By Dennis Patton

IT’S POSSIBLE

To run along the river banks And dream while you’re awake To fall madly in love

To cry when you look into Someone’s else’s eyes

To love yourself

To be positive when someone Is negative

To right a wrong

To call your best friend To admit when you’re wrong To laugh uncontrollably

To say, “I love you.”

—Jessica Gray Benton

COME FLY WITH ME

When I was just a kid in country school, Aladdin’s Carpet beckoned and I flew across the sky so high I felt the cool vibrations of the world where poems grew.

I breathed the rhythm floating through the air above pink-frosted clouds. The melody of velvet words kept whispering a prayer repeating softly, “You can fly with me.” Then, back to earth; to listen with my heart; to taste my baby’s tears; to write, revise and study hard to learn poetic art. To offer people-poetry with pride, just grab a magic carpet. Take a ride!

—Verna Lee Hinegardner Former Poet Laureate

THE PERIL OF DRINK

A ventriloquist found drink yummy And, thus, soon became a rummy Which turned out quite sad

For he was so bad

That he made less sense than his dummy.

— Howard Nobles Deceased

A METAPHOR

The mighty tree stands alone, battered and beat.

It’s stood the winter’s bitter cold, and the summer’s brutal heat. But someday it, too, will fall, as all have done before.

It’s roots still run deep and anchor it in place.

It still sings, as the wind blows through its branches and waves to all with its leaves in the soft, summer breeze.

It has provided shade and shelter for those below but the weather and time has taken its toll.

Too soon, it will be gone, with few to remember.

So, spread out a blanket and enjoy while you can.

Tell others and family of this once great, kind man.

— John Zylma Benton

DON’T TELL ME WHEN I’M OLD I’M PRETTY SURE I’LL KNOW

How can I cram myself into that mold Reserved for those in aging ladyhood When I have yet to feel the pangs of “old”?

But those who know my birthdate think I should.

They say that I should act more dignified

And please don’t try to cross the street alone.

Do watch your step and don’t lift heavy things

And God forbid that you should break a bone.

Well, I’m not ready for the rocking chair, Although I will accept it graciously When I get old -- like crowding ninetynine.

But until then, BUTT OUT and let me be me.

— Faye Boyette Wise Deceased — Pat Laster Benton HAIKU

blue jay alone at the feeder eating rejected seeds

To submit poems for publication, please send poems of 16 or fewer lines to Dennis Patton, 2512 Springhill Circle, Alexander, AR 72002, or patton_dr@hotmail.com.