Holly

Her voice stabs the metal confusion
As buildings loom, always judging
Her endless trek through normalcy.
Oration to an audience
Deaf to her questions,
Never seeking answers.
Hair like gathered straw,
Eyes, windows into an empty soul.
Holey shoes scraping
the sidewalks of dementia.
Walking, always walking
Going nowhere.

C.Lawry Brown's Questions:

Can you sense the lost feeling of this person? 

Does it work without rhyme?

This is a real person, homeless and forgotten. 

Lunch

Two notorious spiders 
On a web of deceit
Are dancing too close,
And who gets to eat
That fat little fly
Who waltzed foo near,
With such cavorting
That no one can hear?
Says one to the other,
"I''ll not have the dregs,
You take the wings,
I'll handle the legs."
"But they're the best,
I'll not be left out.
You'll not get them"
Both proceeded to shout.
The web it shook.
They couldn't agree,
It shook so hard
It set the fly free.

Moral
A wing in the web is better than no legs to much on.

C.Lawry Brown's Questions:

Does a poem with a moral work these days?

Is it too cute and the rhyme too lose or does it work?

I tried it without the rhyme and it was too flat, it seemed better with it when I used the moral at the end.  Help?

Remnants

Shingles weathered from salt spay.
Weed ridden remnants
Climb  a broken down trellis.
Marks soften with age
Where the porch glider sat.
The squeak of the rusty hinge,
The swollen door struggled to 
hold in the memories from our intrusion.
The room smelled of old woodfires.
The only signs of entry
Mouse tracks in the dust of a dozen summers.
Curtains, rotten from hundreds of sunrises.
The victrola ready to be wound, the record of "Stardust" waiting.
A coffee cup left on the stove
Filled only with time's flies.
Memories flooded with cedar and mothballs.
Summer arrivals distant 
As those who once played here.

C.Lawry Brown's Questions:

A time for memories.  Didn't everyone have a place that the family went for summer picnics and get togethers?  Do I convey the feeling that everyone just left on that last summer, expecting to return the next year but somehow never did?   Is the use of the coffee cup filled with time's flies too much?  Is there too much visual here?  I try to take you on a tour as I relive a childhood place, does the reader follow in my footsteps or is it only my dream and difficult for the read to picture?