
Well I’m sure that my hands would feel better
If I could just stay in my pad."

Oh, la, la-la, di-di-da
La-la di-di-da da-dum

Now Ellen is a would-be novelist
She writes things that I never read
And she’s talkin’ to Mary, who’s allergic to dairy
And swears that the roaches come here to breed.

And the manager practices jumping jacks
As the residents watch in the lobby
They’re sharing some punch
That’s left over from lunch
And they’re trying to find a new hobby

Sing us a song, you’re the Senior Brigade
Sing us a song right now
We have limited time to hear you
Cause we’re goin’ inside for some chow

It’s quite a large crowd for a Tuesday
And the manager sports a big grin
Cause she knows for a fact that it’s all been an act
And it’s really a prison we’re in

And the piano sounds like it’s out of tune
As the keyboardist tries to play
And the people sit at their tables
And say just look at Mabel
She’s talking about passing away

Oh, la, la-la, di-di-da
La la, di di dah, dah, dah

So crank up the tunes, we’ll play bingo
And who volunteers to call?
Let’s ask one-eyed Murray
Since we’re in no big hurry
He’s shy but he gives it his all

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

Ladies Who Lunch

Who are these women
Who sit here three times a year
Sipping their tea with pinkies extended?
Once it was five times a year.
Five lunches shared.
Five birthdays come and gone.
Now two have gone forever
And they were the most fun!
One had a laugh—childlike and contagious.
The other liked to dish the dirt and saw all the latest films.
No one talks about them much anymore.
But they did exist.
    I’m sure of it.

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

Another Deadly Sin

Jealousy in senior citizens
Is an ugly thing
It’s childish, it’s petty,
It has a negative ring
For elderly women, make no mistake
In certain surroundings
There’s quite an outbreak
And don’t they look silly
With their petulant smiles
As they pose and they preen
Like noxious reptiles!
The venom they spew, why, it’s unladylike
Overheard was this gentleman:
“Girl, take a hike!”
We don’t want you around,
Say the popular guys
But they simply can’t help it
They draw them like flies
So here is a warning, a word to the wise
If old ladies don’t watch it
They may recognize
That they haven’t a clue
How to compete for the prize.
Let them be jealous, let them talk trash
They only look foolish
But they’re due for a crash
‘Cause nobody likes them
We think they’re absurd
Their ugliest nature
Is more than inferred
Drop the act, ladies, give it a rest
The men are all saying
You’re the worst kind of pest

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

I Am a Prisoner Here

I am a prisoner here,
Though I have no bars to contain me,
No chains to restrain me,
Nor any crime to detain me.
My only offense is being old,
A fact that frankly
Leaves me cold.
They say these years 
Are golden,
But it isn’t so.
How do I know?
You ask, perplexed.
I just do, I answer,
Feeling slightly vexed.
And yet, and yet . . .
Oh let me out,
Let me out, I say!
Out of this prison, 
If just for a day.
I’ll be good, I promise I will.
I’ll follow the rules.
I do know the drill!
It may sound absurd
But I give you my word.
I truly have done my time.
Sometimes I wonder if
Anything’s left
But time.

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

A Real Technology Expert

I am not technically challenged
I am merely being tested
Well, that’s my story anyway
There are those who would beg to differ
So let them
Who cares?
I may not know all there is to know
About computers
About streaming
About smart phones
Who says they’re so smart?
They don’t impress me much
I once threatened 
To throw mine in the river
For being so stupid
Damn Android
More like hemorrhoid
If you ask me
Meaning pain in the you know what
Give me back my Princess model
Preferably in pink or turquoise
And with a rotary dial
I bet I can get one on Amazon

Details | Ellen Gwaltney Bales Poem

Lifetimes

How long is a lifetime?
They say it lasts
From birth to death
But is that really true?
Mine has surely been long
Centuries, at least
Or have I been here
Just a few months?
A few moments.
It all happened so fast
Age six seems like only
Seconds have passed
Age sixty was an eon ago
Perhaps when I’m 
Dead and gone
I’ll be back
For another go