Concepts Phantasmagorical
When the cows come home to roost,
or the crows are grazing grass,
It’s time I wrote a rhyme,
until yesterday returns to pass!
If bats in the belfry stay sleeping,
until the clock strikes the noon of day,
Tis then the ghouls awaken,
keeping to their regular, natural way.
If fish in the river are kippers,
with heads on a pebble, they sleep,
If no one ever can see them,
perhaps the water’s too deep?
An Otter is preparing his meal:
it’s a portion of fish and chips,
How do I know he enjoys them?
Why, look how he’s smacking his lips!
A Heron that stands on a rock
has legs that are bandy and thin,
It’s doubtless the effect of water,
in which he is standing in!
On seeing his rippled reflection,
he gave himself a surprise
For a body that’s as thin as his is,
will never get fat, though he tries.
An alligator lurking close by,
on the Heron is keeping his eye,
Though it would not make much of a meal,
doubtless he’s willing to try.
He long ago ate all of his neighbours,
his reason for wearing a grin,
They, not knowing his objective,
all quickly disappeared within!
When cart horses are seen wearing panties,
or prancing and trotting with pride,
It’s because they’re taking their Groom,
who is reluctantly taking a bride.
Whilst the vicar is greeting him warmly,
dressed in brown boots and spats.
The bridesmaids are dressed in bikinis,
on their heads, are brown paper hats!
If elephants were seen blowing trumpets,
with giraffes happily banging a drum,
Then imagine the picture that’s painted,
it’s much better than normal humdrum?
And think of the fun you’d be missing,
if you were reading some other book:
For one must possess vivid conception,
be they brainy or a pitiful schnook!
Now there’s little of rationalised reason,
to be found in work such as this,
Just the pleasure it affords this poet:
a delight he never would miss.
He is concerned the reader will wonder,
as to what his words might mean?
But there’s nothing intended nor hinted,
It’s only a phantasmagorical scene.
Phantasy exercised thus, is a boon,
at least to someone like me,
For it allows my mind to roam freely,
to places I doubt it ever will see.
When I indulge in illusory rhyming,
it’s amusing and a source of great joy,
I find writing in a free-wheeling manner,
is therapy, few others enjoy.
So when reading my weird peregrinations,
think not on the content therein,
Just envisage the picture presented,
then permit yourself to grin.
There’s nothing profound nor insightful,
nor an arcane message within,
For it’s purely whimsical commentary,
of unorthodox origin.
Rhymer. March 24th, 2017
Copyright © Denis Barter | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment