Best Fied Poems
My limerick star is low in the sky
I'm struggling of late and don't know why
Could be the weather
Knock me over with a feather
Need to get back on track, I'm quite stupid-fied
© Jack Ellison 2015
You can hear,
My name.
From those who play,
The gossip game.
But it's all wrong;
Whatever they say.
It's all made up,
Don't listen, go away!
They've no right,
Not at all.
To disneyfy my life!
It's not true,
The things they say;
That I do.
They've no right,
To disnryfy my life...
Don't disneyfy my life,
Saying prince charming,
Will surely come tonight.
I'm not sleeping beauty,
A barbie or snow white.
Not Bella or Cinderella.
So don't just,
Disneyfy my life...
I don't eat poison apples.
And you won't see;
Any stepmother's around,
To torture me.
And the mirror,
On the wall.
Doesn't say i'm fairest,
Of them all.
You've got no right,
To disnefy my life...
My limerick star is low in the sky
I'm struggling of late and don't know why
Could be the weather
Knocked over with a feather
Need to get back on track, I'm stupid-fied
I am a bonafide certified mommy-fied leader of a dog pack.
They currently sit at my feet waiting to see what we will do next.
Beau our newbie is the only renegade who keeps running from the pack.
He has never had the run of six acres before, and he loves it.
Sophie, our old lady cocker is sedate and stoic…
unless another member gets too close, then she gives a guttural
warning growl.
She is proud to be the matriarch.
Buddy at one hundred and sixteen pounds could take all of us.
But he is a gentle giant, going with the flow, letting the new baby manhandle him.
Beau at five months, attacks his big bro and often
Play biting his leg and his undercarriage.
They run from couch to couch, moving furniture as they go.
I am super proud to be a bonafide certified mommy-fied leader of a dog pack.
Yearning to realize her dream
Misty did all the right things
Joined the literary associations
Scooped up the hottest hardbacks
Hung out in dank cellar restaurants
where the best food on the menu left grease stains
Told all her friends ‘I just can’t tonight
I’ve almost finished chapter six’
A blatant lie, stuck on page one
forgotten how to have fun…
But the dream dies hard and she finally broke through
a feeler from ‘The Atlantic’ for her 'latest' romance novel
Alas, ‘feelers’ come and feelers go
So at age 45, with nothing to show
She campaigned and won the race
for Mayor of Boulder, Colorado
Bragging that her parents funded her entire campaign
and, oh yes, changing her first name to Mary Jane...
So, instead of writing ‘The Great American Novel’
Mary Jane’s directing it, petal to the metal of Boulder, CO's throttle