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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  12/22/2014 9:33:02 AM
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  ALBERT AHEARN
 
 
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  117.     

April Rain

The long awaited needed rain
finally came in gentle drops.
Thirsty daffodils greedily
quaffed the tepid precipitate
while their odoriferous scents
reluctantly merged with ozone
creating a pungent bouquet
that stimulated the nostrils.
Far afield from the daffodils
robins comb the newly wet grass
for ever emerging earthworms
that are coaxed above by the rain.
Soon the tugs of war begin
between the two adversaries.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  118.     

Are You Game?

I am eccentric people often say
Because I view the world and all I see
In different, peculiar ways. My quirks raise
Eyebrows to say the least. Unusual, Gee!
I am a human being for Christ's sake!
Humanity is nuts to some degree.
If this is true, why look at me to make
Your case? It’s only when your quirks decree
The norm, mine become eccentricities
Abhorred by most of societies cliques.
The different peculiarities
I see but one: A different bag of tricks.
I’ll do my bag and be my guest, the same.
And stop this silly poppycock. You game?
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  119.     

August

I need not a fine calendar
To identify the present month;
With all its entire splendor
Will not be found on a twelvemonth.
If one lives in tune with nature
There are always some clues at hand:
Like a hound on a fox’s spoor
Indications he understands.
A rivers edge recedes and slows
The pear trees host the birds and bees
Catnip begins to decompose
And acorns fall from large oak trees.
Countless hints a man can trust
The four above claim its August.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  120.     

Automobiles

Human
contrived playthings
that transports fat asses
places we would never, ever
walk to.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn