M.T. JAMIESON - POEMS

​M.T. Jamieson and his wife, Susan, live in northeastern Ohio with their dog and two cats. He is a U.S.A.F. veteran from the Viet Nam era, and twice a university former student.

​No Hurry

​The old wagon rolled to stop from slow,
Smiling faces, open arms, below.
 
No hurry, slowly into the town.
The driver handed a new one down.
 
And wrote in ink in his dusty book,
Closed the cover, allowing no look.
 
A name for sure, and perhaps, a date,
Maybe of early, maybe of late.
 
Everyone earns a place of their own,
But some things are not meant to be known.
 
He searched another, next on his list,
Some pages are checked, others are missed.
 
Dare not to look into tomorrow,
Allow today be without sorrow.
 
Wooden wheels creaked under heavy load.
A sturdy horse on a muddy road.
 
 

​By Tomorrow

​By tomorrow, her proper white dress,
Without afternoon sin to confess,
 
There clean and dry, simple pure cotton,
Indiscretion, this day, forgotten.
 
Belt and buttons back neatly in place,
Folded nicely, no visible trace.
 
Of a quality tested and true,
Freshly laundered, and as good as new.
 
Today found them, hot humid weather,
Thunderstorms, alone, but together.
 
And, only perhaps, unintended,
Their yester guidelines, gently amended.
 
A shared secret, just they each can know,
That she is thought of in manner so.
 
By tomorrow, her proper white dress
Should, no longer, suggest of excess.
 

​Merely Mediocre

​Merely mediocre, stand and cheer.
Pull your chair, little, some closer near.
 
Plan for destiny. Muster your force.
Ride to town on your brown and white horse.
 
Pedal your no-speed bike to the brink.
Bring some tap water, chilled, to drink.
 
Cancel subscriptions to “Boring Times”.
Shoelaces forward on uphill climbs.
 
Spend not this day in the puppy pool,
But venture out to where big dogs rule.
 
Seek adventure, go bloody your nose.
Jump over the fence. Greener grass grows.
 
Breathe deep the new air, expand your chest.
Can’t pass or fail, til you take the test.
 
Merely mediocre, stand and cheer.
Lift up your face, the sun will appear.