Excerpt
Apple Orchard
White as popcorn, was the treeAnd underneath it on the leaA little goat looked up at me.
Bright and wicked was his glanceIn that orchard's sweet expanseIn a mocking sort of danceMoved his hooves.
He was Pan, and he was SpringWith a sudden saucy springOff he flew . . .Just a shadow in the air . . .Was he really ever there?
For all Ear-Pinners
There are some peopleWho delightIn pinning people's earsBack tight.I'd love to be on handThat dayWhen things work outThe other way!
To Snow … or Not to Snow!
Feather down soft deep snowFeather down . . . I implore you.The part of me that's PoetSimply adores you!The part of me that's "working girl"Equally abhors you!Snow is like thistledownFiligree-ing trees:But waiting for street cars . . .It's wet ankles andKnees!
Counsel
Heart, be very cautious nowRemember . . . once beforeLove was like a bright room . . .Then a slammed door!
In a Fit of Pique
If you have not learned to give proudlyDo not prate to me of "love"!There are those, who as childrenClutch tight the bottom, of the candy-bagSaying "Help yourself"But making very sureThe gift is limited.These children grow up to beStingy lovers.I have no patience with them!
It Doesn't Matter
It doesn't matter much to meAbout a person's family treeOr what his special vices areOr if he drives a custom carOr if his Clubs are old and formalAs long as he is nice and normal!
Sherry
Sherry . . . twinkling in a little glassWarm as snared sunlightA pool of golden lightTo make a flight of dreams.(I can see your eyesTwinkling back at the Sherry.Merry as all "get out"!)Even when I am a very ancient ladyAnd the decanter goes roundI shall remember you with a sweet shock . . .I'll be bound!
Last of the Line
Ah, primitive and hardyOur fathers were . . . of old . . .But even on my brightest daysI can't quite shower . . . cold!
Teen Age
They talk of sooper dooper thingsAnd wear each other's pins and rings.They swim and dance and ski and smokeAnd get a bang from lemon coke.
Play records . . . speak of Dizz and DukeAnd dance wherever there's a Juke.Chameleon-like, they change and varyAnd suddenly grow up . . . and marry!
Top Toad
He always said:"I'd rather be deadThan be a small toad in a big puddle.I like the huddle and power I have in a small town" . . .Then, (with a black frown)"I prefer to be a big toad in a little puddle"!The only thing that struck youAs you watched his steam-roller tactics down his narrow roadHe'd somehow . . . begun to resemble his own model . . .The big toad!
War Weary
Some ladies love to sleep aloneIn solitary stateChaste . . . unruffled and serene:This . . . I . . . hate!
Ice-Steria
Whenever it is "three below"I wish myself in MexicoOr dancing with a HottentotOr anywhere where I am not!
Aftermath
After holiday foodI feel so hell-ryI long to subsist On tea and cel'ry!
Moot Question
Why is itWhen the wind blowsI get a red noseSome gals get all dewy-eyedAnd fresh ....