Monday, February 6, 2017

bell ringer--By Lois Greene Stone--United States

bell ringer

Touching tiny squares pushed
into plastic, my fingers rim
the receiver.  Shall I, or not,
they decide as if they were
plucking petals from a daisy
playing a child's game of she
loves me, she loves me not.
An irritating sound signals
I must make up my mind else
return the hand piece to its
cradle.  Hang-up, hang-up,
staccato tempo.  I punch
the buttons for ten digits
because I miss your voice.

Lois Greene Stone, writer and poet, has been syndicated worldwide. Poetry and personal essays have been included in hard & softcover book anthologies. Collections of her personal items/ photos/ memorabilia are in major museums including twelve different divisions of The Smithsonian.


  1. Dear Lois,
    Thank you for this provocative poem. I like the way your last line turns the poem.
    Do favor us with more of your creations.

  2. Nice to see you here again Lois, enjoyed your piece very much!

  3. Nice one, Lois. Very well-written. I enjoyed it. Thank you for sharing. Continued blessings!

    -MJ (

  4. Lois,
    A very nice poem. I enjoyed it a lot!
    Yours truly,
    David Fox

  5. Very good writing, Lois "bell ringer" was me as a young boy from teasing others to get attention to seeking attention from little girls. Yes, I have played that plucking game she loves me she loves me not. I injoyed the ending of "bell ringer".