In Our Own Words CCP

New Writings About the Cumberland County Playhouse (site © 2015 by CCP) Email submissions to: blogsubmissions@ccplayhouse.com

Category: Poetry

A Poem from Miss Mary’s House

The fog is winter frost’s way of staying around
… Sneakily.

Almost as cold,
covering everything it touches
with tiny pinpoints of awaking on skin.

Bundled under coverlet,
under vestibule,
with cream and sugar Joe
steaming up to meet his colder cousin.

I wait for Anthony and Cleopatra,
my Bald Eagles,
to return and fish off the big tree by the water
as I ponder a sunless day-off
with un-squinting eyes.

Could there be a more peaceful place
this side of heaven
than Miss Mary’s house?
Doubtful.

Laura Happel

(null) (4)

(null) (2)

© 2015 Laura Happel
Used by Permission

the man with the lumberjack voice and the lady with the angel eyes

in the beginning there is fear    shaking     nausea
the desire to run and
hide hide    hide away
alone    safe

but a great distance from the laughter of people

then, the man with the lumberjack voice and the wavy hair
hands me a mask
words
gives me a place to plant my feet
a direction to point my whirling rivers of sand and blood
and fever

the lady with the angel eyes
and sparkling laugh
looks at me                   smiles
plays a chord                                      on the piano

rivers of sand and blood and fever
pour though my mouth
taking shape as they hit air
magic horses
running
running
running

the man with the lumberjack voice and the wavy hair
and the lady with the angel eyes and sparkling laugh
find another trembling soul
and another
and another
and one by one
give each of them a mask
a place to stand                words
the courage                                 to pour out

the horses      the wind in the horses

the people watching the horses        horses
and the man with the lumberjack voice and the wavy hair
and the lady with the angel eyes and the sparkling laugh
marvel at this pouring out of rivers

of sand and blood and fever

there is joy              laughter                where before

there was only fear

Bobby Lynn Taylor

© 2014  Bobby Lynn Taylor
Used by permission

A Red Fence

A red fence alongside the road
Color starting to show in the trees
Barn-red picnic tables, nothing to eat
Acorns starting to fall from the black oaks
Only eight angles to the gazebo
Red berries adorn the dogwoods
Posters covering the walls
American flag, reminder of this great country
Sunshine akin to the breeze, today it is fall.
Warmth of sunshine on my face
It seems time is over for summer.

Jimmy Ray Sells 2014

© 2014 Jimmy Ray Sells
Used by permission

P L A Y H O U S E

P eople
L ong
A ll
Y ear
H oping
O penly and
U nanimously
S eeking
E ntertainment

M ost
U nusual
S ensual
I ncredible
C onnection

I ‘ve
S ince
L eaned on
A ll
N ecessary
D ance

by Paula Snow

© 2014 Paula Snow
Used by permission

We

We strode the boards
In giants’ shoes.
We spoke the words,
We saw the views.
We shared our load
In stride and pace.
We walked the road,
We found loves’ grace.
We left our fear
In lieu of trust,
We shed a tear,
We laughed in lust.
We now are one
In all we found;
We hold the sun,
We now are bound.

John R. Briggs
10/17/02
(To cast of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof)

© 2002 John R. Briggs
Used by permission