‘Song of Us’ and Other Poetry by by Amy Foreman

Song of Us

Face to face, polite and careful,
Tentative we were, and prayerful,
Neither one of us would dare pull
More from this than met the eye.
. . . Yet
Side by side we worked together,
Hands of flesh with hands of leather,
And we slowly pondered whether
We should give this love a try.
. . . Then
Arm in arm before the altar,
Stood there steady as Gibraltar,
Promised that we’d never falter
From those vows until we die.
. . . Yes,
Hand in hand, we made a good life,
Husband, children, livelihood, wife,
Couldn’t see from where we stood, strife.
Clouds could never mar our sky.
. . . But
One by one, things came unraveled,
On the worn-out road we traveled,
Neither one of us could have held
Hope for rescue in our cry.
. . . . Still,
On our knees, before our Maker,
Battered, bruised beneath the breaker,
Gave it up to our Caretaker,
Never understanding why.
. . . And
Bit by bit, He poured out blessing,
In our troubles, so distressing,
Every enemy suppressing,
Mercy always in supply.
. . . Now
Grace on grace, we look up higher,
Trusting in the great Supplier,
Who has brought us through the fire
And Who hears us when we cry.
. . . So
Heart to heart, dear, now I’m saying,
After wounds and scars and praying,
That I’m glad we’ll both be staying:
You’re the apple of my eye.

Homophony-baloney: The Ballad of Julius and Inge

Can you find all the homophones?

“Inge Stotter, oh so lovely,
Couldn’t, in your young soul, love Lee.
Spurned the warm proposal of Lee.
Oh, well,” says I, “Play along.

“Use my mallet, red as cherry, it
Hits that ball fast as a chariot.
Surely you don’t need a chair, yet.
You just joined our happy throng.

“Did you hear that blackbird croak, eh?
Call it ‘raven’ or just ‘crow,’ -kay?
But don’t let it stop your croquet,
For one minute with its song.

“Blast,” I says, “This mallet’s broken,
‘Twas that thief, last night, who broke in,
Hope my sister or my bro can
Find the culprit before long.

“Bet it was that infiltrator,
Julius, that sinful traitor,
With his shocking nymphile trait, or
Brother Buddy; both are strong,

“Both have won some relay races
With their hens: free layer aces.
And their smell real air erases
When they’ve run a good furlong.

“Did you hear that big commotion
When Jules made that Inca motion
Where the lake can become ocean
If you wave a trident prong?

“Well, young Jules is now deep-ending;
No parole for Buddy pending.
Both on charity depending
For the cash to get along.

“Yep, they’re jailed for their infraction,
Though young Jules is in for action,
Not in dec’mal nor in fraction,
But in love’s sweet tender song.

(For the warden’s youngest daughter,
In she walks, Miss Inge Stotter.
Jules, he knows this young guest oughter
Bid him more than just “so long.”)

So he mannerly “adieus” her,
And then asks, “Have you a juicer?”
“No sir,” says she, “I’m a Jew, sir.
“Ah,” he says, “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“You’re a lovely, gen’rous girl,” he
Softly says, ” . . . and leaving early,
Won’t you take me with you, girlie?”
“Never!” yells she, loud and long.

Amy Foreman hails from the southern Arizona desert, where she homesteads with her husband and seven children.  She has enjoyed teaching both English and Music at the college level, but is now focused on home-schooling her children, gardening, farming, and writing. Her blog is theoccasionalcaesura.wordpress.com