Mary Oliver;
 of poetry fame

I dreamt the other night, I had
won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry
Mary Oliver, my poetry mentor, had
won it in 1984. Two days ago she died

She was eighty-three. Two years
younger than me. Means I might not
have time for mine. Better get moving
Mary was one of my poetry idols

For a time I tried to take her advice
Her 1992 A Poetry Handbook of mechanics, 
meter, rhyme, form,  etc.   When I get to
Heaven I'd like to be a student of hers
_ _ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Magaly Guerrero in the Imaginary Garden -- 86 words here for her
at https://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/01/weekend-mini-challenge-mustnt-be-fancy.html?showComment=1547967388784&m=1

Mary Oliver:  "When it's over," she says, "I want to say: all my life / I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms." ("When Death Comes" from New and Selected Poems (1992).) Wikipedia

The elusive man never seen -- a Poem

Thou Fat Man, a Cryptid?

doest thou really cometh
[see below for Cryptid definition]

The children are making their lists

the Mothers are getting rest

For once kids are good to behold

They perch quietly to hear more

Come November late October

Standing in line, parents in tow

waiting their chance to tell the man

He's dressed in red does all he can

Tries to make them think he is real

He's fake and most for that don't fall

Real Mr. Claus lives far away

Has never been seen, that we say

_ _ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2018 (Santas) and 2019 (Poem), All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Isadora Gruye in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/01/your-lesser-known-cryptids.html 
 - and also with Anmol (HA) in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/01/the-tuesday-platform-departed.html
  [larger? click on picture]
Isadora's words: "Getting comfy with less popular (emphasis mine) cryptids
A cryptid is an animal presumed to exist by people, even though there is no valid scientific evidence to prove it is real. And oh sure…there are a few that come to mind right away: bigfoot, the lochness monster, yeti, chupacabra. Those cryptids get all the attention, all the fan fare."

My Santa Claus is very well known, yet not ever seen my man.  He came to mind tonight and I can't get rid of his image until I wrote this little ditty here.

a Poem -- ??

Hollow Legs;

an anatomy of 

getting 

drunk together

She was alone at the bar

Sipping her gin and tonic

His countenance perked, he liked,

wandering if she too had

a hollow leg

Of that of course he dare not ask

If she'd let they could find out

But so much of her he liked

it really wouldn't matter

if neither limb were hollow

If not then he'd remain still

and hoped they'd be snockered

together. That would be fun

More so than hollow legs

His he would seal, drink faster

Together then they would lose,

lose sight of reality

Non-hollowed night would pass

How do you do, Maam. Would you

like a drinking partner here

I'm lonesome and would not bite

That would be fine, Hubby says

this hollow leg I can't fill

_ _ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Marian in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/01/just-one-word-hollow.html?m=1
 - Marian has asked us to use the word  "hollow" in our writing today. It caught her attention when she was reading a T.S. Eliot poem, you can read it at the link above.
 - I would have liked to have written about 'cats' this weekend.  I have Eliot's book, "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, from which the Broadway production, "Cats" was adapted.