I have spent eight hoursOn my porchTodaySo farAnd in that timeI have observedSo many carpenter beesWorking the redbudsChesterChasing the carpenter beesExcept he can’t flySo he falls off the porchTally twoRobinsRound with eggsDovesSingles and severals Crows flappingHawks glidingAnd I swear that tree has gotten greener While I sat hereMr. Jenkins tilling his garden spotYes it’s Sunday But I think he enjoys itMany vehiclesWith windows downAnd arms outI approveClouds gently sliding across the skyWest to EastSo many airplanesAnd LifestarI have had two wardrobe changesAnd now under my t-shirt quiltI wanted to spray weedsBut I’m secretly relievedThe weather has been too chillyI have only sneezed once Even though everything is yellowI have drank a lot of waterAnd wondered about putting sunscreenOn my handsAnd my foreheadI do not want a repeat Surgical procedure I did not read my book again I did not do laundryI just sat with the beesAnd thoughtA haiku would be easier ~From Winnie the Pooh, by A.A. Milne I eat my peas with honeyI’ve done it all my lifeIt makes the peas taste funnyBut it keeps them on the knife! Love from Appalachia, ~Amy…

To write a poem in five minutesIs a skill I do not possess Just like simple mathOr complicated mathOr any mathBut fortunately math skillsAre not on display Like grammatical onesAnd so I will tell youOf my evening At the roping penThe first one this yearAnd it was not too hot And it was not too coldUntil it wasAnd I had to teeteeOf the twenty ridersThere were two in blue sweatshirtsOne horse who flipped completely backwardsRiderless, thank GodA dozen lazy No countCounterfeit SteersAnd I smiled About a horse deal that could not be madeBecause the horse in questionWas bought for $300Made $3000And he was offered $1000Then $1500 in the next breathThere was hesitationBut he liked his little horseI wondered what the sorrel mare thoughtAbout being talked about Right thereHer future in their handsShe blinked Her intelligent eyeAnd didn’t move muchI wondered if her mouth hurtOr if her saddle pad felt okay And if she likes doing what she doesOr if she’d rather be a trail horseBut mares don’t talkAnd the deal wasn’t struckAnd I think everybody was relievedUntil the horse who was upside downTried his trick againAnd I remembered a black filly I once hadNamed OctaviaWho broke everything Including my foot So third go lasted six secondsAnd Waffle House was my futureDiced and coveredAnd the perfect waffleFrom a genuine Waffle House waitress Sparkling personality But less than ideal teethAnd her storyWhich you never know But you have to listenWhile you eat your waffleAnd wonder what life decisions…