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Oh you poor little slug,
you're not an insect,
nor are you a bug.
You'll chew all the leaves
of the colorful Primrose.
Would you please stop,
or is it anything goes?
Out comes the Sluggo
or the grey goop Deadline,
to keep you from eating
those pretty flowers of mine.

A one hit wonder,
is that what you are?
Surrounded by fans,
both near and far.

Your rise to fame,
your being a star,
is remarkable now,
when seen from afar.

The most beautiful women,
the fanciest car.
we now know you
are a Rising Star.

Into the night with
darkest of sky,
he waited patiently for
the Moon to pass by.
The brightness, came slow
and gradually.
He could see where to
step, walking gingerly.
Trying to be quiet so he
wouldn't be heard.
Creeping so closely to
that elusive bird.
One that is a beauty,
known all around.
This was the place where
it could be found.
The colorful feathers reminded
him of you,
when in pursuit of the elusive,
beautiful, Cockatoo.

www.adriennehedger.com
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Of all things, in this World I've seen,
there has never been anything
like a well oiled machine.
The sound of that clickety clack,
raised the hairs on your back.
A clatter of valves, camshaft of course,
the exhaust of the rear engine,
air cooled 911 Porsche.

I looked at the wall,
purple it was,
covered with vines
and a pinkish fuzz.
I saw some movement,
off to the side,
when I looked again
my eyes opened wide,
for there, by the trunk
of a short, squatty tree,
a creature was looking
directly at me.
A small creature,
about three feet tall,
something you'd find
if you went to the mall.
It had four legs
and a tail so very long,
I knew at a glance
that it didn't belong
here in the room
looking at me,
so I woke from my stupor
and set it free.
Free from my mind
where it's life began;
free to enter my dream
once more, again.

Oh, oh I said
as I turned the next page.
What happened here
is a small outrage.
A page out of order,
is what I saw,
an obvious error
or a simple flaw,
of my writing too fast,
of the words, that I know
that spray from my past.
Wait a minute; Just woah,
it's not a mistake
as it really does matter,
when writing the words
it is not idle chatter.

I was looking at her.
She looked my way.
I know not her name
Or if she wanted to play.
I loved her brown eyes
On this clear sunny day.
I walked over to talk
And ask of her name.
Would you go for a walk?
Would that be too lame?
A romantic interlude?
Oh I think not,
For our rendezvous
Was a grassy lot.
I rubbed behind her ear;
She liked it, I thought.
I patted her back,
It was so soft and dear.
I looked at her face
And her sad, lonely eyes
Knowing at a glance,
There was no reprise.
I loved this small dog,
For this did endear,
A love of this girl
Who was meant for me.

I'm telling you the truth.
To you I won't lie,
but this journey here
brings forth a deep sigh.
A sigh of relief,
a sigh of joy,
a time when I said "Ahoy."
Anchors aweigh, don't you see,
when I joined the US Navy
and then went to sea,
on board an Destroyer Escort,
life was never harsh,
for I was a crewman
on the USS Marsh.
Over the water, Pearl Harbor we went,
free of charge, cost not a cent.
Many a Port visit we did,
of that news I would not kid.
One year the trip far away
to Truk Island, Bikini and Ponape.
The tropics were nice not the least icky
so long as you like your skin sticky.

Hey, my friend, all kidding aside,
Life has been a bumpy ride.
Sometimes so smooth, it's scary,
That's the time to begin to worry.

You might think I am bold,
but on this day, my Soul is cold.
The coldest of air, with icy grip,
my feet are numb, I best not trip.

There I was with the light getting dim.
I could barely see the back of the rim.
The rim on a basketball hoop
was my target.
My coach instructed me in this way,
the back of the hoop is your target.
It was getting late in the day, but
I wanted to shoot more and play.
So dribble I would, with either hand
for "playing ball, what I lived for,
unfortunately at that age,
I was only 5 foot four.