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Fonda Anne Poem
Cereal Kid-napper…
One who randomly texts’ you
Do you want to be kidnapped today,
And apologizes when running late.
You are picked up willing and able-
No duct tape or zip ties are needed.
Instead she brings…
Banana bread or cookies
And sometimes cake.
The kids are stuck in back—
Saying Hello—Auntie Merri…
Even before I can open the door,
It is the greatest thing.
Buckled up---off we go—running errands,
Forgetting our coupons—losing the keys—(not me).
Somehow we manage to get things done,
Even though we do not know the day of the week.
Someone is hungry—(not the kids).
If we be good--She may get us a treat,
When our errands are done.
Then you are returned, safely back home,
With a tentative date of the next time
You will be kidnapped by your favorite niece.
Copyright © Merri-Merri/fonda anne….
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2015
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Fonda Anne Poem
July is here, the Rain is pouring down.
The Nets are set…the Fish on the way.
No matter what the weather or how much sleep they do not get,
My family gives their all Every Tide—Every Pick--Even Tired & Wet—
Summers are not spent on vacations and trips,
Fourth of July celebrations, we miss.
No Reality TV---No fame or fortune here.
Just our own fishing parade--full of good cheer.
Entries include-a Crew that works hard--with the meaning of True Grit.
Skiffs that were made with much care—
In hopes they will float--when filled with more than air.
We celebrate every season with the mending of Nets.
Some years the fish—--Well, they worry us a bit.
But whatever happens—My family will be there year after year.
It is just who they are and just what they do.
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2015
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Fonda Anne Poem
I rake Poop-a-Lilies
In the spring-
In the fall-
From the words of Kid Rock
All summer long…
They come in many shapes
And all kinds of sizes.
I must step with care,
Poop-a-Lilies, are everywhere…
If you look at the right moment,
When a new snow falls,
You cannot see
A Poop-a-Lili insight,
Everything is all pretty and white.
But when the melting begins,
They show up in layers.
And it just never ends.
No Greenhouse I have
To make anything grow.
I will rake Poop-a-Lilies in the rain and
Sometimes the snow…
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao….
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2015
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Fonda Anne Poem
Fried Eggs Sandwiches and
A friend go hand in hand.
If you need an alibi I will be there.
If you need a body moved, I am your girl.
If you need a hole dug, you’re on your own.
But-- I will hold the light and make us
Fried egg sandwiches in the moonlight.
Thanks for being my friend...
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2015
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Fonda Anne Poem
It is All about the Cooper
The Super Duper Cooper.
A Baller with a Shock Collar.
Fast--So very, very fast.
He never wants to stop.
A jump so high & graceful,
He Twist & Turns to catch that ball.
He applied for short stop,
But no dogs allowed in baseball.
That is not fair--he whined from afar.
Life is pretty good for Cooper,
As he waits all day for Pa to come
& Play Ball
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2015
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Fonda Anne Poem
Once upon a time…
I said- oh no, Never would I have one.
But I was kissed by a Pit Bull & he stole my heart.
Really he is so very sweet.
I just say to uneducated people,
I am sorry you are a racist that is too bad.
I remind myself, that people taught other people
To believe this way.
Our adorable, loveable babies are just victims that way.
Every race holds unkind people and any dog can do wrong.
But it is the Pities who pay, for the Humans--cruel ways.
Someday, people won’t be so judgmental.
Don’t hold your breath, it may take a long time.
This world is a mess,
Till then we try to help the humans learn.
We will walk with our heads held high and
Our Pit-Bulls by our side
To protect them from those evils of mankind.
I kissed a Pit-Bull and I liked it—Try it sometime.
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2015
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Fonda Anne Poem
Are You Really My Mother…
Was it so awful that you would not take a second chance.
Was it so horrific that you cannot get past it.
Did you try…Did you just bury it inside.
It had to be the hardest thing.
Did you know--A secret trade was made.
Just so I could find you one day.
I was told you wanted that…me to find you, one day.
That was wrong or over time you changed your mind.
Dad said he has seen you and you cried…did he lie.
I have learned that you tried.
I always wondered about that day so long ago.
The day you never showed.
I do not know what I would have done in your shoes.
It is ok…I understood…what a frightening thing.
What I don’t understand is the letter, cold and rude letter.
The envelope, I know where you are--yet I stay away.
Your tone, the words--You should have just not replied.
So frozen and cold--Quite Rude…shame on you.
It is better that I have nothing to do with you.
That is fine, it is your lose not mine.
I am done with the searching and hoping and wishing.
I have a story to tell and I will own it and share it.
I was born Fonda and there is Moore to Me…
Love always,
Your first daughter
Fonda
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2015
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Fonda Anne Poem
Do Not Open the Door-
Merely because someone or something is on the other side.
There is no—Back to the Future...
NO redo’s’—cannot always simply just close the door.
Once it is open, nothing stays the same.
Nothing is forever…but there are no take backs also.
Take caution in who and what you let through the door…
Think for yourself… trust yourself…
You must stay your course and not wavier…
When the doorbell dings…Pause a moment and think.
Peepholes are good—peek--see—think…
Don't open the door to strangers and things…
Trust your gut…what you know…
Remember those your mama warned you about…
You can always stand quiet---let them leave…they will
Proceed with caution and care--Be very careful before you
Unlock the deadbolt -- unlatch the chain… Turn the knob…
Is it your Density or your Demise…
Knocking on the other side---
…back to the future… 10-21-2015…the movie…
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2016
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Fonda Anne Poem
Mary-Mary, quite contrary, her garden does not grow.
There is no dirt, there is no fence---Not a greenhouse of any color.
Mary-Mary had a few little lambs, but they ran away from home.
Even though they are grown--She misses them so…
Mary-Mary has twin grand boys that she has never seen.
When she does, she will be so grateful and never want them to leave.
Mary-Mary is not so happy-happy,
Everywhere around is so sad.
There is nothing she can do, so she sits at home,
Eating split pea soup and no pie--
One day things will be calm again…
Till then… She is stuck and wonders what the heck--
How did things end up this way…
Damn it, I have no coffee creamer--
Things change and the dark clouds hovering over.
Somehow, some way you have to push through it.
Mary-Mary has her doggies, two--they will all be fine.
They are sweet…and silly…and keep her Company—
Licking her tears and reminding her to fetching the mail.
They take turns resting by her side and keeping one eye on the road.
“Crosbiee-- the Bumble Bee” Comes to visit and play.
And as long as they have Puperonies everyday--
Things will be ok… Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2015
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Fonda Anne Poem
Instead of breathing air--It is tears I take in.
I can feel them, taste them.
How does one taste their tears…
They slip down your throat when
One weeps on the inside all day.
It has been so long since I heard his voice
I repeat in my head, his last words I heard,
I am afraid I will forget.
“Mama, I love you--I am not going to die.”
I think what we would do if that call came…
No planning a family vacation, a graduation,
There will be no exciting baby announcements
Or wedding invitations
Instead, I wonder will we have a service... No… No…
We will not--
Because in the end it is only us that care.
We will not share you anymore.
Those so called friends will go on with their lives.
They will tell stories of what a bad ass you were
And how you were too cool for school.
They will say words, but will not feel the pain.
Nope--they just keep getting high--as if nothing has changed.
Omg-If they knew we may cremate you,
They would ask if they could smoke you.
Yeah--that is what such good high friends do.
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Copyright © Fonda Anne | Year Posted 2015
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