Lithe lime faerie was a cousin to Lucy Lemon.
They were both young girls, only six or seven.
Flying in tandem, showing the garden their scents.
The were both lovely, most said heaven-sent.
"So friendly, and so true. That was our Lucy Loo" By poet
Dear sweet Lucy Loo, how I’m missing you.
It’s tragic that we had to let you go,
but it was something that we had to do.
Someone else will love you, and this I know
because you have such sweet and loving ways.
When I first saw you, I was captured by
your beautiful brown eyes. You used to gaze
at me with those cute eyes. It makes me sigh
recalling how you used to lick my face.
Those doggy kisses never bothered me.
Recently I gave you my last embrace.
Your precious face no longer will I see.
May you be fostered soon; you are a pet,
dear Lucy Loo, I never will forget.
I had not heard from my friend Lucy for several months
She had not responded to the last three texts I sent.
I texted her this morning “are you okay?”
A typed transcript came back this afternoon.
Three months ago she was loading groceries into her car.
When she turned to get her purse, it had been stolen from the cart.
She does not have any phone numbers memorized or written down.
Stealing a woman’s purse has to be the work of a snake.
This is a low-down-selfish-mean thing to do.
And has caused her much angst.
I telephoned her house line and left a message.
Telling her my phone number.
Then I called some mutual friends.
They are doing the same thing.
We cannot fix what the snake did, but we can try to help.
Her skirts lands against her springy step in a pretty way
Swirling around her luscious legs with an extra sway
She’s an old- fashioned woman, our Linda Lucy May Kay
Wearing silky nylon hose nearly every single day
Sailors all along the channel and down the bay
Will testify to what I have observed and now say
Her swishy skirts often lead their old eyes to stray
She is a snazzy dresser, our gorgeous Linda Lucy May Kay.
Sprucy Lucy watering blooms
As pooch lounges, the kitten grooms
Each sprout peaks out toward the sun
Rising in vibrant hues who’ll stun
Lucy speaks sweetly to the pup
As she watches kitty act up
Picking bright flowers, just for fun
Rising in vibrant hues who’ll stun
Sprucy Lucy loves Summer’s buds
Watering each shoot til’ it floods
Her friends know she can’t be outdone
Rising in vibrant hues who’ll stun
Picture Prompt Four
Her name is, Lucy
Her twin is Ricky
He is green with Envy
Because I’ve left him behind
There’s no ‘splainin’ to do
Nothing more to pursue
I just simply knew
All I could do was sigh
She purrs like a kitten
I was totally smitten
When my eyes
First upon her
Did lie
My thoughts preoccupied
By my diamond in the sky
Our twin stars aligned
Hers and mine
This union well-timed
We’ll ride the highlands and the low
Oh the places we’ll go
The curves and the bends
Wherever life sends
Us
To venture with flair and gusto
Together as one
At once I’m undone
I love Lucy
No more to see
Or say
What a wonder you are!
A gift from the universe,
The practical one.
Always so poised
Even when afraid
You are your mother’s child
Always knowing what you want
And getting what you need.
Your star will never burn out.
In your quest to succeed
There was never a question.
A friend, a daughter, and more
Now a bride, beautiful in lace.
My heart swells with pride and love.
Kept her malady a secret from the suiters who were smitten was Lucy Lee.
She rapidly dives from insanely happy to a blubbering withering sad little me.
Keep it to yourself her parents told her sisters and brothers and often too.
They wanted to get her married off, and sent off to Detroit, Miami or Timbuktu.
Lucy was an outgoing miss, as introverted as a wallboard in a cupboard.
She could go from zero to sixty in a flash said her neighbor Mrs. J. Hubbard.
The suiters who dated her more than once fled as if chased by a gator.
The one whose mother acted the same crazy way, married Lucy Lee later.
Lucy is down by the old pond again tonight
Dancing with her giant rodent by the moonlight
They are a truly familiar loving sight
To the cattails and stars that gleam so bright
It just isn’t the best thing, it is not quite right!
Says her grandma, who has always been uptight.
Her parents roll their eyes and turn off their light.
Having no qualms about their daughter, not even slight.
Come on over Ted said groovy Lucy
For tonight I’m feeling nice and juicy
Ted appeared unclothed
With assets exposed
For the sake of a strawberry smoothie.
In the Sun gold land of grass
Lambs and sheep therest they graze
Lucy wandered first in lanes
Then she in the meadow gazed
Wherest children ran and play
By the Grove of willow tree
faster than the starry fays
To the noisy field she flee
Children laugh therest and play
It was but a heaven's scene
Rarest wonder of the world
Was wonder of Echoing green
Little Lucy's shining eyes
Caught the scene of butterflies
Ran she so that she may catch
Nature's Fancy honeyed eyes
Ran she up then ran she down
By the hedge where kittens play
In the foggy eve in meadow
Little Lucy lost the way
Moaned she watching her shadow
In the timorous dusky ray
Not a single person she saw
By the garden rusty door
On the windy unseen sea
saw
Rowan leaves without oar
Yelled she louder than ever
By the margin of the pond
Hoping that her mom may hear
May Santa come with mighty wand
Came her mother from behind
And she in her arms her hold
Little daughter you art fairy
You are thy mamma s soul
Listen never go thou out
All alone on lonesome way
In the woods are fierce shadows
Wander therest then and sway
Elsie, Lucy, Olive, this small boy's remarkable old aunts.
Oh, how they rubbed their hands.
But with glee or sorrow? Or even anger?
Elsie had a strict-looking expression -
when not rubbing her hands.
Lucy wore spectacles that pinched her nose
and, oh, had such a thin smile -
when not rubbing her hands.
Olive seemed serious, often frowning at me -
when not rubbing her hands.
But when they were rubbing their hands
they were ridding those hands of
flour that helped to make a cake or of
flour that helped to make a Yorkshire pudding or of
flour that helped to make joy -
the joy of making that cake or that Yorkshire pudding;
or of spiteful expressions they might wear when sneering
at this small boy, who would have to eat
their cakes or their Yorkshire pudding, or absorb
their sneers - sneers that were also smiles.
We remember our aunts in
the most remarkable ways.
I was a small boy.
(April 2023)
(Elsie appears in two other poems: "Aunty Elsie's Bathroom" and "Coronation for a King")
There is jazzy twirling activity down at the Beggar’s bog
Dancing and whirling by the lucky horse shoe frog
We see it happening, and we think St. Paddy’s Day
Frog does a Celtic Irish clog dance that blows us away.
Is there anybody out there
Going to listen to my story
It's all about a girl
Who ran away
She changed her name from Lorie Loo
To Lucy Lorie
Because everyone knew
The dirty games she'd play
She would find a man and love him
For his money
And tell them they would stay together
For evermore
But then she'd steal their riches
And she'd bury them in ditches
Then she'd run away and change her name
Again, once more
So, they called her Lucy Lorie
But she was really Lorie Loo
And her reputation as a crook
Had really grown
But there's truth about Ms. Lorie
In this fact-based fiction story
Yes, there's really women out there
That have been known
My feline’s eyes reflect her ginger hues.
She follows my man everywhere she can.
Her tracking sight chases away the blues.
But when squirrels discovered her, they ran.
She travels with us, a definite plus.
She likes to go fast, so step on the gas.
She ignores all limits. Yes, cats can cuss!
She likes to fish, quietly, wait for bass.
A middle-aged cat can still be a brat.
She gnaws on my cord like something abhorred.
But a yell from the man cancels all that.
With an innocent look, she drops the cord.
A cat in the house trumps any old mouse.
All her checks done, she’s asleep on my blouse.
Related Poems