Poetry Night...

MY ADDRESS BOOK

My address book,
done in pen;
Is a history,
of my kin.

While some have traveled,
near and far;
Others have stayed,
right where they are.

Some continue to roam,
and roam;
Others go away,
then come back home.

Although I’ve lived,
in many places;
Of those addresses,
there are no traces.

Joan E. (James) Wyatt


MY MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS

My guitar, it sets,
in the corner alone;
While in another room,
I talk on the phone.

My violin, it hangs,
on the wall, gathering dust;
While somewhere else,
I do what I must.

My Saxophone, it lays,
in it’s case dark and locked;
While checking the cupboards,
I make sure shelves are stocked.

My keyboard, it plays,
all by itself;
Within it I think,
there must live an elf.

Joan E. (James) Wyatt