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Wednesday, July 9, 2014


NEWS FLASH! For the first time, I have a poem published in a journal. Find "Confusion" at page 18 at

At the moment I'm working on a Poem-a-Day challenge for July--which I won't share with you just now. Any non-PAD poems will come here. :)


The heart of any marriage is true love
But divorce attests the lie of true love.

A single dry rose is all that remains
When summer heat drains her dreams of true love.

Wedding rings symbolize promises made
Lest any threat trade the fake for true love.

If a man search for meaning all his days, 
His quest is sure to fail short of true love.

Darlene my darling, God’s lullaby,
Calls me the apple of His eye, true love.


Memories fade, unless she glides through dreams
A wisp of smoke, no warmer than a dream.

Grief sets its own timetable, yesteryear
Joins with today in the sphere of my dreams.

A stranger’s profile, a grandchild’s smile, both
Direct me through the aisles that store my dreams.

A meal with lemon pie and crisp hash browns
Sits me down at the table of my dreams

In heaven, to dance and play, forever
Alive, never glum, a realized dream.

The sight, the sound, the smell of you only
Tease me with the spree that awaits, no dream.

Dearest Jolene, both too close and too far
At the bar with the mirror of my dreams.

Beauty crowds me till I die
Sucking my breath with
Pollen-swollen floss
Sloughing off my skin in
Pursuit of summer sun
Cacophony of judgment
Stills the voice of my drum
Until a single word cracks
The dam, releasing fear
The pursuit of beauty squashes me,
Flattening, crushing, draining me
Till I die inside, leaving
Only a brittle outer shell       
Darlene Franklin ©2014


Never a box a cat
Does not love, nor a
Bag left unexplored
Whiskers quivering
Measure for green light         
Head first, paws on springs
Legs hugging body    
As snug as bird’s wings

Dangling tail swishes
Warning to leave alone
Or face his claws in war
Backing out, his wish
demands more comfort
Legs first, not too squished    
around him, tail swings
In box, cat is king


Hand-painted box fort
Felled by driving rain
Do-it-yourself Dad
Questions the standard
PVC pipe and
Camouflage replace
Thinks outside the box
Creates something new                                                                                                              

The Man Upstairs and
The Good Book both speak
Casual truth, facts
Made from cardboard, pricked
And torn, thrown around
Easy to replace
Throw out inept box
Nothing contains God


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