Best Peep Poems
~
Framed by affections,
unlocked, waiting...
weathered of vibrant
thoughts and dead bolt
delusions
A portal of desperate
desires and relinquished
pain, for the light
through my cracks and crevices
now shines
My heart is hinged…
eternally by brass pins of endless dreams,
tightly fitting into
the perfect grooves of
your love
Twist with simple ease
my handle, dull and waiting
for the sheen of you
ever bright, glowing
to polish me, to make me
new
Open me, swing me freely,
so smoothly I move
allowing the morning breeze to sift
beyond peep hole shadows
creating a passage
so that I may walk so deeply
into you
10/16/2019
Little Bo-Peep adored playing hide and seek, hence the fond nickname;
Just as hued rainbow is named for its dazzle, so radiant over every lane!
Bo-Peep was eight, and lived on a farm. She had various loves and joys.
Her world was full of magic and make believe, and she had sparkly toys.
But Bo-Peep loved more than anything, tending peaceful, fleecy sheep,
A task she'd only recently started. She loved the gamboling and leaps!
Friends Frances and Faye flew kites with Bo-Peep, in berry colors, deep;
And loved folk dancing at sunset flame, under the fuchsia sky mystique.
Familiar February had fallen fast, and yielded to fresh, fragrant flowers,
In leap years of fevered, family visits, when green bared mystic powers.
Bo-Peep lived in the house of enigma, ever hailing moments unfamiliar,
When moon and sun played hide and seek, as time turnt gold and silver.
Red robins roamed rouge, dusk skies, near the royal, Ranunculus Road;
And buttercups really brightened the rosy route, where breezes blowed.
Nature knew nothing but budding, when neighbors visited the sunlit days,
In a nectarine season of noble lives, when they followed the golden rays.
Crimson bellied birds faced ruby sunset, raining its beams like cherries;
And 'lady of the night' orchids reveled in moonlight, observed by fairies!
Elegant orchids were dressed up and dancing, along hot streets of gold,
When 'blanket flowers' draped stuff with color, prettying the dull and old.
One day Bo-Peep got lost in a daydream, as the frisky lambs wandered.
She abruptly realized they'd all gone! Like seconds eternity squandered.
No bleating or baas could be heard, and there was no sound near or far;
For, not even pink robin was heard in that moment-in a stillness bizarre!
After searching the farm in vain, Bo-Peep confessed it all to her parents,
Who were calm, wise to ways of sheep; as diamonds ken facet moments.
'Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,
And can't tell where to find them;
Leave them alone, And they'll come home,
Wagging their tails behind them.'
Everything was coming up roses by dawn, like burgundy sun and blooms;
And the lambs had all returned, like spring green, emerging from its tomb.
They twitch along nerves
still wired to those fever
induced rooms, memories
of faces pressed against
windows, peering in through
curtains with their red eyes,
screams stuck in throats
suffocating to a groan
in gaping mouths.
There were places to hide
when day came around,
a dark cave inside
an iron shed with pale
constellations of old nail holes
feigning starlight overhead.
The world was kept
on the other side
of a peep hole
in the wall of the shed.
And yet there were lovely
flowers blooming
under a bright sun,
the day would carry on
with the ordinary things
that had to be done.
Terror would wear off
and morph into something
else instead, normalized
by the trick
of becoming numb,
or be little more than
a slight disturbance
fizzing in the wiring
of the head.
Besides,
who would understand
when what was there
has now moved
way beyond the vocabulary
of a word weary tongue.
Old Mother Goose
Frankly speaking was rather loose
The neighborhood was shocked and all in a dander
When she had a brief affair with a well-feathered Gander
When the news reached Jack and Jill
They took that tumble down the hill
Poor Jill lost her drawers and good gracious alive!
Little Jack got a rise in his tattered Levis...
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep!
Serves her right for fallin' asleep!
Pa wasn't happy about this turn of events,
And sent her to bed after spankin' her pants!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
******
"Close that door, hooman!!
This kitty is bare naked.
This is no peep show. "
1/29/2022
The picture was taken from the internet
I don't own the Copyrights
people power will take the day,
from the rich and petty way,
will it, fairness for all,
give the master taste of gall,
the poor to own the day...
we do not need the misletoe, predator rich,
sucking the life blood from us stiffs,,
remove greed is what i say,
people power the just eclipse...
then it be bloody ok...
It happened again to Bo Peep.
She'd gone off and lost all her sheep.
Met a woodsman named Ted
They spent time in his shed.
Bo cared not a Peep about sheep!
BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Little Bo Peep ignored her flock
She let Ted undo her tight frock
They had passionate sex
In his parent’s duplex
The poor sheep they all ran amock.
BY JAN ALLISON
Exhausted Bo Peep had to lay down her head
But Ted kept one sheep in back of the shed
Since she was unable
He hid under a table
So his sheep was the first to be Ted bred!
BY PAT ADAMS
Now rested, Bo woke in disgust
To find ewe and Ted in mid-thrust
So she took some pink pills
Then she ran for the hills
Looking for one she could trust!
BY DEAN WOOD
A reckless tale indeed in losing all of her sheep
In not seeing such need she just went to sleep
All of her sheep strayed in her not being around
Having all been sleighed when she finally found
The Shepherd is the key as how the herd will do
Dangers they can not see just like me and you
The Shepherd, "who created Heaven and Earth"
Says in His Own Word He knew you before birth
Our watchful Lord with His Mercy always at hand
So worshiped and Adored by they who understand
But the rest of the herd wondering off in the meadow
None of it has even occurred for what do sheep know
It was Jesus who called us sheep in knowing our way
He also said many would weep in so choosing to stray
Be not of a little Bo Peep, carefully choosing a Shepherd
Not being like those who will weep, or hasn't it occurred
THE LAST PEEP
The dawn knocked at the night’s door
That was sleeping on the time’s floor
Sunrays rushed in, starting to play
Night out went, and in came the day
Stars, at once, vanished from the sky
As the sun proudly climbed up high
Over the clear skies rode with glee
His likeness upon the waters trying to see
I observed him gallop from East to West
When his work was done, he wanted to rest
Kissed the day goodnight, all set ready to sleep
But before going down HE had a very last PEEP!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
17 February 2013
A shepherd girl named Bo Peep lost her sheep and her Jeep
And didn't know where to find them.
She fell asleep stoned,
When she woke they were gone,
Leaving hoof prints and tire tracks behind them.
She offered as ransom a handsome reward
And assured there'd be no repercussions.
Then the cops said, "Go home
And wait by the phone
For the culprit to call with instructions."
They nabbed an indigent herder who confessed to the murder
Of all of her sheep and to stealing her Jeep.
But still Little Bo Peep lost her job herding sheep,
And then, to her added dismayment,
She lost her practically new Jeep Grand Cherokee, too,
When she couldn't keep up with the payments.
Let this be a lesson, boys and girls, when you're grown
And are working and making it all on your own.
Though it is an annoyment, you only get unemployment,
If you're laid off, not fired,
From the place you were hired.
Little Bo Peep lost her sheep
Well, that story's simply not true
And if you'll give me a minute
I'll tell the real story to you
Peep needed money, she was in a bind
To pay off some gambling debts
And I am the FairyTale Investigator
Just in case, some of you forgets
She took those sheep to a pawn shop
And she got a really good price
But instead of paying her debtors
She decided to roll the dice
She even played some blackjack
But the cards didn't fall her way
We knew that something was fishy
When another sheep went missing that day
We tailed her to 7th street pawn shop
That's where the arrest was made
She should already be in prison
But I found out the trial was delayed
They say, she's now our informant
And the fairytales are all on the run
So, stay tuned, til you see my next poem
I promise, there's more to come
The peep of morning's winking light
Woke the rooster's sour and tart crowing musical assault
He assaulted my senses until they will be heard
"up you lazy body"
Arise and greet the sleeping mongrel...
His fleas beg to be fed!
When through the keyhole he did peep,
he saw his parents on their bed.
He thought that they would be asleep.
But something else he saw instead.
He thought they’d heard him at the door
when through the keyhole he did peep.
He ran away in silence, for
he feared to be in trouble deep.
He’d seen them lying with a heap
of snacks he’d never known about.
When through the keyhole he did peep,
at last their secret he found out!
“No chips or cookies given me,”
their young son thought, “they are so cheap!”
What awesome junk food he could see
when through the keyhole he did peep.
Jan. 22, 2019 for John Lawless' Slap Muse And Turn It Loose Poetry Contest
Easter egg hunts are proof your child can find things when they really want to. —Unknown
Peep, peep, peep, peeping, chirping, tweeting, peeping
cheeping wildly, declaring they aren’t sleeping
tiny cracks in shells, sure they’re alive and well,
each fluffy chick comes out in a soft pastel.
Peep, peep, peep, tweeting vigorously, quickly
so we are certain they’re quite strong, not sickly
searching for those bugs and worms, where is their mum?
ravenous, they’re sure to eat up every crumb!
Peep, peep, peep, cheeping so the whole world will know,
it won’t be long before their feathers will grow,
and, they’ll be pecking away in the barn’s stalls,
peeping at the farmer in his overalls.
Peep, peep, peep, singing until their heart’s content,
thinking they might be some child’s Easter present,
fragile wings guide them over the hay and dust,
reminding, in time, to farm life, they’ll adjust.
Peep, peep, peep, chirruping like they’ll never stop,
fluttering round the pigs who’re eating their slop,
trying to coax the cows to give them a drink,
darting in cow patties even though they stink.
Peep, peep, peep, squeaking merrily, their brisk songs,
poking creepy-crawlies, like their beak belongs,
never once forgetting secrets their mum taught,
the mysteries of a world where they knew nought.
Peep, peep, peep, peeping, chirping, tweeting, peeping,
wise as skies, where their gentle hearts are keeping,
panicking inside when the cat comes sneaking,
soothing chicks who know mother hen is peaking!