MORE POETRY BY MARIANE HOLBROOK

*  A - L  *

And More Poetry  ~   (M-Z)

* Click on each Poem for beautiful graphics and music 

Denotes Humor 

 

 

A BRAIN FULL OF TRIVIA 
*A FREE SPIRIT
A HEAVENLY SURPRISE
*A SOLDIER’S THANKSGIVING
A TRIBUTE TO RICHARD HEDRICK
*A WINTER NIGHT WITH GRANDMA
*ABBY
ALL ALONE
THE APPLE TREE BY THE ROAD
BEACH WALK
BILLY SPENCER'S KISS 
CLASS REUNIONS 
COASTAL REINCARNATION
DADDY
DEAR PASTOR (Hallmark Card Reject) 
DON'T DIG MY GRAVE
*EASTER AT MOTHER'S BEDSIDE
ENGLISH CLASS 
*EVERGREEN
* EVERGREEN COUNTRY STORE
EXIT LAUGHING 
* FOLLOWING GRANDPA
* GOD LOVES THE CAREGIVERS
* GOD'S HEARTLAND
* GOD'S LIGHT SHINES THROUGH
* GOING BACK TO GRANDMA'S FARM
GOOD GRIEF, MOM 
GRANDMA'S CHICKEN COOP 
*GRANDMA'S WOOD STOVE
*HAPPY LAZY THANKSGIVING 
I CAN HARDLY WAIT 
* I HEARD THEY TORE DOWN GRANDMA’S HOUSE
* I KEEP LOOKING FOR YOU
* I NEED YOU
*I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU
I WISH I HAD
I'LL KNOW
IF
* IRENE
JACKSON
* JACKSON, MY GRANDSON
JUST BE MY FRIEND
JUST TAKE ME OUT AND SHOOT ME NOW 
LAUGHING THROUGH MID-LIFE CRISIS 
LIFE'S A BOWL OF CHERRIES 
* LOOKING FOR YOU, FATHER


A BRAIN FULL OF TRIVIA

by Mariane Holbrook 

When I am gone, when I am dead,
They’re going to open up my head
And find it full of trivia
Like, “quince grows in Bolivia.”

And doctors will be so impressed
At how much knowledge I possessed.
They’ll ooh and aah and wonder why
Such wisdom rests in such as I.

They’ll peer inside my fertile brain
And try their best to ascertain
What methods they should now employ
So that this gem they don’t destroy.

They’ll learn that cats have 30 teeth,
That fish spawn in a coral reef,
Men hiccup more than women do,
Ammoniums are in shampoo.

More women pay the household bills,
More men forget to take their pills,
Most women lie about their age
And most men have a tire gauge.

The pigs killed off the dodo bird
And if you think that that’s absurd;
More women have a double chin,
Most household dust is human skin.

So, stick around, for some fine day
You’ll likely hear a doctor say,
“Her brain is such a rarity,
Lets keep it for posterity.”

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A HEAVENLY SURPRISE

One afternoon in heaven I'll be walking near a stream.
I'll wonder if such beauty could be nothing but a dream.
I'll sit alone and ponder all that God provided me
To make this lovely place my home for all eternity.

I'll lie back on the lush, green grass and close my eyes to rest
When something leaps into the air and lands upon my chest
Before I utter any words to cry out "What is THAT?"
A furry feline finds its voice and says, "I'm Missy Cat."

"I never got to meet you when we lived on earth below.
I wanted to be with you now so you would finally know
How much I loved the things you wrote about a cat like me
And how you showed such love for someone we both know as Dee.

So now that we're together, will you let me live with you?
I know you have some puppies here, but none of them can "mew."
I only need a place until St. Peter calls to me:
"Hey, Missy Cat, someone is here. She says her name is "Dee."

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A TRIBUTE TO RICHARD HEDRICK

by Mariane Holbrook 

Richard was a carpenter,
Much like the One who long ago
Used His hands to build and to repair,
To provide for His family,
To work among His friends,
Earning a reputation as a just and good man.

Richard was a gentle man,
Much like the One who long ago
Pulled the children to His side,
Telling them of His Father’s love,
Making them laugh, watching them play,
Sharing their joy.

Richard was a kind man,
Much like the One who long ago
Visited the sick, comforted the weary,
Fed the hungry from the bounty of the earth,
Laughed with those who laughed,
And wept with those who wept.

Richard was a loving man,
Much like the One who long ago
Delighted in His earthly family,
Telling them often of His love for them,
Caring for the woman nearest to Him,
Holding those dear to Him close to His breast.

Richard is now a perfect man,
Just like the One who long ago
Promised that Richard would, just as He,
Leave this present world,
No longer a carpenter or apprentice
But at last a Master Craftsman.

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ALL ALONE

by Mariane Holbrook

Why do I feel so all alone
Among the crowds
When you are gone?

There’re people all around me here
But I ache inside;
I want you near.
I need you, dear.

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THE APPLE TREE BY THE ROAD

by Mariane Holbrook

I wonder who the person was
Who felled that apple tree.
Did he not know how much it meant
To one small girl like me?

Across the road at Grandma’s house
An apple tree stood there.
The fruit was red and yellow striped;
A specimen so rare.

Did he just think that gnarled tree
Was dead, exposing root?
Did he not know seed catalogs
Don’t list this rare, old fruit?

To spare the tree, I wonder if
He even cared or tried.
But when I saw that tree was gone,
I bowed my head and cried.

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BEACH WALK

by Mariane Holbrook

I walk the quiet beach alone
And see the gulls above.
 I listen to their plaintive cry
And think of you, my love.

The setting sun has cast its glow
Of soft magenta hue.
I look across the breaking waves
And long to be with you.

I see your face where’ere I go,
I feel your presence near.
I long to hold you close to me
And say “I love you, dear.”

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BILLY SPENCER’S KISS

by Mariane Holbrook

Of all my childhood mem’ries
That fill my heart with bliss,
The one that thrilled me most of all
Was Billy Spencer’s kiss.

We sang duets together
And made a pleasant sound;
Miss Rumsey was our teacher then
And took us all around.

One day he came to see me
When school had been dismissed;
We sneaked into the living room
And was I ever kissed.

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CLASS REUNIONS

Don't go to class reunions, you'll be sorry if you do;
The sunny mood that you've been in will suddenly turn blue.
What happened to that beauty queen who made the fellows stare?
She's gained an extra hundred pounds, and look at her pink hair!

The handsome football captain's out of shape and has a limp.
He used to flex his muscles but has turned into a wimp.
The red-haired girl I envied so keeps pulling at her ears
Her hearing aid keeps screeching and she's fighting back the tears.

Just look at Billy Jones, the boy I used to dream about;
I wouldn't say he's fat but why's his stomach hanging out?
The girl we dubbed "The Fashion Plate" now buys her clothes at Sears.
The rich boy that she married has been gone for many years.

I can't believe how Sally looks, she used to be so vain.
And look at Susie Murphy, she's the one we called "The Brain."
That handsome dog they're gathering round, and hanging on each word,
That CAN'T be Kenny Stevens who was always such a nerd.

I look around the room and think there must be some mistake;
This has to be a nightmare, one from which I'll soon awake.
These people are their grandmas, can't you see how much they've aged?
This party was a joke they played; the whole thing was just staged.

I turn and walk out through the door before I say goodbye,
But then I see a mirror and I heave a mighty sigh.
I know that I belong with them, acknowledge time had passed,
I rush back in and join the crowd and do we have a blast!

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COASTAL REINCARNATION

by Mariane Holbrook

I’m NOT into reincarnation;
My Bible says it’s not true.
I think when you die
Your spirit will fly
To somewhere prepared just for you.

But sometimes I look at the seagull;
Its breast is as white as the snow.
It soars and it glides,
Unaware of the tides
Or the billowing waves down below.

I doubt I’ll be reincarnated.
But sometimes I wish that I might .
No question ‘bout me;
A seagull I’d be
And join in their glorious flight.

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DADDY

by Mariane Holbrook

I need to go back to that valley,
To Waverly, Athens and Sayre.
I need to walk back to my dear father’s grave
And quietly think of him there.

I remember his love for his Bible;
The hundreds of verses he knew.
You’d ask for a verse and he’d give you the one
Before it and after it, too.

One day as we sat on the glider
Reflecting back over his life,
He hugged me and said, “I am blessed beyond words
With my seven great kids and my wife.”

No man was more widely respected;
His counsel was sought by all men.
His life was consistent with all that he taught
And he proved it again and again.

It’s painful to write of my father;
Few earthly possessions he had.
And now that I’m older, his life seems so short -
Will I ever stop missing my dad?

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DON’T DIG MY GRAVE

by Mariane Holbrook

Don’t dig a grave for me
in earth’s cruel, crusted soil.
Don’t imprison me deep in darkness,
away from sun and rain and air,
separating me from those I love
and those who might still care.

Rather, scatter my ashes from the bank
of some quiet mountain stream or
better yet, on calm, emerald ocean waves
which gently toss me to and fro
as a mother rocks her nodding child,
and I can bathe in sunlight
and be refreshed by misty rains.

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DEAR PASTOR (Hallmark Card Reject)

by Mariane Holbrook

Dear Pastor, words cannot express
How sad we are when we transgress.
We hate to be a stumbling block,
But next time, will you bring a clock?

Your sermons are just what we need
To learn our doctrine and our creed.
But we would sing a glorious tune
If you'd just let us out at noon.

We love the singing and the prayers
And talking to our God upstairs.
But what you sow you cannot reap
If you keep putting us to sleep.

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ENGLISH CLASS

by Mariane Holbrook

In-dic-tion, in-vis-cid,
Tri-dac-til, tour-bil-lion.
Sal-u-bri-ous, sta-sis,
Vi-vi-fic, ver-mi-lion.

U-bi-qui-tous, un-du-late,
Po-chard, pro-ven-ance,
Now, HOW can I use all
These words in a sentence?

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EXIT LAUGHING

by Mariane Holbrook

When I get old
And I am told
My life is nearly through,
I hope I’ll smile
And laugh awhile
Before I say adieu.

I know that we
Are ’sposed to be
Morose when we depart;
But couldn’t we
Be filled with glee
And not just fall apart?

Would it be bad
If I’m not sad
And maybe tell a joke?
Is it okay
To swing and sway;
Or would you have a stroke?

If you’re around
My burial ground
And wonder what to say,
Please say that I
Just waved goodbye
And laughed and danced away.

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GOOD GRIEF, MOM

by Mariane Holbrook

I’m quitting my job as a mother.
I’ve had it about up to here
With mud on the rugs
And collections of bugs
And music that blasts in my ear.

My term has expired as a mother.
It’s time that I had some relief
From boys who hate math
And won’t take a bath;
Just why should I TAKE all this grief?

I’m going to resign as a mother.
It’s NOT all it’s cracked up to be.
There’re days when I drag
And look like a rag
And wonder what’s happened to me.

I’m reviewing my role as a mother.
Johnny has said his goodbyes.
He’s enrolled down at State
And his class starts at eight;
So, why are there tears in my eyes?

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GRANDMA’S CHICKEN COOP

by Mariane Holbrook

Merle and I gave our grandma a fit;
In fact, she was more like a wreck.
“Get off of that chicken coop!” Grandma would squawk,
“Or you’ll break every bone in your neck.”

Around and around Grandma aimed at the roof
With her broom swinging wildly and free.
Til Merle pushed me off and I fell to the ground
And got what was coming to me.

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I CAN HARDLY WAIT

by Mariane Holbrook

Someday I will sit back and listen;
(It’ll be a real shocker, no doubt),
To hear my sons tell of THEIR childhood
And all the things THEY went without.

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I WISH I HAD

by Mariane Holbrook

I should have said “I love you” more.
I should have stepped across that silly barrier,
that line I’d drawn from childhood on,
that wall that extended too high for me to scale,
too wide for me to traverse,
and too thick to easily penetrate.
I stood beside his bony frame
in that sterile, forbidding room
and watched his labored breathing,
his clenched hands, his weary eyes,
and I wanted to say it,
desperately wanted to say it,
but I couldn’t
and I didn’t
And I wish I had.
Oh, how I wish I had.

I should have said “I love you”
when I walked into her room
and heard her moan that deep, awful sound
of uninterrupted, unrelenting pain
and saw her head resting on her knees
in that blue reclining chair,
her pink sweater fallen from one shoulder,
her small pillows on the floor.
Over and over she whispered,
“Oh, God, help me. Oh, God, help me.”
And I turned my head so she wouldn’t see
the rivulets of tears streaming crookedly down my face
and I wanted to say “I love you”
but I couldn’t
and I didn’t
And I wish I had.
Oh, how I wish I had.

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I’LL KNOW

by Mariane Holbrook

I’ll know when we’ve reached the summit,
that place best defined as the high meadow of rest
reserved for close friends and lovers,
a place where two hearts
meet and meld and embrace
in the knowledge that they
overcame every obstacle,
every distraction,
every encumbrance,
for that promised prize.
I’ll know, but it hasn’t happened yet.

I’ll know when we finally cross that line,
that place marked for the swift and sure,
where as runners we pressed doggedly on,
ignoring misunderstandings, weariness and tears,
determined to endure,
commanding every resource,
straining and pressing and forging ahead,
sure that at the end of the rocky course
lay that indelible line that can’t be erased;
that line that says we made it.
I’ll know, but it hasn’t happened yet.

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IF

by Mariane Holbrook

If I could reach back in time,
searching for that one day,
that one defining moment
that glistens with emerald brilliance in the sun,
causing a profusion of prism rays
so blindingly beautiful
that I was never again the same,
I’d pick the day that I met you.

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JACKSON

by Mariane Holbrook

What a cutie, what a prize,
You have mommy’s pretty eyes.
Lying in your brand new crib,
Bunnies on your little bib.

Where’d you get that head of hair?
Other grandmas stop and stare,
Wishing that my pride and joy
Was their little baby boy.

Where’d you get that awesome nose?
From your daddy, I suppose.
Apple cheeks, daddy’s chin,
Mouth that forms a tiny grin.

When your daddy was this small,
He was cute, too, I recall.
Much of him I see in you,
Though I see your mommy, too.

How I thank our God above
For this precious gift of love.
Little grandson, what a joy,
I’m so glad that you’re a boy.

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JUST BE MY FRIEND

by Mariane Holbrook

She walked slowly toward our open porch.
In her tanned arms she gripped a large sack
with several tasseled ears of corn
protruding from the top
like mini-soldiers
at rigid attention.

She seemed tired,
her steps tentative
as though unsure of her welcome.
I had met her only briefly
at the small, white-steepled country church
near North Carolina's famed Blue Ridge.

As she walked onto the porch,
I opened the screen door to invite her in.
"I've brought you something from our garden.
It's not much," she said,
placing the paper sack in my arms.
"I can't stay; there's still so much to do.
" I thanked her and asked
what I could do for her in return.
She hesitated, weighing her response.
"Just be my friend," she answered quietly.

I watched her walk toward her car,
strength and grace her companions,
fortified by years of unselfish giving
to everyone she knew, everyone she loved.

She turned and waved and I smiled at her.
After she drove away,
I raised my brimming eyes heavenward,
knowing only God would understand.
"Thank You."

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JUST TAKE ME OUT AND SHOOT ME NOW

I walked along the crowded streets and people stopped to stare
The looks that they were giving me were more than I could bear.
I looked at my reflection in the windows that I passed
"What's wrong with all these people here? Am I just being harassed?"

I strolled into the mighty Mall where shoppers crammed the aisles
Some shoppers laughed uproariously, their faces bright with smiles.
At first I thought 'twas me that brought the giggles and the stares
But then I figured, "Life is great and by the way, who cares?"

I looked at lots of clothing in the stores that lined the halls
And marveled at the paintings that adorned the Art Shoppe walls.
The laughter seemed to follow me no matter where I went
But life is stressful, so I thought, and people need to vent.

My shopping done, I went outside and someone touched my arm.
"My dear, I hate to bring this up and cause you some alarm.
Now please don't get upset and maybe have a heart attack:
Because of static cling, there's panties spread across your back.

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LAUGHING THROUGH MID-LIFE CRISIS

by Mariane Holbrook

Am I having a middle-age crisis?
Are those tears on my cheeks that I see?
Did they just start to fall
For no reason at all
Because hormones are missing in me?

Tell me, what is a middle-age crisis?
Is it suffered by ALL women folk?
Did some medical freak
With his tongue in his cheek
Make the whole thing up just as a joke?

And do men have a middle-age crisis?
It is something I’d sure like to know.
What us women go through -
Men should have some pain, too.
Is their threshold of pain just too low?

Tell me, how does one treat mid-life crisis?
Just ignore it and it passes by?
When you get a hot flash
Do you make a mad dash
For the door and hope no one asks why?

Just how long do you have mid-life crisis?
Til you’re fifty or sixty or more?
Do you start gaining weight?
Does your love life abate?
Do your ankles swell up and get sore?

I’ve decided to skip mid-life crisis.
I'm too busy and don’t have the time.
So, you women out there
While you’re tearing your hair,
Think of me living life at its prime.

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LIFE’S A BOWL OF CHERRIES

by Mariane Holbrook

It is fun to be somebody’s daughter.
It is nice being somebody’s wife.
There are no greater joys,
If you don’t mind the noise,
Than some boisterous young boys in your life.

It’s not hard being somebody’s daughter.
It is easy to call someone “sis”.
And when all’s said and done
I would say it’s been fun
Though I doubt that I’d call it all bliss.

I’ve enjoyed being somebody’s neighbor,
Though your friends can be sometimes a pain.
But you take their phone calls
And you climb up the walls,
And it helps if you’re slightly insane.

So I doubt that I’d like being single.
Without kids, I just know I’d be blue.
As for family and friends
And the love each one sends,
I should thank them much more than I do.

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More Poetry  ~   (M-Z)


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