“Barnyard Reflections” by Mary Bone


In the barnyard, be careful where you step.
Feathers are being preened,
colors shine brightly.
In the early morning hours,
a rooster crows outside my window.
A new day begins.


Some Information About This Poem:
This poem reminds me of life on the farm, where you don’t need an alarm clock. When I was little, I would dive under the pillows and try to sleep a little longer after our rooster crowed waking up the household.


Mary’s poems have recently been published at Family Friend Poems, Vita Brevis Press and Literary Librarian Pantheon of Poesy.


© The Literary Librarian 2020

“Mom’s Apron” by Mary Bone

In memory of Esther Lucille (Harris) Barrick.
July 4th, 1923-January 14th, 2010

Mom’s Apron

Folded neatly, decorated with embroidery
and crochet,
mom’s apron is a reminder of the many great meals
she cooked on the old wood stove.
Wearing her handmade apron,
she would cook skillet cornbread, red beans and
buttermilk biscuits made from scratch.
She would add a pinch of this and a pinch of that
making a gourmet meal, fit for a king.
Her sweet southern tea would steep all morning
on the back porch in the Oklahoma sun.
I can still hear the screen door opening
and mom would say, “Dinner’s Ready!”

Background for this Poem:

This is “a poem I wrote in memory of my mother, Esther Lucille (Harris) Barrick. She was a great mother to her eight children and a wonderful grandmother. Her birthday is on July 4th. She passed away in 2010 and left a great legacy behind. I wrote, “Mom’s Apron” in her memory.” ~ Mary Bone

Author Bio:

Mary Bone’s Poetry can be found at Spillwords, Literary Librarian and other places. A short story entitled, “Koolaid Street” is currently posted at Literary Yard.

© The Literary Librarian 2019

All photos public domain

“Colors” by Linda Imbler


Back when the water was blue
we told each other secrets.
And we talked through all the days.
But sometimes
colors change,
don’t they?

Background for this Poem:

This woman has experienced the loss of her spouse. She is now looking at the sun setting on her own life, hence the color change of the ocean and sky. The poem is inspired by the recent death of one of my neighbors. His wife is now alone. She is 99. He was 98.

Author Bio:

Linda Imbler’s poetry collections include two self-published works, Big Questions, Little Sleep, and Lost and Found. Soma Publishing has published her two e-book collections, The Sea’s Secret Song, and Pairings, a hybrid of short fiction and poetry.

Examples of Linda’s poetry and a listing of publications can be found at Linda’s Poetry Blog.

© The Literary Librarian 2019

All photos public domain

“Palace Amusements” by Jack M. Freedman

This poem is dedicated to my father, Reginald Freedman (1948-2013)

Palace Amusements

Asbury Park
greets me
within your thin lipped
toothy smile

At the end of every labyrinth,
you straddle the seashore’s yen.

You are a funhouse mirror
distorting my figure
yet always finding
abundant embodiments
within my gut

My navel yearns
for that connection
to amusement within
these vibrant walls

Love was the product
of jackpots
won from slot machines
dispensing ducats

Tokens tossed from one hand
Arm pulled by the other hand

You were the windfall
stashed within this chest
of hazy nostalgia

Adulthood proves more haunting
compared to the cart
carrying me through
those mysterious halls

Wishing I could be hypnotized
just so I could catch a spoonful
of what once satiated my satisfaction

One taste of the sacrament
derived from riding the roller coaster
before it became a cliche
denoting a diagnosis

Before mania
surged through my synapses
like a Jimi Hendrix guitar solo

After bumper cars foreshadowed
the accidents I’d face
throughout these
static frequencies
of depression

If you were a Eucharist
I’d be an idolator

For you were the body of a god
I tasted before knowing what it meant
to be a righteous Jew

You were the excuse I needed
to play hooky from Sunday school

You were the choir who greeted me
before I possessed the voice to echo
any calls I desperately needed to answer

You were the calming voice I needed
before my own soothsaying emerged

Now the tongue with which I speak
needs to taste the honey
into which I dip my apple

Now this fruit
stores nectar
of passing years
in a cloud

Accessed via my digital thumbprint
Repressed via my carbon footprint

Pollen is carried by a generation
of workers and drones

If I left an intention on my doorstep…
I’d wish for it
to be carried
by the Westerleigh wind…

I’d hope the corners
of the crown
in my castle
mirrored this palace
of amusements

I’d pray the pleasantries
could be contained
by the channels
from which we feel joy

May our data be easy to transmit
even if our devices are outdated

May said devices be reused
as analog anecdotes

Let them be paperweights
for the childhoods we cherish

Preserving a trail
back to the inner offspring
struggling to spawn and survive

Background for this Poem:

Palace Amusements was an indoor amusement park in Asbury Park, NJ. I went there when I was six years old and miss it terribly. It closed back in 1988, but the legacy remains with Tillie. This was the mascot of the palace I make reference to in the first stanza.

Author Bio:

Jack M. Freedman is a poet and spoken word artist from Staten Island, NY. Publications featuring his work span the globe. Countries include USA, Canada, UK, France, The Netherlands, Ukraine, India, Nigeria, Singapore, and Thailand. He is the author of the upcoming chapbook, …and the willow smiled (Cyberwit.net, 2019).

Find More by Jack at:

Facebook: @andthewillowsmiled

Twitter: @JacobMoses81

…and the willow smiled by Jacob Moses on Amazon

© The Literary Librarian 2019

All photos public domain