Old MacDonald had a farm
With some noisy critters on it.
They mostly mooed, or neighed,
Or clucked, or brayed,
But some stayed
Resolutely mute,
I'm afraid.
It wasn't his equines,
Or bovines,
Or fowls,
Or anything lodged in his barns or corrals,
But a couple of rather recalcitrant vowels.
The "e" and the "i" and the "o"
Answered the call,
While the "a" and the "u"
Stayed conspicuously AWOL.
A descension of value bows night scenes,
the purple canopy edges its hoist,
spirits cool Platte River to lose its sheen,
Nebraskans wake to clarion fields voiced.
A loyal guest calls, it's the Sandhill Cranes,
dancing lessons, fields fattening corn orts,
pecking and choosing established campaigns.
Last state, go afoul, -- a date with the courts.
Locals aid their tally, most from afar,
It is nature's clock, all good things must end,
fly north to breed, and brood, and up to par,
A month's here, till next year, that's how the trend.
Awnings grey, triumphant stirs, the tension,
inspiring, crescendo ... the ascension.
My heart’s harbour opened deep and wide
all friendships peaceful within
Love and kindness ran deep inside
‘til resentment and rancour crept in
Do you harbour resentment?
or do you freely forgive?
Forgiveness keeps the sea
lanes open and free
so all of us can love and live
Resentment leads to rancour
Rancour runs afoul of the soul
When the harbour starts to shut itself down
We’ll no longer be in control
Do you harbour resentment?
or do you freely forgive?
Hope is a better anchor
for our soul so all
of us can love and live
Don’t let rancour’s anchor
disturb your harbour’s peace
Scuttle them as far away
from you as you can
to secure much needed release
No anchor for rancour …
~Resist the thing you dread!
No anchor for rancour …
~love and kindness instead!
No anchor for rancour …
~smooth sailing ahead!
No anchor for rancour …
~bon voyage !
Soulmate outsourcing my soul...
Why our hearts are in afoul?
Silence reign in this meadowsweet house...
Divorce sheets on the bed for the delouse...
Unhouse our beloved belongings,
Unwed ourselves soulfully,
Strangers in an unhouse split...
Loving you till souls apart...
Vows are soulless promises,
Loving you till hearts depart...
I read my obituary
Accolades run afoul to lighten the souls of the living
Trite clichés, forgotten kin, melodic tributes
Boring and meaningless
Upon a granite stone etched for an eternity
I was but a ‘A faithful husband,’
‘A good father,’
And ‘Never Forgotten’
They have it all wrong
If they had read my sonnets
Mystical offspring scribbled on napkins
Consuming stale coffee in late night diners lit by neon lights
They would have known
Had they paid heed to my limericks
Nonsensical rhymes of fairytale fantasies
And polka-dotted panties created to amuse only me
They would have known
Had they inhaled my free verse
Painstaking hours spent
Creating worlds of exquisite harmony
Carrying the reader on endless voyages
Guided by the inspired lyricist through emerald forests
Royal seas, white-capped mountains
And never-ending dreams
They would have known
Had they met my only mistress
One called Haiku
A quiet damsel
Her beauty lies in brevity and endless seasons
They would have known
More than a husband
More than a father
More than forgotten
I am a poet
I read my obituary
I should have known
Words like birds encircle clouds in altitudes and attitudes
that stretch and strain my feelings to contain.
Atmospheres so thin they are denied their place, no words or birds in space.
The history of this world contained within the human race.
I watch in disbelief and mourn for those who cannot feel the ruffled plume,
or walk alone the hall and enter not the room.
A Drop of water in a wave still reaching for the moon.
Alas that we might go forth brightly shining
in transcendence nightly wild afar, gliding swiftly carried past the lining
of souls who mourn their quiet death beneath perceptions passing star.
Allow a candle’s flame inhale the darkness until spent
stand in awe at last to watch all trials heaven sent.
There’s nothing left afoul to tame, nor in the hiding be of shame.
All is all, but all for naught, if in the final net; one soul uncaught.
~ By your Side ~
Keep me close by your side when the north winds howl
I'll snuggle tight in your lap through the night hours' chill
Those who call me a 'creature' will soon run afoul
Of a cry deep inside me relentlessly shrill
You're exhausted, you're drained, from work's mud and mire
Fall asleep now, my love, it's almost midnight --
Once fair morning will dawn, good cheer will retire
Yon wild witches on broomsticks, who shriek out affright...
In the day we will play, you and I by your side
Safe and sound in sun's rays, we'll stroll o'er the land
Roam the fields, feel the breeze, see the ocean, her tides
Have a picnic for two on a blanket of sand
Yes, I'm your kitten, your baby, who loves you so much
~ Ever thrills to your delicate fingers' fond touch
Heed the owl's omen!
Peril peers all men.
As norms run afoul
now release the owl.
With its silent wing
let it soar and sing.
Wind shrieks in our ear
talons pierce the fear.
Foolish minds do reach
for the hunter's screech!
Fools wander amuck
final decree is struck.
Sounds that clutch 'n cry
always one must die.
In this raptus way
the owl stalks its prey.
Swoop in fatal flight
embrace this bloody night.
Play life's classic duel
wisdom kills the fool.
Michael Jordan, number twenty-three
Greatest of all time, that ever be?
He and his Bulls were sure 'a-rambling'
Till he ran afoul of his penchant for gambling
In My Dappled Dream I Saw You
In my dappled dream I saw you,
Your shimmering ghost, young again,
As we were, when soft flares hid your brown legs,
There, in the warm April shadows, us
Astride an old beach blanket on the grass of Corona.
1971 was sensational when we were 19 years old;
We held each other like lovers afoul in the neutral shade,
And kissed deeply there, as ants found crumbs of cookies,
Laid there by swishing palms in the dishonest sunlight.
Oh lady, it was madness most discrete, indeed,
behind the boyfriend’s back, miles away to the east;
You found new passions in our discretions there,
You delivered moist messages with muted giggles there.
Oh lady, you were wildly untrue to him that day!
Rolling as young leopards at play,
Our lips found its prey with mindless precision,
There, in the afternoon spectacle of leering light,
Of young lovers deliberately cheating,
Tendering desperate embraces in the perfumed shadows.
It’s hard to do the right thing
when fate calls your name out loud
Where not only the bad get punished
in its pursuit
The world has lost its way
along the path of least resistance
Our ethos dueling the hunger pangs
of human nature at its root
So many have been killed
in the ageless battle for truth immortal
A deadly fight with rules afoul
that change from night to day
The sun though always rising east
the moon diverts its purpose
As reason falls when memory stalls
—the righteous kept at bay
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2018)
Conjuring enchantment with its breath bewitching
Sublime your perfume ravishes the midnight air
With delirious abandon most sultry and beguiling
Caressing every minute curvature and every hair
Like wistful undulous fingers on the prowl
Sublime your perfume ravishes the midnight air
Audaciously meandering enticing scantily afoul
Dancing its seductive way around every curve
Like wistful undulous fingers on the prowl
With delirious abandon mesmerize and swerve
A divine reverence to the essence of soft shadows
Dancing its seductive way around every curve
Bemused intrigued and fascinated by the petals of a rose
Envious beauteous promiscuous yet virtuously amorous
A divine reverence to the essence of soft shadows
Deviously fabulous while tortuous and vaporous
Conjuring enchantment with its breath bewitching
Your spellbinding perfume renders my heart impetuous
With delirious abandon most sultry and beguiling
AP: 3rd place 2025
Submitted on May 16, 2019 for contest APPLICABLE NOT APPLICABLE sponsored by RICHARD LAMOUREUX - RANKED 4TH
rigid, stiff
brave, gutsy women
silly
slide
about
adept, afoul
along
frost, nippy
paths . . .
lofty heels proud !
______________________
February 19, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/lofty heels proud
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9957-85-001
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Time has come for getting tough
For I have now had quite enough
Day-after-day this kid comes 'round
To pester me like some old hound
Pelting me with day-old bread
And poking posies at my head
Calling me these cutesy names
And forcing me to kiddie games
Her silly parties, cakes and tea
Are not what they're quacked up to be
Hugging spells I've barely weathered
If not for her, I'm fully-feathered
And if you please, I've had my fill
Her painting lipstick on my bill
Now she's pulled the final straw
A rare offense of barnyard law
Spraying me with bottled water
(Soon, she'll find how far it got her)
Now it's MY turn for some fun
I'll get that chicky on the run!
Perhaps she'll learn, when run amuck -
That "NO" means nothing ... to a duck.
* FIRST PLACE in the "There Is A Brighter Side" Poetry Contest, Eve Roper, Sponsor. I have selected picture number one (#1) for my poem. *
At a spot of roadside, shaded
A predator on the prowl
Concealed itself and waited
for prey to run afoul…
Then, madly, with a dash,
It shot out from the thicket;
Nabbed one prey, in a *flash*
And slapped it with a ticket.
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