A Light Verse Poem

A Writer’s Life
by Kelly F. Barr

Write, write, write;
Edit, edit, edit
And repeat time after time.
Could drive you crazy if you let it.
Spend hours staring at a blank page
You’re tempted to say, “Forget it!”

But you plod on;
You toil and strain.
For the right words
You rack your brain.
When you type the final page
Satisfaction replaces all the pain.

Scurrying Squirrels Poem

Scurrying Squirrels
by Kelly F. Barr

Watch the squirrels running around,
Digging holes in the ground.
In Fall, to hide treasured nutmeats;
In Spring, to find these precious treats.

They chase each other round and round;
Up one tree, jump to another and down.
They balance with their bushy tails.
Their antics bring us laughter in gales.

When they have babies in their nests
Keeping your distance would be best.
If you get too close, they will loudly scold.
These little critters can be quite bold.

Flash Fiction Friday: A Welcoming Smile

He watched as she sat on a park bench writing in a notebook.  Her clothes told of her unique artistic tastes with the form fitting black pants, bright multicolored blouse, and green scarf.  She was also wearing ankle high canvas chucks, one red and one blue denim and she had streaks of pink in her golden blonde hair.

He’d always been fascinated by the uniqueness of artists.  They seemed to be more open minded than other people, and they had a vast array of interests.  He always wondered what it would be like to love an artist.

She paused from her writing, looking up.  Their eyes met.  She smiled and returned to her writing.

He crossed the grass and sat down next to her.

“Hi, my name is David.”

Flash Fiction Friday: Fear to Flutters

Cara jogged through the park just like she did every evening.  But today she had gotten a late start and shadows were falling.  She tried not to rush to the end of the trail though her nerves were tense.  She imagined that a threat lurked behind each bush.

Was that the sound of someone jogging behind me?  Is it just another jogger or something more sinister?  I didn’t encounter any other joggers along the path this evening.

There it was again.  Cara sprinted looking over her shoulder.  She didn’t see anything.

“Uff!”

Cara had run into someone, a male someone.  He held her arms against his broad chest, which was in her direct line of sight.  She lifted her head until she could see his face, meet his eyes.

“Cara, is that you?”

“Jerrod?”  He worked on the same floor of the office building she worked on.  She had seen him walking across the floor several times.  He was the best looking guy in the company with his coal black hair, deep blue eyes, strong jawline and dimpled chin.

Great.  The hottest guy in the office and I have to run into him when I’m dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, my hair in a sweaty ponytail.  

“It is you.  I didn’t know you were a jogger.  Do you jog here often?”

“I jog here every evening but I’m usually finished by now.”

“Are you okay?  You seemed a bit frightened and in a hurry when we bumped into each other.”

“I think I was just letting my imagination get away with me because of the shadows.”

“May I escort you to your car?”

“I would appreciate that,” said Cara.

“I come here to jog when I’ve had a stressful day.  It helps me to unwind.”

Cara noticed that Jerrod was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt.

“So, you live in this area?”  Jerrod asked.

“Yes, I do.  I usually walk from home, jog through the park and walk home again, but tonight I drove since I was running late.  How about you?”

“I live about two blocks from here on Park Street.  Listen, would you like to have dinner sometime?”

Cara looked at Jerrod.  Was he interested in spending time with her or was he just trying to be nice because she had run into him?  Did it matter?  She hadn’t had a date in a long time.

“I’d love to.”

“How about this Friday night?”

They had reached Cara’s car.  She unlocked the door, took out her purse and retrieved a pen and notepad.  She wrote down her address and phone number and handed it to Jerrod.

“It’s a date.”

Sometimes I Can’t Help But Wonder

Life is full of twists and turns;
some caused by circumstances
others caused by choices we make.

Stupid choices made when we were young;
wiser choices made from experience.
Some choices will come back frequently to haunt us;
some we will never revisit.

When I said some caused by circumstances,
I was thinking of circumstances
outside of our control.
You know, things that happen because of
the decisions of others around us or
with authority over us.

Sometimes I think if I had made
a different decision when . . .
then I would be living a different life.
Would that life have been happier?
Would it have been sadder, harder, more of a struggle?

It’s a fruitless exercise,
thinking on these things.
What is, is what was meant to be.
But, sometimes, I can’t help but wonder.

written by Kelly F. Barr 5/11/2016