"A busy day," by Amalia Zents

A busy day put away, now it's time for me to hit the hay.

"The Tree of Red," by Amalia E. Zents

"The tree of red" a new song by Amy Zents

The tree of red stands out among the rest;

The tree of red is aflame with the colors of finality.

For months to come once autumn’s done,

The bare bones of the tree will show.

But time comes round,

And then comes spring.

The tree of red will burst with new leaves.

The tree of red will burst with birds and seeds.

The tree of red will love the summer~

Snow will have been long forgotten,

Then, the tree of red will appear in her glory;

Vibrant and wondrous to behold;

The age of browns, and tans and gold;

The tree of red will freak all eyes;

Young and old.

Will make them sit up in surprise;

With it's colors bold.

The tree of red will stand aflame

Under blue skies the sun she'll shame;

The tree of red will make things right

Before the winter ends it’s light.

The tree of red has made my day

It stands for time as it flows away

The tree of red does make me smile

At least for today, at least for just a while

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.

"My Naked Eye," by Amalia Zents

This poem is read aloud to you online free by the author at YouTube.  Here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UG6qGe5wiNI

“My naked eye”
by Amalia Zents



I do not seem to understand the tiny print I read.
No matter which finger I use my eye to lead.
The efforts that I make,
Don’t seem to really take.
It’s hard to read with just my naked eye

It’s not easy to join the leaders
If I always lose my readers!
Deciphering small type,
Makes me grumble and gripe,
It’s hard to read with just my naked eye.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.

--

A pretty little cap. By Amalia "Amy" Zents

You may hear me recite this poem at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=et6Bu4I2Jmw

"A pretty little cap."
Those words caught my fancy.
As I perused an antiquated lady's fashion
journal
A pretty little cap, from 1832
Made of black velvet and gold trim,
With two white feathers adorning it.
I thought of how I'd look beneath it's brim
I would smile with delight as I put it on,
Thinking how lovely it made me feel
A pretty little cap
Staring at it on my head
In the windows I passed, on my way to meet him.
A pretty little cap;
A lovely adornment,
A pretty little cap to make history in!

"I'll toss my cares on the moon," a sorta-sonnet by Amalia Zents

In reading Shakespeare's sonnets I got the idea to try writing a sonnet on my own.
Here is the result.
I titled my poem,
"I'll toss my cares on the moon." by Amalia "Amy" Zents
“The quarter moon shines so pretty
A silvery orb clear and bright.
In the pitch dark sky, the stars dance
I gaze at their radiant light.
The day’s labors over, I have to get home
To crawl into bed and to dream,
I can't stay up late if I need to get up
And feel the warmth of the morning's sunbeam
Walking into my house, my dogs greet me
Wagging their tails to say “Hi!”
They pull themselves up on all fours,
The moment they catch my eye.
Since tomorrow always seems to come too soon,
I’ll toss my cares on the moon."

"Be like Bobbi McCrae," by Amy Zents 7/5/2011

"Be like Bobbi McCrae"

Dedicated in loving memory of Bobbi, Abby and Savannah and the others who lost their lives in the tragic fire that destroyed the Bohemian Bed and Breakfast in New Ulm, MN on Saturday.
By Amy Zents

We must cherish the memory of those we lost,
Because the rescue teams did all they could.
There is no turning back the clock,
No matter how hard we wished they would!
Yet it is always sad when a loved one dies,
Especially unexpectedly.
Life is a gift that we mean to prize,
Though we often treat ours haphazardly.
A loved one's death is a blunt wake-up call,
A proof of our own mortality,
An awful reminder in the midst of our grief,
That one day we too shall cease to be.
Right now the feeling of loss is fresh,
We are shocked, and smarting and numb;
Yet those who have died do not feel our regret,
Or worry of what is to come.
Let our living friends help us to cope and to heal,
And shelter us through this storm;
While we feel our loss has left a gaping wound,
Let's be glad we are not alone!
Since we cannot bring the dead to life,
(As much as we wish that we could,)
We can only pray to be like Bobbi McCrae,
Kind and Generous and Good.