QUIET TIME HEARTBEAT THOUGHTS AFTER A VERY LONG DAY
After A Long Day
Going Here, Going There
Your Love Makes It All Easy
Like Water Flowing Freely With A Smile
An Angela Bassett Tear Fall Down My Eye After A Milky Waterfall Moment
Thinking Of You In The Lavendar Scented Aftermath Adds Up Rather Nicely
I Am Skipping Work Today Too Mr. Temptation Falsetto
The Scars That Define The Nucleus Of Our Love Have Earned Their Eternal Smile
Here I Am At The Greatest Common Factor Of Our Silver Lining....Still Thinking Of You And Positively Acting Brand New......
Sincerely And Straight From My Now Calm Heart, I Thank You.......
With Glee.....For Unconditionally Loving Me......
Categories:
bassett, appreciation, for her, love,
Form: Free verse
The first king size bed was fashioned nearly two-thousand years ago,
Not by Thomasville, Broyhill or Bassett, producers that we all know.
There was no pillow-top mattress made by Sealy or Simmons for the bed,
Nor a chenille bedspread or foam pillow upon which to lay His head.
The bed was not located in a cozy Hampton Inn or Embassy Suites,
But in a lowly stable with a bed of straw sans snowy-white sheets.
The first king size bed was a simple manger for a royal destined to rule!
Born was the King of Kings whose birthday we celebrate this Joyous Yule!
Categories:
bassett, christmas, jesus,
Form: Rhyme
They are out selling the poppies
In this run up to Remembrance Day
But they’ve confused Remembrance
With doing things the cheap way.
When I joined the colours I knew
I could be sent off to war
I just didn’t realise that
I wouldn't’ be needed anymore
If I came back bent and broken
With scars deep in my mind
A future looking bleak
And my best years behind.
Oh, you paraded at Wootton Bassett,
Wept your tears for the dead,
And you wore your scarlet poppies
Coloured for past blood shed
But when my wounds mended
And I could use my artificial leg
I was thrown on the state
Almost like having to beg.
And such treatment is normal
For children partners and wives
Of all those who went to serve
And in duty gave their lives,
Or, worse still, survived
To feel the despair
Of being on the scrap heap
When very few people care.
You call us all heroes
Just once a year,
Dig in your pockets when
Remembrance Day draws near,
And then seem to forget
That we are still alive
And for the rest of the time
We have to fight to survive.
They have to sell the poppies
For without Charity’s help
This so called grateful nation
Has thrown veterans on the shelf.
Categories:
bassett, anger, depression, hero, military,
Form: Rhyme
Categories:
bassett, caregiving, dog, water,
Form: Footle
Sediments of yester-years stir from within....
Each event containing a certain knowledge
that once was blind to thee.
Yet the mind contains a certain capacity;
Allowing thee to store such events;
till later points in time... When one is
ready to try and understand; pulling these
thoughts stored so deep, taking another
glance....
For now it seems much easier to perceive
what once drew blanks...
As time progresses more and more; the lessons
become more clear.
Strengthening thee to adhere to an open mind;
and share the peace within- which many can
find...
Simply open your mind! By Bridget Bassett
Categories:
bassett, analogy,
Form: ABC
Stagnant in a world
of commotion
Filtering ideas swarm within....
Finding life peculiar;
as each day absorbs another life.
Realizing the preciousness of time,
Each step sacred ....
for you never know which will be
your last step in this segment of time...
By Bridget Bassett
Categories:
bassett, analogy,
Form: ABC
The first king size bed was fashioned nearly two thousand years ago,
Not by Thomasville, Broyhill or Bassett, manufacturers we all know.
There was no pillow-top mattress made by Sealy or Simmons for the bed,
Nor a chenille bedspread or foam pillows upon which to rest His head.
The bed was not located in a cozy Hampton Inn or Embassy Suites,
But in a lowly stable with a bed of straw sans snowy-white sheets.
The first King size bed was a simple manger for a royal destined to rule!
A King of Kings was born whose birthday we celebrate this joyous Yule!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Categories:
bassett, christmas,
Form: Couplet
Bloody Bassett Hound
According to facts which are well-rooted
To be a fine poet, I am properly suited
With an imagination which is astounding
Like some fathers who were to be founding.
I'm like a horny, big, bloody basset hound
Who had continuously been messing around
He did for reasons which were deliberate;
Did end up sick and no one could cure it.
Sickness was writing poetry we have heard,
And can tell it by each and every word;
So maybe this we should further address;
All my poems which I wrote were full of BS.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Categories:
bassett, humor,
Form: Couplet
I want to forget the headlines
Or stated by the news team
Another soldier shot dead
Makes me want to scream
The family must be distraught
With it blasted on the news
Do the news editors ever give a thought
Of how this is shattering to the nerves
I am not saying that we shouldn't know
But not in such a dramatic way
As though the government worries
About a single life so far away
The bodies are flown home
People line the streets in respect
Everytime a plane has landed
The people of Wootten Bassett*
I would like to forget these scenes
But if I let it happen
I wouldn't be any better
Than our government who allows
these girls and boys
To return home in a coffin
* Wootten Bassett. Is the small town and the route that the cars take from the plane to wherever they are heading.
Each and every coffin is given this respect no matter what time of day or night it arrives.
Categories:
bassett, goodbye,
Form: Light Verse
There is a town up for rent, its inhabitant's spent
From the constant grieving that sees no a leaving
Please send us one back that survived an attack
So we can retire this black take these funeral suits back
There high street's a runway for funeral carriage
The tarmac's being ripped up from the constant barrage
So withdraw all the horses and silence the gun's
and pray for the memories of those lost to the War
Leave noble Wootten Bassett to cry no more.
Categories:
bassett, warfuneral, funeral,
Form: Free verse
how desperate
the disparate
the they that are
seperate
and hypocrite
whose bassett eyes
have weary arms
and longest hours nocturnal
are gardeners of distraction
without traction
how wary
are those weary
whose clock hands
dig and bury
with blistered palms
with seeping eyes and open arms
brandish brimstone in fistfuls
trod God and shout skyward
how sad for a mite to incite
refuse to be
might with insight
how sad to be man
with no compass
Categories:
bassett, confusion, life, sad, sad,
Form: Free verse
For years we have gone hunting.
I've loved sitting next to him in his deer blind
or sitting quietly in my own.
Now that Boomer came into our lives
I see all living animals as having feelings
and I can't stand the thought of hunting.
Boomer is our bassett hound.
He thinks he is human.
I sometimes think so too.
The way he has shown me
that he feels things like we do
has changed me forever.
Now, all I can think of is that
if a dog can feel emotions like we do...
can a deer?
Are they afraid?
Do they know why we are sitting there?
Do they hate me?
I have to explain this to my husband
and pray he understands why
our hunting days together are over.
Categories:
bassett, adventure, animals, introspection, nature,
Form: I do not know?