Category Archives: Poems

Steam-Roller

“Steam-Roller”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2017 Poem #13

 

I am obnoxious.

I am loud.

I am pushy.

I am difficult.

I am challenging.

I am unique.

I am annoying.

I am a steam-roller.

My Job is a Blessing

“My Job is a Blessing”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2017 Poem #12

 

It’s frustrating.

I often leave

Ready to never

Come back.

But for every

Person that is

Challenging,

There are three

Who are delights.

I must focus on

The positives of

My career and

Not let the bad

Ruin my day.

Work

“Work”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2017 Poem #11

 

They sit and stare,

Mindless shells.

Nothing holds their

Almost non-existent

Attention span.

Groans echo through

The room as they

Protest doing work.

And yet when I ask

What they did for

The weekend, they

Reply, “Nothing.”

How does one go

Through life doing

Absolutely nothing?

When I get frustrated

With something

That I must do,

They tell me that I

Don’t have to do it.

Doing nothing doesn’t

Even register as an

Option in my mind.

It saddens me to see

Them unable to find

Joy in honest work.

They’ll lie and complain

And put that kind of

Effort into getting out

Of the assignment.

But simple tasks that

Require little energy

Are fought against.

If they spent half as

Much energy trying

To get out of work on

Their actual projects,

Then they’d accomplish

Whatever they set their

Unhindered focus on.

Heart of Gold

“Heart of Gold”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2017 Poem #10

 

They see his skills, his looks,

And judge him on that.

But I look deeper and watch

How he treats those around him.

Unkind critics call him a fake.

I don’t believe a word of it.

His deeds speak plainly of his

Love for all the people he meets.

 

Encouraging words inspire me

To be the best person I can be.

I shall always admire him.

Bubbles

“Bubbles”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2017 Poem #9

 

Carefree, she runs through the damp grass,

Giggling as she reaches out her fingers.

The shining, wet spheres pop on contact.

She turns to me and asks for some more.

I pull the wand from the soapy solution

And let the wind form perfect bubbles.

They reflect light into rainbow shimmers.

She is a thing of beauty as she delights

In the temporary parade of colorful suds.