Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Friday, June 12, 2015

Doggerel In Dog Years

Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard
to do some emotional eating
because her heart may be famous but it isn't the same as
one loved face, and besides, fame is fleeting.

When she got there, the cupboard was bare,
as was her hope chest, her basement and her attic
because translations are poems whose language is frayed
and the local station only plays jingles and static.

Swing low, sweet Fido,
and give a girl a kiss when she needs one
because the ghosts don't care when she puts it all out there,
still she knows a friend in need when she sees one.

Four and twenty Milk Bones baked into a pie
and a pint of mint chocolate chip by silver spoon
cannot assuage the way a girl feels sometimes
but we can dream of running beneath a sweeter faster moon

through the kind of night where our love is coming home
under expansive easy stars and southern skies.

because I was missing someone.

image at top by Edward Gorey.  


  1. I love your labels as much as the poem....especially ice cream crone. I know that missing, kiddo. Do I ever. A delight to read this tonight. Now I am about to kiss the dog good night and curl up with a book. Sigh. If I lived closer, we could howl at the moon together.

  2. That opening quartet is a cut gem

    ALOHA from Honolulu,

  3. This is sweet as mint chocolate chip!

  4. This made me miss my dogs all gone to greener pastures. I really like how you included the well known lines and made them a seamless part of your stanzas.

  5. Sometimes just the memories and the presence in the heart forever doesn't seem like enough without the kisses. And ice cream is comforting, but cold. The rhymes make this feel like a lullaby to me, one we sing when we are trying to rock ourselves to sleep. Your tags (and puns) made me smile.

  6. the sweetest of poems can still cut to the heart's core. ice cream crone. might have to remember that one. :)


Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?