Max Greenleaf

A Celebration of Mouse Eaten Memories

In Amanda Greenleaf-Whelan, Rhymes of Passion Fruit on May 13, 2011 at 8:08 am

He lugs the grocery bag

He speaks not of the drag

That is her constant lag

in popcorn

As time for them is full

Of bliss in void of dual

Of grace in tangled rule

and cat hair

His snores are thick with words

As dawn throws out the birds

Their years yawn wide and merge

like mopeds

To end and yes begin

With time and time again

She turns to him the friend

and kicks him

He is her everything

He wears the wedding ring

She has not much to sing

without him…




A Cleansing Turmoil

In Amanda Greenleaf-Whelan, Giddy Musings Giggling on April 18, 2011 at 7:23 am

This mind (mindless) stretches in vein —

her teeth scrape my heart sparking fire

A wrestling on paper ought tame —

her much schooled (quite artless) desire

“To twirl on the stage of glass eyes!”

I scream

“To juggle a gaggle of geese —

is stripping a rapturous prize,

it seems

gifts holy as sanctified peace!”

Oh tussle we do (as we’re doing)

Each loser with shout of “I win!”

Oh hear now our audience boo-ing —

as footlights explode on my shin…



Morning Becomes Ecstatic

In Amanda Greenleaf-Whelan on April 16, 2011 at 8:49 am

As play jumps in joy high in mire

(with help from the neighborhood watch)

it’s bounding with wit to inspire

rash freedom beyond coffee clutch…