She shivers as he puts his hand on her forehead.

Ma, you have a fever, he says
and pulls up her blanket.

She closes her eyes to hold back tears.

it's your touch, son, her lips hardly move,
like rain on my arid heart, long awaited,

streams of films roll in her head,
the baby, skin of her skin, blood of her blood,
the umbilical cord never separated,
severed as the baby grew up,
a man of another woman,
the expanding distance
huddling all those cuddles into memories.

It's your touch, my son, it heals.

The son rises to call a doctor.

She knows she has no fever,
only pains of sweet memories.

Standing tall rooted to the ground
We watch the world go by
witnessing many happy sights
And some that make us cry

So many secrets do we hold
Locked in silence never told
We can be bought
We can be sold
And just like you We too get old


At times we change when seasons end
On rain and sun.
We must depend
Till We're felled by those
Who're not a friend

They cut us down with chain and saw
Believing  we do not feel
But that's not true
We hurt like you
as scientists
Have revealed

Our roots connect to others
We warn of harm or threat
We have the greatest of respect
For those we've never met

We're here to  serve a purpose
Not just for paper
Or for wood
So please help to preserve us
Our intentions are all good

Next time when you pass us by
Don't think it's just a tree ?
As without us theres no life force
We provide the air
You breathe ................

If only, we were young again
For those days, will ever remain
In our thoughts, and memory

We were young and fair
Most things we would dare
And not, have much of a worry

Friends were easily made
Differences, didn’t make us afraid
Always eager, to strangers query

The problems seemed lighter
The nights were much brighter
While we, basked in all our glory

We could run and sing
Do almost anything
Were more carefree and merry

Oh the things that we dared
And never got scared
We were naive, but never wary

We were taught not to tease
Always say please
And to work, never tarry

Our friends were more fun
We got much more done
But not, in much of a hurry

Disappointments were rare
Life seemed more fair
Everything was, just hunky dory

The grass was greener
The air so much cleaner
We were neither, liberal nor tory

The jokes were funnier
The days far sunnier
And the movies, not as gory

The air was fresher then
Can you remember when
We played, and were never sorry

For the things that we did
Or the goodbyes we bid
Only now, we tell the story

We saw all the beauty
Fulfilled our duty
But now, life’s become blurry

How did we all miss
It would turn out like this
Father time, make us feel his fury
BOEMS BY JA 29

Hope
is a vile,
deceitful creature.
Slowly
   and
deliberately
instilling baseless confidence,
it knowingly assures
   victory
where there is none
to be had.
Abandon hope
to those
   less weary
and prepare yourself
for the inevitable
   worst.

I will hide
   my heart
deep
deep
   away from the howling wind
this anxious
   bitter
   wind
will reach inside
and draw out my soul.

I love you onion
I'll tell you why
in part because
you make me sigh,
you are everything to me
the song my Mother sang...
a whimsical, sad
and poignant little tale
I hear you crooning
& the radio tuning
my Mother knew me better
than I'd like to think,
singing ...
Lonely 'Lil petunia in an onion patch
a bittersweet memory
of all the saddest words
that I have ever heard
the saddest is the story
told me by a bird
tears fall from a pungent smell
when I cannot forgive,
say you'll never tell
and in tears of laughter  
when I'm tickled
seeing the inchworm
in the shape of a finger
a moment comes,
  I stay
and linger
climbing like a spider
singing me a verse
Spent about an hour
chatting with a flower
and here's the tale he told
as you're peeling layers,
& hearing prayers
revealing honesty
and depth of flavor
intoxicating waifs
I sniff and savor
kept safe
by a sturdy skin
cooking you
I start, begin
chopped fresh
and finely diced
or maybe
even thinly sliced
for summertime
franks, not the
Ballpark kind
these I doubt
you'll ever find
homemade baked beans
that you adorn and grace
a smiling sweet,
lil' onion face
everything made
from scratch
gleaning my
lil' onion patch
in toasted rolls,
whole grain mustard
potato salad...
best I can recall
my Mother
took the time to make
in everything
she cooked and baked
you're in all my memories
though you're in so much more
I've never shared with you
this love I have before
Onions are adaptation at its finest
fresh, sauteed with butter
translucent sweetness
Elevating anything you touch
they cry, and laugh
and give so much
dried, grated..slightly dated...
even hated, chopped up..
or roasted, grilled...
so very skilled
any way you slice it
even if you dice it
differently delightful
and delicious
smart for recipes,
even onion haters
appreciate the graters
sometimes your in  disguise
a lovely found
& welcome surprise
must be
I have something
in my eyes
as the flower
continues to sing
a joyful gift
my onion brings
familiar sounds
songs I sing
petunia continues
who put me in this bed
I'll bet his face is red
I call him down
with every teardrop that I shed
  then she said
if only I had him here
I would take him by his ear
and make him share my misery
I'm cooking homemade
onion chips,
rewound on old-time family clips
recall the fresh-squeezed lemonade
while we're sittin' in
the cooling shade
a memory of you replayed
so very glad you came & stayed
  sippin' slow brewed iced tea
my lil' onion friend and me.

Cherie Nolan© 2016

thoughts fall
with structure and symmetry....
as if whole your life*
have been drawn using a compass
words break in acute angles....
retracing it back to me
everywhere i turn,
i end up nearing the vertex
failing infinite times by
squaring the circles...
still i cant stop my clumsy thoughts...
ellipsing my mind....
finding order in the chaos 

Tired
I can't explain it any other way
Not sure what's going on around me
I'm in a cloud today

Frustrated
That's what I am
I can't seem to do anything right
And I don't like where I stand

Deceptively calm
That's how I seem
But if you pushed me too far
I might start to act mean

Angry at myself
That's all I'll ever be
Nothing that I feel inside
Can affect anyone but me.

Exhausted
My raging emotions do this
I just can't see why I run
When it's for peace I truly wish

Tired
I'm back where I began
I'm sick of trying to do it all right
So from my knees I will stand.