Sleeping Volcano
puffing anger way back in an ancient world
deep blue waters cooled her
once fiery breast in a crystal lake
now a modern, transformed girl
a National Park of tourists
bicyclers and hikers
quiet, peaceful, serene
only whistling wind and crunching boots
nighttime
she awakens from her dreams
a roaring memory haunts the forests
as orange ash spirits ascend from Crater Lake to heaven
1/11/19
Sleeping Volcano Poetry Contest Given by Eve Roper NA
I watched them spread the checkered cloth
To picnic in my yard;
Two bicyclers resting from the pace
Of pedaling so hard.
My Susie went to greet them.
I saw them share their lunch
With this sweet dog who wagged her tail
And matched them, munch for munch.
They didn’t see me peeping
From my window by myself.
They didn’t know the memories
I had tucked upon a shelf,
The memories that came tumbling down
From that tall hiding place.
They brought with them a picture of
My lost love’s laughing face,
Of bicycles of the long ago
When we would, just as they,
Go pedaling with a picnic lunch
On Spring’s first sunny day.
I watched them spread the checkered cloth
To picnic in my yard,
Two bicyclers resting from the pace
Of pedaling so hard.
My Susie went to greet them.
I saw them share their lunch
With this sweet dog who wagged her tail
And matched them munch for munch.
They didn't see me peeping
From my window by myself.
They didn't know the memories
I had tucked upon a shelf.
The memories that came tumbling down
From that tall hiding place.
They brought with them a picture
Of my lost love's laughing face.
And of bicycles of the long ago,
When we would, just as they,
Go pedaling with a picnic lunch
On Spring's first sunny day.
By: Joyce 2005