Pantster Poet

A friend  of  mine  and I  were chatting  today  about  our poetry we both  write. She told  me I was  a Panster, poet. I thought  it was a joke comment  or something  bad, so I  asked  her  what  it meant .  She explained  and when  our chat was  over, I  looked  the  word up. The dictionary  said it means, someone  who writes  with  no plan or thought. Well  that’s  definitely  me most of  the  time. I  will  pull a word out of the air, type  it and see where it goes. Here, I  will  do it right now. The first  word will be,,,,why.

Why do you  call out to me
I hear  the echoes  deep in the sea
I float to surface  to see who’s  there 
But  I  don’t  see you anywhere 
I am now your memories  from your  past
They float within me so they last 
Don’t  keep calling  out my name my dear
For  I am standing  by you, very  near.

Written  by,
Terry  Shepherd 
January  2016


Remember Me?

Won’t  you  love  me  like  you  used  to  do 
Whisper my name  and  say  I love you 
Bring  me flowers for  no reason  at all
Talk to me sexy, when  you  call
Gaze into my eyes ,once more
Walking  over and  locking  our door 
Lay me gently on the  bed
Caress my skin from  toe to head
Can’t  you  see I’m  missing  you
Everything  you  say and do?

Terry Shepherd
January  2016


My Tea Parties

green parkIn the shadows where no one can see me I make-up my very own tea parties. I have a secret place where I can go. No one knows about it. I have been going there for several months now.

I have a little table with four chairs. The prettiest, white, lace table cloth you ever did see, lies softly over the table. On top of this I have a purple bouquet of lilacs. I am very fortunate. I know of a tree that is full of these delightful, aroma-filled blossoms. I change them out as soon as my nose can no longer sense their smell.

I have no windows; but this is alright. I don’t want to let anyone see through the window of my soul. I have two candles. One is sitting next to the grass-filled chair I made, and the other hangs over  my table  by a vine I made.

In the three chairs that are guest chairs; I always have special guest visiting with me for tea. Today, I am happy to let you know that Mr. Cuddly bear is here. He is wearing his comfy, fleece pajamas. He brings me great peace.

In the second chair is a dashing Mr. Magnificent man-doll. He is so handsome. He watches me a lot. I think he things I am beautiful. He is always smiling at me and there is a constant twinkle in his eyes. Sometimes I put the needle down on the record, and he and I dance around. My heart flutters, and I feel so alive. I love it when he comes to tea.

The third chair sits no other than my over-stuffed grandma doll. This is what I call her because I have had her since I was a child. When I was young and I was crying, she seemed to always whisper the kindest words into my ear. She would lull me to sleep. Today, I have a few very important things on my mind. After our tea party is over, I am going to ask  her if she can remain behind. We will go over to the chair, where she will sit and I will kneel down in front of her legs and rest my head on her lap, pouring out my thoughts.