Betty Bleen Poems

What would I do if I didn't have you
You're so full of wisdom that you can see
All my faults and fallacies
And splay them out in front of me
...

Toasted English muffins spread with peanut butter and grape jelly,
a simple meal, it is all I have to offer.
I pour you the last few ounces of orange juice, knowing as I do
that you prefer to drink your fruit,
...

Some people are so naïve. Take for instance,
Little Red Riding Hood. There she is, skipping
through the forest, which she knows is inhabited
by dangerous animals, wearing a scarlet cloak.
...

I don’t know much about war,
at least first hand I don’t.
But in my neighborhood,
when I was a child,
...

My dentist knows my mouth intimately.
And, like any man who recognizes a lover
across a crowded room, merely by her stance
or the way she tosses her hair, my dentist
...

Before the actual birth, I tried to convince myself
there could be no room for fear. That in fact, the
only way I was going to get through this and come
out smelling like a rose was to keep my wits about
...

I'm looking for a man, a prince of a man. He
doesn't have to be knockout gorgeous like
the one who bedazzled Cinderella, nor does
he have to be as tall, dark or handsome as
...

In the photo my mother is beautiful.
Though it is in black and white,
I picture her cheeks rosy as pink Chablis.
Her hair cascades thick and wavy to meet
...

My grandmother made donuts every
Sunday morning, dumping memorized
ingredients into a crock mixing bowl,
punching down the malleable mass
...

Perhaps this is the way Picasso got started,
as a baby sitting in a high chair, dumping
the dish and the cup, the fork or spoon onto
the floor, delighting in how the green peas
...