Can you smell the fresh cut grass
caught to your bare soles
from fast climbing berry hills
chasing long-legged foals

Can you hear their haughty chuffs
ears set flicking round
as they catch our cheery calls
and come trotting down

Can you feel their braided manes
with azalea ties
color to their cocoa hair
worn and proudly prized

Can you see the lightning bugs
flashing round their hide
shining courage in our path
as forward fast we ride

Can you taste the equine dreams
in flavors freshly spiced
with textures rough and tempting
a fleeting paradise

© EMMI LAWRENCE (8.10.2018)

I wrote you a poem of rhythm and rhyme

A small little piece filled with capers and crimes

I fed you red herrings and snippets of clues

Plus suspects most foul I whittled to few

You read every word and thought that you knew

The murder committed, the how of it too

You played along nicely, your guesswork divine

And though I tricked you, you had a great time 

© EMMI LAWRENCE (5.13.2018)

In between the busy days

of catching trains and bills to pay

of looming deadlines kept at bay

by flurried habits come to stay

that drag us from our youth most gay

and teach us numbing, awful ways

to cope, to handle lives of grey

that never should have been okay

 ~

In between those busy days

your call, your voice flies me away

from deadlines, habits must obeyed

to lightened moments lit by rays

of soulful joy that makes me say

you always lead my thoughts astray

for when you call, the greyness fades

and life transcends beyond okay

© EMMI LAWRENCE (5.19.2017)

Footsteps echoed on that path
and strident voices screamed,
yet when I crossed beneath the eaves
not all was as it seemed.

For empty was the entrance
and the corridor beyond.
All that moved within that gloom
were opinions right or wrong.

They flew on wings of torrid air
and cried their thoughts aloft,
a cacophony of scorching sound
and winners missing oft.

I listened to the arguments
debates in endless rounds
circling within that hall
no solutions in those sounds.

Temptation grew within my breast
to join the deafening heights
becoming one with all that air,
a soldier for those fights.

Then came a tread upon the walk,
another just like me
coming to investigate
that loud cacophony.

She stood within the doorway
looking up within that gloom,
then glanced at me with little care
before she left the room.

I followed in explicit wonder
that the shouts she did not feed
and found her kneeling in the garden
tearing out the weeds.

For what is better, I don’t know,
but I did know which I liked
for the noisy heated air inside
did not change the real fight.