She was a bag full of crazy
My silly candy girl
Combination of sweet
With long flowing curls
A vision for my eyes
My box of Craker Jacks
Revealing special prize
I held her for a little while
I guess she wasn't mine
My passion devoured
A treat on which she dined
I wonder where she finally went
This vision from my mind
My silly candy girl
could never be defined
Written by Richard Lamoureux
I chose this on because it reminds me
of what it was like to be young.
The form is Quatrain with a twist each stanza is 8/6/6/6
She was my dream before I could dream,
She is my sun, my moon, my stars.
She’s the air in every breath I breathe,
She is the true Queen of my heart.
She is my warrior princess,
She is each moment of my time,
She’s the crimson coursing through my veins,
She is my art, my prose, my rhyme.
She is my strength to face the world,
She is my sword and shield.
She is my vulnerability,
At her whim, hurt or healed.
She is my missing jigsaw piece,
My half-soul’s one true mate.
She is my morn and starry night,
She’s my destiny, my fate.
She is my very Eden,
Where I’m Adam, she’s my rib,
God’s gift to me right from the first,
My Eve, my cause to live.
It’s her I’ve loved since time’s first dawn,
Yet veiled for years before
That first glance, yes, I knew her face,
And it’s her I’ll love forever more.
Many features attract many together.
Lovely curve, a good front or any the eye can gather
Love I found in the face of my lady.
So smooth, ripples from its centre,
A perfect delight to behold from angle any.
Eyes glowing like sprightly stars
Emitting light that makes any soul stare.
Lips gliding with such perfect harmony
Revealing such a splendid virginity.
A spot on its left to single out hers from the rest.
‘Tis delight had no flaw but gave me only joy.
My ultimate awe came from the ball at the centre.
Quite round but extended with two smaller stems.
This ball was the epic of all expressions;
Twitching consciously with any change in tone.
It is the blessing divinity bestowed
For me the true state of things to know.
This ball always disclosed everything
And conceals not even the secret things.
No matter how hard the bearer tries.
Curves a bit upwards when sad,
Status quo when things were so,
Widens a bit when surprised. Tints a little pink,
When the heart becomes blue.
Such fun with all truth loved I the most.
MY GIRLFRIEND SAID TO DELETE THIS
I asked her to travel with me
from the east coast to the west
I promised the trip would make us feel free
“so please, join me on a restful quest”
we began in Jersey while snow was on the ground
headed for the west where the sun goes down last
we didn't really care to where we were bound
but I recall the desert being blistering hot and viciously vast
along the way we saw a hitch hiker with her thumb held out
she looked young, innocent and with striking good looks
my spouse did her good deed, fancying herself a girl scout
and even though my wife picked her up the trip was going by the books
at one point I pointed my eyes to the back
and there sat a young girl in a very short skirt
if tantalizing is a talent this girl had a knack
then I realized I was driving and had better stay alert
we continued on and at one point my wife had to pee
and that's when I found out why men do what they do
no one could have predicted what came to be
after I frisked her fresh body while looking at eyes of blue
my hands and lips wandered everywhere
and we made love like my wife and I hadn't for years
in the back seat moans and groans were all you could hear
cooking in the car under a southern sun that sears
we had just enough time to make a decision
somehow my wife had to go
to I took out my hunting knife and made an incision
and my desire sliced her from head to toe
that young girl and I made our way to the west
making love and making believe my wife's death didn't occur
all I know is now I'm spending life in jail at the judge's behest
and now I don't give a sh*t what happened to her
© 2012.....copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
First, let me say I'm sorry
This isn't your fault, it's mine
I don't feel for you what you feel for me
And I know that seems so unkind
But, the passion we used to have
I don't feel it anymore
The flame that burned inside of us
Has dwindled to nothing, and nothing more
I'm sorry for you, who came out of the blue
I fell in love with a girl, but my love is no longer true.
In culture of love tenderness abounds
Those loved have plenty of respect given
True friendship gives pure love without a sound
Loving pride shows their lives as driven
They walk in the moonlight on a stone path
Moon is cascading its light onto them
Pleasure and peace is felt instead of wrath
She’s given a rose, with thorns on the stem
This night love is shared between the couple
Beauty lights up from the moon’s gracious glow
Culture allows romance that’s quite subtle
Two hearts meld to one, love beats, and they know
The romance within the land is truthful
Love bleeds from the rose thorns, the passion builds
The heart doesn’t leave without feeling full
Power is the strength of the love that they wield
Entrant into Mystic Rose's "Be My Valentine" contest
A black-haired dirty thinker
your words invade my head;
where lust and thirst become me
and love will see me dead.
Your body build a sailing ship.
Your keel at my back.
Your nods upon the ocean-
my death from your attack.
A bum to form a segment.
A fruit as firm as day.
A touch to stun the surface.
A helm to clear the way.
She's been gazing, staring, all the night long
I've been scared, sheepish, stupid, and sad
I'm kissing her after the next love song
If my insecurities aren't that bad.
She's so effervescent, she doesn't know
It's not even about the looks, it's deep.
I swear I'm looking into her soul, woah!
Into this mystery I'll glide, don't weep.
Come on Derrick, it's time to rise and shine
Be the man, be the love, be the best, try.
She deserves it, make her smile just divine
Look at the mistletoe, over her, high.
Here I go, no longer holding this back
"Hello, you are beautiful, and you glow.
I know how I sound, I sound like a quack.
But please, one kiss, under the mistletoe."
Six months ago the year was young,
The gears in the mantle clock ticked on,
The songs of Spring remained unsung,
And I lay still with sweet Yvonne. . .
Every morning we would awake,
Have coffee and kisses in our lanai,
Sharing each triumph and heartache,
Her hair in such exquisite disarray. . .
Now her combs and brushes are gone,
The same sun rises to no aplomb,
The coffee is cold and on the lawn
Are palms she planted amongst the balm. . .
Their fronds wither from lack of care,
The balm belies its soothing name,
And I sit talking to the empty chair
That perfectly fit her tiny frame. . .
Oh, could I have just remembered when
She first smiled at me from the rim
Of her sunglasses that childish grin,
Now my sight and soul might not be grim. . .
Six months hence the pain may fade,
A year of mourning her absence done,
I will leave the tussled bed unmade
And with a new love rise with the sun.
MRS. SOCIETY WEARS IT TO ALL FORMAL EVENTS
So they trekked up the mountain covered with snow
surrounded by white with only one place to go
they were headed for a place where money could be made
but the job they do leaves so many squealing and afraid
spurs on their shoes and the dollar sign in their eyes
each step brings them closer to the clear blue skies
ice picks, shovels and the all important implement
and none of these men deserve any form of compliment
footsteps bring them nigh to their prey
because this is a job with mighty good pay
it just requires heartlessness and a dark heart
with selfishness playing it's specious part
suddenly they come into vision at rest
just living snowballs about to face their final test
mallets and hammers paint the white with red
so Mrs. Society can wear the fur of a baby seal beaten until they were dead
© 2012.....copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~