By Jan Forslow
The King of the Boardwalk
A Poem About a Neighborhood Skunk
He walks down the boardwalk like he owns this place.
There is nothing in this neighborhood he cannot face.
Fashionably dressed in a black-and-white striped suit,
There is no one that can stop this fashionista’s pursuit.
A slight problem, though, is his unmistakable smell.
Even he himself would agree that it stinks like hell.
This odor has made him a lonely poor soul.
And a regular at the boardwalk watering hole.
Every night at dusk, to the beach he proudly goes.
Despite this, his real name nobody knows.
I call him Prickly Peters in lack of his real name.
Our landlord he could, namely, easily defame.
But Prickly Peters does not care about fame nor titles.
He goes to the beach eating fish, improving his vitals.
And once in a while he takes a detour to build on his den.
We are so honored to have him as our boardwalk friend.
In the Morning
A Poem About Marin Headlands
In the morning, when sun rise
Hillside adorning, in clear skies
Grass of green, fills the scene
A shade of blue, morning dew
Hawks are flying, high in sky
Squirrels eyeing, nature’s spy
Deers are roaming, in slow stride
Proudly combing, in grass wide
Poppies blooming, leaves unfold
Eyes consuming, yellow and gold
Lupines rise, two feet high
Nature’s paradise, makes me sigh
Time stands still, calm the headlands instill
Love is in the air, beauty everywhere
In the morning.
