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Patricia May Neiderer

Patricia May Neiderer

snoozy

slipping in the cool
as the feet love the feel
cozy cradled in the head
make it a water bed
dreams do come
and spirit step out
embracing the night
as you are tucked in tight
remembering is real
the facade wiped out

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Other works by Patricia May Neiderer...
stimulating the lacrimal gland

the tears didn’t leave a trail into the corn field till after the couple was found frozen and dead but left many puddles after
immerse

the water paints blend as i try to share my oil with you, helping to keep your lamp bright, as the coming comes can i go with you
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come out

with hardness of heart great gnashing there will be lost in eternity if one came back they would see
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finger prints of life

some grow up with a spot to fill a title to live a for runner of things to come
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mist on paper

she set the easel up steadying the back leg with an old glue tube while raising up in her chair she spots it, there it was,
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the after

the understanding can be had as we sleep at night may we play in that land the land of spirits
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the tear that froze

the thin pentacles growing tentacl… covering over as if by suffocation the dwelling in which you live and know what fine line lays between each second of a minute
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subdue

glossed over as if covered in a way that makes it new some say white others blue
five-four

i weave the butterfly hairs into your looks and they look like feathers blowing in the airs with no one to read the book the tongue stopped by time
the reflection

if i mix red and blue will it make… or a fragment of the odor it could be the base or nothing at all the wash between cycles
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pommy way

sliding hand through first to make… as i push through the pomegranate… hands caress the tight plump fruit the juice absorbing into my pours and i sweating it’s juice, we beco…
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last night

it’s the sound of a greeting card taped up to be displayed as if to say something as a greeting card would try to co… it’s message to the receiver
egg shells

as you place me in your hand folding fingers over and carrying… to a place where you can get the magnifying glass out, are you going to burn me?
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v' words

a funny thing about poetry is that you can paint any mask with color and hue, of your choosi… weather belief or doubt or dare will some times make you stare
trival

as i place my hand in yours and we manipulate the dance floor at the museum the people stop
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