This Monday Poetry for April 13, 2026 is Close Your Eyes, Open Wide. (Not to be taken literally).
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Doctor’s Visit
Close your eyes, open wide
take your medicine.
Have faith in science,
blind or otherwise;
for Science is God.
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Get in line, get injected.
Get measured. Get tested.
You are full of germs,
viruses and infectious,
so close your eyes, open wide
take your medicine.
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Cancer is coming
to a theatre near you.
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The Love Tree paperback
Transformative Monday poetry and coffee for March 30, 2026.
May the birds bring the sunrise to your day. May your thoughts have wings. It is Monday.
This tragic poem speaks to devastating cause of ice storms in Michigan. We just got federal money from the last one and here we go again.
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Geo Engineering is real.
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More poetry by Michigan Poet Richard Rensberry.
The Wild Canary Children’s Book
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Identity
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There’s a golden thread
sewn into the fabric
of our existence. It is electrified.
It carries a resonance
like a violin. It vibrates
at the speed of life.
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The artist hears it.
It is the rhythm and rhyme
in his lyrics. It puts the verve
of living color into the brush
of the painter. It makes the dancer
leap and the sculptor sculpt.
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We sing. We imagine,
we create. We bring
the beauty and harmony
of love, affection and family.
We know, not think.
We help, not preach.
We nurture destiny
the best that we can.
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Richard Rensberry, March 9, 2026
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Touch and Grace
If I Were hand,
I could smooth a crease
from your worried face. I could
grasp what you hate
and hold it away
out of your reach. I could
glide you across the kitchen floor
while Neil Young strums his blue guitar.
If I were a hand, I’d touch your waist.
I’d caress your cheek with touch and grace.
I’d pull you close and never let go.
If I were a hand, I’d lift your soul.
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I hear my fishing poles stretching their muscles. My lures are rattling in my tackle box. My waders are singing the opening aria of an opera I can’t wait to attend.
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Sanctuary
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I have many rooms
in my heart. It’s a house
where only a few have been invited
to remain. Each room is occupied
by a kiss or a hug. So much happiness
comes calling, a special cat,
a playful dog. A begonia
or an orchid. The moon
and the stars, even the wind
and the smell of the rain
have a place at the table. I
am blessed with your presence
that still comes and goes
with the quiet dignity
only the deepest of intimacy
can afford.
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More Poetry
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The Sky is full of
glory, geese and a Navy
fleet of Blue Angels
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From my poetry book “The Love Tree” available on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/dp/194073620X
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Garden
In my garden
you are kneeling
among roses and tulips,
deft hands quick
as roosters snipping
petunias.
In your garden
you are grinning
berry-stained
and tickled pink
as a snapdragon.
In your garden
you are humming
captive as a bee
coaxing begonia
buds to bloom.
In your garden
you are the flower
of my heart.
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The Lost Days
We are casualties
of the season,
like onions and potatoes
sequestered in the damp
cellar recesses.
Instead of kisses
we sniffle at each other
and sit confined
to a cough and a sneeze, lethargic
as cats. Projects
sit dormant
and scattered
’til Spring.
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Paperback https://www.amazon.com/dp/194073620X