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 Come, let us play with the magic of alphabet... 
Learning to Read
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This poem is written about the poet's mother (a very tidy women). This
poem uses some new forms of conversational dialogue.
The Elegant Guest
The room lies deep in disrepair.
(I drape Mom's coat across a chair.)
"This place could use…a women's touch.)
(Already I'd surmised as much).
"Would you care Mom for a cup of tea?"
She throws an anguished look at me.
"Just what I need to quench my thirst.
But.. let me wash the cup out first."
While she fights mildew, moss and mold,
I hide a sardine who's growing old.
She opens the cupboards with a mother's dismay.
"What… do you live on anyway?"
I laugh as I pull a fork from my chair.
But Mom stirs the tea with a mother's dispair.
"You could move home to a healthier life.
At least until you've found… a wife."
"Now Mom, you know that would be wrong.
It's dusty here, but it's here I belong!"
She turns in shame to hide a tear.
And sees me smiling, standing near.
"A poet's life must seem very strange."
"And you of course,are so stubborn to change."
Written by
Steven Robert Heine
Click here
for poet's details
Written by
Steven Robert Heine
Click here for poet's details