Sunday, December 3, 2017

Poem From An Old Notebook    (transcribed 11-17)

I sorted through old dreams the other day
Wishes I had laid away,
Wrapped in resignation, tied with prayer,
Put aside, though once they seemed so fair.
It's easier to see them now as past
Unmarked by how I held them fast
And fiercely tried to make them all come true
Their promise now I can subdue.
But you, oh God, you saw them too,
And what I could not know, you knew,
The grace or pain, my gain, or lack,
I learn anew to let them be
And yet once more leave them with thee.

Thursday, August 3, 2017



The river proceeds with single purpose- moving on!
One might wish to learn the secret of determination
From such quiet water here, soon to be transformed
And forced to leap against rocks and varied banks.
Undaunted, it will carry on to bring the surf the mountain's kiss
Gentle now but in its depths a heart not meant to sleep.
It has a rendezvous to keep.

August 2017
Written at Brian & Donna's place- 'on the river'.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

At Four AM- October 99

Venus
Hangs in the morning sky
thrilling the drowsy eye
that lets lingering go of sleep.
Closing lids suspect the dawn
Struggle to open again upon 
That gathered gleam that ends the night.
It's there!
Kindling dreams 
in the clear morning air.

revision of 11-5-2000

Sunday, September 14, 2014

August Morning 8-14

The deck is cool today.
The sun seems busy elsewhere.
So coffee is my 
Companion at the table, 
And I leave the door 
A bit ajar to 
Accommodate the cat.

Outside, the breeze is playing
Hide and seek among the leaves
Where squirrels play.
They sometimes seem to say
"You come too!".

a most recent work from the pen of
G.B.P. She's got bits and pieces in the 
hopper, so check back.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

A new poem from Mom

A simple addiction

Coffee is such a bad habit.
The color poses as appetizing
Even with cream and sugar for some.
A wake up choice for early morning
Or lagging lunch.
Perhaps dessert will be
the perfect touch
At dinner's end
With brandy added
Or Irish cream.
Somewhere in the world
A small bean grows
And, harvested,
becomes your drug 

Geraldine B Porter
4-6-14

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Lemon Meringue


Lemon Meringue
 
               Awakens a memory as bright
 
                   as yellow and white
 
walls, and flowers, and 

flowers on the dresses  

that I wore when I was young.

Delicious is  only a word, until  

it bursts from an oven
 
And comes to rest in remembrance

On my tongue.
 
                                 GBP    612/ll
 
 
 

Thursday, February 3, 2011

My Teacher


The sun, just above the  horizon,
Leaves only a pale yellow wash in the evening sky.
An airplane makes a sound that fades away.
I think it is a holy night, that if
I dared, I'd stay to see the darkened sky
Lit with stars, and constellations hidden by the sun in day,
And listen, look and seek the answer
to the sometimes silence of my planet earth.
The dog in the yard below speaks up.
The frogs stop.  A pause. A solitary bark.
The cat has gone to seek out the secrets of the shadows.
And I, lonely for my teacher who no longer shares with me each day,
Feel  his presence, his joy in living, and put my fears away.

GBP
2011