Winter Quickie Poem (untilted, for now)
When the writer’s laptop crashed,
she looked at her bedroom windows.
Grass green shades hung like sleepy eyelids.
Drapes drooped white smiles
like snow that covered branches,
roof tops, and trashcan lids like icing.
Everything was sweet, but she
had never noticed before,
and this time when pine tree branches,
too heavy with snow, nodded in the wind,
she whispered, “Yes…”
Shawn R. Jones 2014
Joyous Christmas
The tree is tall and bent and green like spring
with golden balls that hang like bows on braids
and shiny tinsel raining gold and jade.
Angelic wings flap as the children sing,
“The baby born is Christ, Our Lord and King…”
Small arms rise slowly as the music fades.
The audience breaks in most joyful praise.
Discouraged hearts are now able to dream.
Shawn R. Jones
*I am hoping to finish this sonnet someday : )
God is blessing you
when people you do most for
do the least for you.
Shawn R. Jones (2013)
Let’s Pretend We Know Everything
Let’s pretend we know everything
and carry our religion
like a clutch.
We can carry it when
we wear certain outfits
certain places.
Let’s pretend we are God
and give everyone a key
who is like us
to the door of these
certain places
where people gather
who are certain
about all things
in the universe.
Let’s pretend we are right
until certain people
decide we are wrong
and lock the doors
to certain places
where everyone
is absolutely certain
about everything.
Shawn R. Jones
Author of the devotional book, Pictures in Glass Frames http://t.co/BxiNwWRG
and the poetry chapbook, Womb Rain,
I Have Danced All My Life
If you peaked through
my windows tonight,
you found me tapping
on my laptop keys
in a tan recliner by the fire
with a knitted white blanket
across my feet.
You saw my husband sitting
a few feet away from me,
flipping through Hemmings
Motor News, adjusting
his bronze-framed glasses.
If you listened closely enough,
you heard the jittery fire pop,
sizzle, and crackle within
its brick walls.
Then, you heard me say,
“Fires do not dance,”
as I turned
away from the flame.
Shawn R. Jones (2013)
From Cabin Windows
Spider-legged branches
cross orange-melon moons
in lavender- webbed skies.
Shawn R. Jones
This day is on my chest.
Tick tock heartbeats
chime moments
I have to accomplish
something
Shawn R. Jones
Through many windows,
you watch my well-crafted life,
devoid of details.
Shawn R. Jones (2013)
Our Inheritance
I do not see the need to
dine with Kings and Queens.
I am a queen
and my husband-
my king,
and we prefer
to dine alone.
Every glass – a goblet
Every chair – a throne,
and everywhere
we sleep – a royal bed,
and every place
we step,
red carpet red.
Shawn R. Jones (2013)
Author of the devotional book, Pictures in Glass Frames http://t.co/BxiNwWRG
and the poetry chapbook, Womb Rain,
I Cut
I grabbed scissors,
cut each twist,
and severed
each long-haired myth
of beauty.
Shawn R. Jones
Author of the devotional book, Pictures in Glass Frames http://t.co/BxiNwWRG
and the poetry chapbook, Womb Rain,
shawnrjones12 