Sharing Poems by New York Author, Joni Mercado

Hello everyone,
I wanted to share Joni's work with my readers.  She has written many poems over the years.  I wanted to share them with readers.  Her work can be picked up on Amazon, I believe. 

Enjoy!
Leslie M. Jasper

WHAT SPRING HATH SPRUNG

What dreams may come of change? A soft, warm breeze blows softly by. Strokes of paint over the walls of our abode bring forth a fresh, clean scent into the air, as flowers blooming everywhere. Cobwebs are brushed aside, dust swept up. Old wallpaper scraped and peeled away. An unappealing mess displayed. Appealing once replaced. Things in boxes, things out of boxes and back where they may have been. Who can remember where? Some things are rearranged just for the sake of change. The studio and deck display a colorful coat of paint. Their new coat refreshed. Carpenter bees, unaccustomed to the taste, have abandoned their boring. Today's sunny weather has started humidly, only to slip cooly, shadily, breezily into a wonderfully comfortable day. The dogs are lazily lying here and there. The cats are on the prowl for mice and moles. Fledglings toppled from their bows fall prey to fate. Fresh flowers are budding about, their beauty unfolding. Look around you. Smell the newness in the air. See what Spring has sprung until the summer comes.

Prose poem by Joan Mercado © July 5, 2011


DAWN OF THE DAY
Blue hue through droplets of dew
Ribbon rays of sunshine filtering through fragrant flowers unfolding
Breezes blowing lilting leaves on bowing boughs
Where willows weep and swallows swiftly fly feeding in flight
Over streams of sunlight shimmering on babbling brook
Below chirping birds perched on birches
A new day is dawning

A poem by Joan Mercado © January 13, 2006


A SUNNY DAY HAS GONE AWAY

Oh sun, pray tell, where can you be?
You were just here momentarily.
So high up in the sky so blue,
Without your warmth what will we do?
White clouds above have turned to gray
I wish that they would go away
Those lovely clouds of fluffy white
Their changing shapes are out of sight.

by Joan Mercado © 2/23/09


TAKING A TRIP IN THE FALL
There once was a lady named Kay
Who tripped over her doggie one day
Well, this fall broke her hip
(She'd planned taking a trip),
Though not taking a trip in this way

by Joan Mercado © October 13, 2011

SKYSCRAPERS RISING

Too many skyscrapers scraping the sky,
Blocking the view of the clouds floating by,
How can we stop them? What will we see?
Skyscraper buildings rise more rapidly?
Almost touching the sky, they all block out the light,
If we keep building them, day may turn into night!

Poem by Joan Mercado © April 2007

THE PASSING OF A POEM

Tears are falling on the page
of words so sweetly written
Now smudged with water
leaving every word obscure;
They all seemed so befitting

Words that came and left
out of, into, invisible thin air
Only abstract pastel patterns
are remaining, that is all,
The words no longer there
A poem before passing on
will give birth unto another
"Silent spirit floating off,
surely you have left behind
a poem like no other?"

by Joan Mercado © November 17, 2011


THE WONDER OF THE WAVES
Waves awashed in foamy white
Sound softly soothing
Rising up, descending down
Flowing for a moment onto the shore
Only to be washed away, replaced by more
And so they come, and so they go
We, the people, watch and wait awhile
Passing by, passing on, replaced by more

by Joan Mercado - 2/23/09