Best Fretted Poems
If you could relive one day of your life..
time lost, now retrieved for just a short while.
To thrust old scheming machinations knife,
or return healing to a lover's smile.
Such a fretted frittering those lost days,
though ones you and I will remember most.
Passions reared high in servile dewy haze..
soft breathe warm against skin from dearest host.
Moment waits untended a dreamer's call,
something I can never give you again.
Bodice caught on nail of new lover's wall,
though we may choose to return now and then.
Tarried too long look'g to horizon's edge..
promised heart unharmed, now pulled from a ledge.
Categories:
fretted, america, day, dream, heart,
Form:
Sonnet
Electric poems reverberated,
Within the walls of a London abode.
A psychedelic haze fueled the gift,
That a creative heart was bestowed.
Far from his broomstick days,
Passionate strums…electrified the room.
Emphasizing the pain from within,
Recalling the days he strummed the broom.
Acid rock...illuminated the winding path,
That led his creative heart to fly.
Good intentions laced by corrosive thoughts,
Inspired the work…from his daily supply.
Guided by his artistic soul,
The frets…fretted to that day.
Captured by a recording device,
Were the anthems…that we replay.
What began in London ended in London,
In the same lonely…workplace room.
He was here that day, then gone the next,
In the blink of an eye, he was gone too soon.
Categories:
fretted, historyheart, heart, london,
Form:
Quatrain
She
rides the
slow slide of
her guitar blues
knife ‘gainst fretted strings of pain and pleasure
with hours to kill on train of love in vain
fields of fireflies
find their groove -
songstress
burns
Categories:
fretted, heartbreak, longing, lost love,
Form:
Tetractys
Blank, silent sight, fretted the gods,
Nowhere in the horizon, a living thing abides;
Handfuls of soil, they carry in the air,
Poured as seeds ‘till a haven molds there.
Land of the Morning, Pearl of the Orient,
So called the Philippines, the name I am sent;
Seated in the east where the sun is dawning
Pride of the Pacific, as a lady ever shining.
Unlimited riches stretch beyond sight,
Vast oceans, boundless forests, plains are wide;
Flora and fauna of diversified species,
Plants, animals in a variety of faces.
Wet and dry – the nation goes through;
Brown and green – the Chocolate hills dress up too.
Her angry volcanoes constitute the ring; and typhoons, the belt;
A geographical fashion of calamity been made.
What makes her stunning that colors adore such?
Not her beauty, not Boracay, not that much…
But her people, the Filipinos, the key, the answer
Unlocking a treasure – a gem over waters.
Categories:
fretted, patriotic,
Form:
Free verse
He despaired. He was despondent and desperate.
He was impelled to violent action but restrained from acting out.
He had finally given up. He had lost all hope.
Disheartened and dispirited his will had collapsed.
Lacking confidence or courage, depression defined him.
He languished in gloom and grieved in lament.
He succumbed to a wretched tribulation,
a miserable melancholy, so forlorn was his ordeal.
He anguished over his prospects, so painful was his worry.
Desperate and wholly dejected the criminal faced his judgment.
As justice was served he fretted, ruminated, chafed, sulked and moped.
Now he faced the torment and ridicule he so easily delivered.
Finally he too understood the meaning of despair.
Categories:
fretted, angst, depression, satire,
Form:
Narrative
She didn't remember who I was
But it didn't really matter
Her eyes lit up like sunshine
Each time I entered the room
as if we were long lost friends
She'd say, "Oh! Please, sit a spell",... and I would grab a chair...
I would hand her the bag, and she would peek inside.
She wore her smile like a happy child.
Cookies !...."Oh my! My favorite kind!"
One would think it were a pot of gold.
As we chatted, she told me her about her birthday.
"December 19th!", she would remind me..
Forgetting that just the day before
we had celebrated, and even more.
She said...."Oh,..let's have a party!"
Everyone knew that this lady loved a party.
And I replied, "Of course!"
"I must be going!", she suddenly said
Said again, with a worried brow...just as she fretted the day before..
"The girls will be home from school!"
She looked around for her purse.
"I have three girls, you know,.....they will be coming home from school."
She repeated once more...."I have three daughters, you know."
I told her the girls will be fine...and that I'd like to visit a little longer.
That seemed to calm her. "Have you seen my ring?"..
She held her blue veined, withered hand high in the air for me to see.
A flash of glitter graced her finger, sparkling just like the stars in the sky.
"My husband gave it to me. It was a Valentine surprise!" she said.
"He was a rascal, you know!"
"Oh,...it's beautiful, Irene"...I responded.
"Did you know", she smiled again...."this was a Valentine surprise!"...?
"My husband gave it to me"
Finally, it was time for me to leave. I got up to say goodbye.
"Would you mind giving me a ride?" she said.
...."The girls will be coming home from school!"
I told her I would check on her girls...not to worry.
And then I told her I would be back again tomorrow..
"I have a birthday coming", she said....December l9th!! Did you know?"
Once more...I said..."Yes...we will have a party"....
"Did you see my ring?"..."My husband gave it to me on Valentines, it was a surprise!"
And I said..."It's lovely Irene....as lovely as the stars in the sky"
As lovely as Irene....
Goodnight Irene goodnight....the stars will shine brighter tonight,...
Stars always shine brighter in December........
Goodnight Irene, goodnight....
_________________________________________________________________________
Categories:
fretted, birthday, home, husband, me,
Form:
Free verse
Grunttenly I fretted the krakening;
Asthe ship dawns the horizon;
Burtworthy emplosions grafting;
Microrations gobblestone variants;
Up holding yon populats;
Ole!! thy fellows freddled Vogonian;
Banquish thessalonian squall;
4/20/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Categories:
fretted, adventure, character, imagery, symbolism,
Form:
Vogon Poetry
I never will forget in junior high
this girl who was a two-faced friend of mine.
I can’t remember now the reason why,
but she got mad for something asinine.
She said, “I’m gonna beat you up! Be at
the park, beside the water tower.” She
then told me, “Bet you won’t show up.” That brat
was MEAN! All day I fretted needlessly
of what could be a real bad episode!
So after school with my best friend, I went
And waited for that witch; she never showed!
With great relief, I then began to vent
to my best friend of things that we could do
to that “tough girl” - a chicken through and through!
*True story & dedicated to my junior high school foe, who later
went on to marry (and then divorce) the brother of my BEST friend!
Categories:
fretted, friend, funny, high school,
Form:
Sonnet
Now, the other day Dragon over heard it said that, eventually, we all must die.
Now remember he is only 2 years old, and suddenly he’s worried about me, sigh!
Yes, my hair is gray, and yes, my old bones do creak, but I have more left in me…
I’ll be here tomorrow, and be your Mama, for a while, this I know, Trust me!
He continued to fret, so I explained the cycle of life, but said I’m not dead, YET!
Now he wanted to know… if he could go with me… when I eventually leave…
So I told him as my Dragon, if he truly wanted to go… he could leave with me…
But why should he want to go… if I am in Heaven, looking down for him, to see.
For I will be the brightest star, watching him, endlessly… I will never leave…
But he is rather smart, for a 2 year old to be, so how can he remain alive, you see?
He was born from my imagination so, he ask: How, oh how, will he survive?
Not to worry, I did say… for I’ll put you in a series of books, to keep you alive.
He didn’t understand, and fretted and cried, still some more, how could he survive?
When on a shelf in some old dusty store, how could he ever truly, be truly alive?
I said, by the imagination of those who read that book, he’d survive, truly, indeed!
For people are all made up, of all the past experiences and all that they do read.
What Mama wouldn’t want to keep your book, to read to their, own sweet children?
Or I can make you magic, if you want, to travel the world… you’ll be just like Merlin.
Then you can visit every country and town, in every language, known everywhere.
At that he stopped his crying and fretting, but the hiccups didn’t leave, with the tears.
So I got out some paper bags, and said Breathe… Dragon… Slowly… Breathe…
But darned if he didn’t light them all afire, until I ran out of bags with his last sneeze.
I realized the hiccups were getting worse, but Grandpa Troll said not to worry, at all…
He said…You’re favorite color is blue, isn’t it? And you think ice is as cool as fire?
Well, don’t worry! Shortly, any moment now! He’s about to be able to throw ICE!
What, Oh What, has my imagination done… How do you deal with ice?
My Oh My! Suddenly, I felt like a deer caught…In The Headlights!
Gee, with Dragon it seems, there’s always going to, be Another Surprise!
Categories:
fretted, fantasy, fun, happiness, happy,
Form:
Light Verse
One fleeting Friday Freda Foster fretted at the frog pond. She said" This was suppose
To be my day."
I said yeah, go on. "I've been invited to this gala affair at THE JUKE
BOX JAM owned by Sam and I simply have nothing to wear. The
Next day Freda tossed three torn jeans in the trash. Just then Jesse jumped
The juke box and did the jig James and Jonesy joined in, and Willy
Watched as he too started jigging, and he did the jig with Wendy.
It was a BLAST. They went up stairs and sat in chairs and played the
Juke box and did the jig real fast. Talked all night about the jigful past
And other dances that last.
When they went home DAY break shown. It was so surreal. Next
SATURDAY should be the same so socialize. Jesse called Jonesy,
Jonesy called James. A three way conversation of cordial contention.
"Hey man how do you feel?" James asked JONESY
"Man we went all night. I feel alright."
Jesse added "and I feel alright we jigged and we jived."
They agreed in unison. "The thing was live."
This coming Saturday we'll surely bring the girls yeah all
Three JOLIE, JULIA, AND JUSTINE. Yes, then we will all show for a
Sensational Saturday. They all agreed next week SATURDAY will
Have swag, and swing and some swang and sway.
Will Freda and Freddie Foster follow? They're so funny. Those two
Are on the money.
Oh yeah. They'll be there.
Categories:
fretted, angst, dance,
Form:
Alliteration
She moved away and I stayed here
and somewhat hard it's been,
to laugh and cry and be without,
my old and dearest friend.
I never, ever hear from her.
No cards or calls come through.
For years I'd thought our friendship
was as strong as super glue.
First I fretted, then I worried,
then I vowed until the end.
I would never treat her so,
this very favorite of my friends.
I'd call and chat like in the past
and things would seem just great.
But never did she call me back
no matter what the wait.
Time has worked its miracle
and I no longer grieve.
For friendship stored in plastic bags;
there's probably not much need.
Someday perhaps we'll dust it off,
to see what time has done.
Have hungry moths been in the cloth
and 'holes' what it's become?
Can we still have our coffee hour,
then sit there half the day?
Once we seemed inseparable,
but now go separate ways.
"The proof is in the pudding",
as my mother always said.
The truth be known, I stand in fear,
our friendship's ‘pooped the bed’.
Categories:
fretted, absence, friendship, hurt, missing,
Form:
Rhyme
We'd scarcely begun our journey
to the sunny south when the sky's roof
descended and hung a shelf overhead.
"God is now joining us," she said.
On the long bridge over the ocean
toward Madeira Beach, an ear-splitting
screech interrupted speech. Brakes
screamed as an auto coming forward
crossed the median into our lane.
She immediately jerked the wheel
to the right. He missed us by inches.
We moved on in stunned silence.
Clearly, we had looked death
in the face, and won. Mere seconds
measured the difference.
Driving home in heavy fog, she fretted.
Zero visibility brought anxiety.
"I've got you covered," she heard.
"Haven't I had you covered,
from the beginning?"
cfa © 1/31/11
Categories:
fretted, adventure, prayer, travel,
Form:
Narrative
The other day I saw the most pathetic thing I think I shall ever see!
It was so macabre and shocking that it piqued my curiosity!
Seems this old miser died having atoned for his many transgressions,
But was adamant about taking with him all his earthly possessions!
He had derided that well-known saw, "you can't take it with you",
And asserted, "Them's my things that took a lifetime to accrue!"
Even on his deathbed as he breathed his last and ceased to function,
He fretted about his stuff as the priest administered extreme unction!
In the funeral procession behind the hearse was a huge U-Haul truck,
Containing his suits and shoes, booze and gold plus all his other ruck!
Oft' I've pondered about that old tightwad and his ultimate fate,
And how St Peter handled the matter when he greeted him at the Gate!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Categories:
fretted, death, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
You probably never knew it,
But I once lived within five blocks of you.
I and my kids visited you often to play and to view.
You consumed us with sea shells, sand castles, beach balls, and a Frisbee.
Those gallant waves from across the sea, most times, were as calm as can be,
Slowly washing up on the shores, but occasionally, splashing against the rocks. Your reliability and timeliness are so superior to my own and more faithful than clocks.
From your sandy shores on a none foggy day,
Sometimes atop the sea cliffs, whether bright or gray,
I watched the seagulls and my dear children play.
Often your winds were enough to take my breath away.
But I never fretted, because I treasured what you had to say.
I miss those regular visits, bringing you greetings.
I wish that I could sit in those special meetings- The ones where you and the moon make plans and plots.
When the two of you with your creator decide, El Nino’s or not
I miss standing above your gusty shores on an observation deck, viewing a Golden Bridge. I miss the sunsets so enchantingly
beautiful, as they sheepishly hide beyond the waters. I miss the
soothing fog horns of ships sailing in. O Pacific, the list is much
too long of what I miss.
Categories:
fretted, beach, beauty, memory, nature,
Form:
Personification
Overflowing like the sparkling spring from acerbity,
The emerald stones on the relieve peak
Causing welling up like stormy waves,
And breath taking halt, grunting
Roar as the thundering drums reverberating;
The window pout unfold a feature
As when open wide,
Spoilt by the joyful loudness of croaking;
Grief lips drawn taut
Drop spreading flow,
Drop to wash the ripe Apple cheeky, drop
And meandering through grooves and porous ream
Obstacles of pendants and pillars;
Conclusively arrived, making the jugular waterfall,
Cascading into sea of tears.
True, men do not weep
That bespeaks Hercules vaunting ego,
But, I thank you sir,
Often they sob now or before
Not for unfaithful heart breaks
For loves aplenty,
Not often loves for not excusing
In passing by to greater beyond,
But on lucrative dear deal that sore gone,
On capital fretted away
On good look in,
But crash without remorseful pity
The masculine effeminately swim in river of tears.
Strokes of wipes to back from savage master
The oppressive bully to hapless youth,
Which draws livid reddish lines picture
And rabid yell of agony on twisted mouth,
When puerile little lad yelp
Could be for appeasing breast
But, definitely not for help,
Could lustfully be warmth of mama’s arms,
Things we’re n't aware but peradventure leg to arms
Or nothing, whichever way,
Their stubborn screaming suggest
Ways of impuissant expressing unanswered request.
Tears of gladness
Moved to elevating joy,
To see again long time lost love,
Surely for ages and time agone
Surprising hugs with all kisses,
Dearest who aforethought cross beyond
But now you are prospering.
Categories:
fretted, funnytime,
Form:
Lyric