BULLETIN: Please see additional poems by Charles Ghigna, which he supplied and I added after this post went up this morning.
Hi everyone,
I’m glad you enjoyed getting better acquainted yesterday with Steven Withrow. My thanks again to Steven for his informative essay. I look forward to seeing more of his work.
Today I continue the series of bringing you poems selected from the titles I bought at the recent Friends of the Library book sale in Springfield. ANIMAL TRACKS, WILD POEMS TO READ ALOUD was written by well known poet Charles Ghigna and published by Harry Abrams in 2004. I featured Charles waaaaay back on May 7, 2010 ( https://davidlharrison.wordpress.com/2010/05/07/charles-ghigna-today ).
I’ve chosen two brief poems to share, “The Snail,” and “Fly Swatter.” My thanks to my friend, “Father Goose,” for letting me share his work.
THE SNAIL
by Charles Ghigna
Though he has no hands,
Only a tail,
Do not pity the lowly snail.
Though he has no pencil,
Or pen,
He leaves a message wherever he’s been.
(c) by Charles Ghigna, all rights reserved
FLY SWATTER
by Charles Ghigna
The house is full of flies again,
I swat them for a penny
Until there aren’t any.
Then I open the door — for more.
(c) by Charles Ghigna, all rights reserved
Hi again,
Charles answered the question concerning his total output of poems. He has now passed the 5,000 mark!!
He also asked if I would post the following three poems as examples of his more recent work. Gladly, Charles. Here they are:
My Tree House
by Charles Ghigna
Welcome to my tree house,
my free house,
my me house,
where I come to ponder,
to wonder,
to look up at the sky,
where I come to daydream,
to play dream,
to watch the clouds roll by,
where the air is fresher,
no pressure,
where treetops swish and sway,
where I come to look at
the books that
take me far away.
(c) by Charles Ghigna, all rights reserved
* * *
The Poet Tree
by Charles Ghigna
Among the tops of tulip trees
whose branches dance each spring,
there is a place of purple lace
where words like birds can sing.
Upon the breeze that stirs the leaves
in whispers made of air,
poems rise above the clouds
like songbirds singing there.
And if you listen close enough,
you can hear them too.
The trees are full of poetry
each time the wind blows through.
(c) by Charles Ghigna, all rights reserved
* * *
The Poet Tree House
by Charles Ghigna
Let’s build poems
made of rhyme
with words like ladders
we can climb,
with words that like
to take their time,
words that hammer,
words that nail,
words that saw,
words that sail,
words that whisper,
words that wail,
words that open
window door,
words that sing,
words that soar,
words that leave us
wanting more.
(c) by Charles Ghigna, all rights reserved
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