Best At Short Notice Poems
Doors slam, windows crack, letter flap inhales a fatal
wind.
Breastplate rusty dragon bearing scars.
House keys, credit cards, raybans close to hand.
Faux fur on the rack for noble bounty,
footnotes to a chapter without end.
Wistfully I crane my neck in peril,
finger marks on carbon black hand rail,
sprightly dash o’er slippy granite steps.
Odour eaters clog my leather shoes beyond endurance.
Butterflies somersault in tummy.
Elm tree barnet‘s awkward wooden stump.
Wheelie bin begging for collection at short notice.
Bin tag compass grazed.
Crack of dawn ghost ship’s uncanny horn blast.
Metaphor or tip off for deaf ears.
Egg shell clouds that dance on distant peaks
quaintly beckon.
Despite my better judgement I press on.
20 lines
Date posted : 17 th December 2021
Redemptive love nourishes
Redemptive love heals
Redemptive love embellishes
Redemptive love empathy and sympathy feels
Under provocation, redemptive love forgives
Preferring to shield from harm
Redemptive love sublime peace gives
Redemptive love showers calm
When raging storms all around wreak untold havoc
Scattering to the wind established comfort zones
A boat of peace, Redemptive love doesn’t rock
Singing tunes and melodies in soothing tones
In homes, on buses, on planes, in ships
When hearts on fire cry out
For succor as distress tears apart friendships
Assailed at short notice by clouds of doubt
Which redemptive love puts to rest
Enjoining hearts to dig from deep within
From reserves that when activated cure the unrest
To leave a romance war front clean and free of pesky din.
Soldiers never tire of “Yes Sir”!
Forgetful lips a long storm stir,
Disciplinary frog jumps for an hour
Or a free fall from a waiting tower.
Soldiers love Ear-Dividing “Yes Sir!”
You lower yours you’ve robbed them their fur;
No defaulter who won’t seem damned sour,
The Newest Bride might just lose her flower.
Solider could never stop feeding on force
At short notice quite ready for a course
They should want to ascertain its source
With a clearly disinterested horse!
Soldiers keep to the mischief of slouching
Towards a quarry by some fireside crouching.
So, why should one ever be heard vouching
For a shaky honor in innocent words couching?
Forget complicated spells,
That require obscure ingredients,
That have no safe substitutes,
When a pair of helping hands,
That can magically halve the workload,
That can massage away the meanest headache.
And a set of listening airs,
That can hear what is unsaid,
That can pick up the slightest note of harmony.
And a voice that speaks volumes,
That is low in decibels,
That speaks from the heart,
Are the only three ingredients,
That are needed to create a spell to remember,
That leaves no sticky residues,
And can be easily brought together at short notice.