Best Settee Poems
She did not have to guess.
She felt it in her bones.
Unfaithful he always was,
Unfaithful he'll always be.
She knew where he would be.
Anger flared in the pit of her stomach,
A heart-wrenching in the ache of fire.
What could she do? Revenge?
She rejected such thoughts
Knowing well enough
She was no match against him.
Why couldn't he love only her?
Why did he leave her dehydrated of love?
As in the Fall, her love-like leaves
Fell down, turned brown,
Definitely to be lost forever.
She'll do without him, come what may.
Thus she lay on her settee, love choked,
Folded herself foetus-like,
Relishing the darkness of her abode.
Another lonely night, cursing her dreams.
A wave of nausea gripped her soul,
Knew she'll have to take her medication
Before she really turned sick.
She swallowed the two pills,
She would not please him and have more.
But she could not resist
Drinking ruby red dry wine.
She felt confused. Did she swallow her pills?
Doubt after doubt after doubt.
Her bottle seemed empty.
So she drank some more.
Finally, she slept
Alone, abandoned on the settee.
Categories:
settee, abuse, wife,
Form:
Free verse
All became purview in her constant gaze ~
eyes that followed, no matter my corner,
nor settee where fleur-de-lis begged recline ~
and, no peace was found in voyeuristic laze.
Even in the vestibule - through the door
she stares
~ her beauty lingers there and captures
daydreams that share this moment in time.
I wonder ~ did the artist love her too,
he, who captured every seductive line
of wanting eyes and impatient grin?
How can one wish they'd never met a painting
without knowing ~ lost love...
Categories:
settee, art, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
‘MY BROKEN HEART’
Poem to Richard Madeley and Judy Finnegan
Here is my heart, broken in two.
Because I lost my chance to appear with you.
The greatest chance of my life, I’ve ever had,
To talk about my writing although it’s sad,
To meet denise again, the signed photo she gave me in ‘95’
Hangs on our kitchen wall with great pride.
I would never have gone on holiday to Skegness,
If I had known the outcome would have caused me so much distress,
To be contacted three times by you’re researcher, Nicola McNeleus
To be asked to appear on your show as a guest.
It broke my heart. When I found all her messages, but by then it was to late,
I would have come back from holiday, Done anything to keep that date.
I watch your show every day,
Please god let them give me another chance I pray,
I would give anything in this would to be.
Sitting with my husband with you two on that settee,
With my eighteen-year tranquilliser addiction and agoraphobia, I’ve been to hell and
back,
But now my life is back on track.
To give hope to others, to show the world what I have done,
Who knows it may even be fun.
So please Richard and Judy, answer my prayer,
Please, Please Please, let us be there.
Categories:
settee, lifeme, me,
Form:
Rhyme
How many Guinea Pigs can you see?
Is it one, or two, or maybe three?
There's Honey and Sweetie, and Old Master Monty,
He ogles the girls 'till his eyes go quite wonky.
As to which one's the best, we just can't agree
'Cos they all belong to my sister and me
They live out of doors in a house made by Dad,
It's lovely and posh, the best they could have
A bit like on holiday when your' van's been delayed
They shout, "on the house", A PLATINUM UPGRADE.
For having to wait, It's totally free
We're both very grateful, my sister and me.
We all love those Guinea Pigs, of that there's no doubt,
But when it comes to cleaning them out
We both try pretending it's the other one's turn
We go for the wind up but we both need to learn
That nothing worth having ever comes easily,
And one day we'll get there, my sister and me.
How long do you think there'll be only three?
Suppose they gave babies, like a real family.
There'll be hundreds of Poohs and thousands of wee's
I hope they don't do it on the brand new settee
Old Master Monty will be as proud as can be
As he blinks a sly wink at my sister and me.
Categories:
settee, animal, funny, growing up,
Form:
Rhyme
Tea Party
Bright early morning
Courtyard opens to the clear blue unclouded sky
Mourning dove with their cheerful cooing
Lush, crisp, green, grassy, lawn,
Garden flourishes with yellow daffodils, pink lilies, and budding pink roses
Latticework lavish entanglement of sweet fragrant jasmine
My angelic little girl sits on the settee in the pavilion
full of pillows and a blue blanket in case it gets cold
wearing my long string pearls with her ruffle white lace dress
Mama, papa, and baby teddy bears, sit all around her
A tea party she entertains serving tea, cake, and cookies
Everyone invited
With tenderness, giving a drink of tea to her favorite teddy May
I observe my little girl sitting on the settee in the pavilion
A beholding sight
2/4/2015
https://th.bing.com/th?id=OIP.7fwDq6w
UEfQXfhRLceuG0QHaIv&pid=Api&rs=1
Categories:
settee, child, daffodils, garden, girl,
Form:
Free verse
Sadly she sits on her brand new couch with ease
Sitting elegantly in her midday dress
Her wine sits on a table, it seems a tease
She looks sad just like someone that could care less
Her white cat lies at the foot of her settee
She rubs the belly of the lovely kitty
The woman sighs with an emphatic exhale
Her grief ignited by her mood that is pale
Russell Sivey
Categories:
settee, depression, life, woman,
Form:
Rispetto
A gentleman came calling for Betty.
The house Madam said wait on the settee.
Betty came running down.
Tried to change the man's frown.
But she had been so busy already.
This is for the Bawdy limy contest, though not very bawdy.
Categories:
settee, caregiving,
Form:
Limerick
On some English grass
On a piece of land forever England
Warriors of the realm
Take holy orders, on their Fathers grave
To defend the honour of their local pub
For this is the noble art of Sunday league Football
The crowds bay for blood
Shouts of foul and blind as a bat
The decision absurd
The referee a drunkard
Shouts of bar steward,
And your mothers questionable character
Cleaned up for posterity
The game goes on
Frank, the winger another yellow card
Another fine, I fear he will be barred
Groans for Bill a night watchman by trade
I think he’s a blade (Sheffield United supporter)
But not a very good keeper I’m afraid
Then there’s the striker
Super king Jack, 40 a day and a cough to match
Will need a penalty to score in this match
What about ken, a beer belly full back,
Rarely runs for fear of a heart attack
And slugger the centre half
Likes to break legs,
And still the only guy to sup a half a keg
Smooth talking tommy pulls birds on the six yard line
Greased black hair, and knobbly knees to match
Still Skill is not this team’s forte, for we are Britain’s
Taking part is our religion
Lost another game two nil
But won three two at fighting, brill
Bottom of the league
Fines galore
First Aid in the pub
A good drink after
Enemies in the field, but forever friends in laughter.
That’s Sunday football league
Home to the wife
And Sunday dinner, roast beef and Yorkshire pud
Another bottle of bud
Feet up, settee calls
Dreams of Wembley, and Sheffield Wednesday
Not a bad life for this Yorkshire clan
Here in Sheffield where football began.
Categories:
settee, friendship, funny, sports, fear,
Form:
Free verse
Mum really likes her Moggy.
The cats her pride and joy.
I swear to God it"s pampered,
much more than US her boys!
The cat it understands this,
and goes out of its way.
To suck up to my Mother,
at least ten times a day!
It really makes me jealous,
so much i gotta mention.
That cat gets on my wick.
Commanding Mums attention.
So i devised a plan,
to get a little pay back.
The best form of defence
is to go on the attack!
A family "DO" was coming.
It really made me think.
A chance for some revenge.
there"s gonna be some Drink!
The big night it arrived.
My plans were put in place.
I acted all polite,
angelic round the face.
The Party in full swing.
I borrowed Gordons Gin,
and poured it in cats bowl.
The one beside the bin.
I added the full cream.
The cat could not resist.
He lapped and lapped relapsed!
By now he was well pissed!
He threw up in the kitchen.
He threw up in the hall.
My plan was on its way,
he was heading for a fall!
I lifted Moggy up,
then opened up the door,
and promptly put him down,
upon the living room floor.
He staggered round about.
It really was a shame,
poor old Mr Moggy,
he was really out the game.
My Mothers jaw just dropped.
As Moggy took a pee,
in front of all the guests
atop the new settee.
Yes revenge is best served cold.
What else can i say.
Poor old Mr Moggy,
it just was not his day!
I said the first thing in my head.
I know it was a sin.
But i couldn"t help but say,
"Look what the cat drank in!"
Categories:
settee, funnycat, old, cat, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Night bring terrible memories,
shadows of yesteryears,
it takes my breath away
in fears, anguish and hell.
An ugly wolf runs after me
as I slither in the mud
heart beats burst my chest with pains.
Please take away those forces
that rumble in my midriff
driving me crazy with dread.
I cannot cry, I can only pray
that dawn arrives
with its damask cupola
when stars fade away
and the moon hides its face in shame.
Why is the break of day so far away?
I lie numb on the settee
Perspiration running down my cheeks.
I skate near life's edge
I try to grab a lifeline,
find only puffs of hot dry air.
And time goes by so slowly,
pain like the claws of an eagle
squash my soul of its life.
No, I will not cry, I will only pray.
Dear God, thanks,
You've given me a new day.
Categories:
settee, night,
Form:
Free verse
Hitch up those gitches and ambulate across the way to a brother's abode and visit awhile on the settee. Don't beat the mule for stubbornness he's just a creature of the earth.
Did you burn a yule log to purify your home from grudges!
Jan. 6th Kings day....suppose to be the day the wise men met the new born Jesus. 12 days post birth.
you are a hoot....but I've got to scoot on down to the sanctuary for soul revival....need a little pep in my boots
Categories:
settee, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
with whispers she makes shadows all hold hands
the West wind turns it's back at her command.
With one cold glance the daisies lose their leaves
she holds nature in her thrall, she believes.
Making potions in a jar to made-up tunes,
telling fortunes using Lego bricks for runes.
Poppy says she's had the gift since she was ten,
Mum hopes she'll grow out of it, who knows when.
With crystals, string, a map and twigs for rods
she finds lost things, assisted by the Gods.
A hair grip that she wore when she was three
and a boiled sweet down the back of the settee.
Buoyed by this success, she moved out to the fields
to see what her divining skills could yield.
Dry leaves sighed with every step she made,
the rods directing Poppy through the glade
when a hand took hold her ankle from the ground
from something that did not want to be found.
Faded posters on the lamp posts now replaced
with another set that feature Poppy's face.
Two missing girls, the same town, in five years,
children play behind locked gates amidst their fears
'till father time puts all of this behind them, but
Lucy says she has a gift-
and she can find them.
Categories:
settee, dark,
Form:
Rhyme
I saw the officious black car drive off from my house as I entered the street.
I will never forget the date.
It was the first day of September,
in fact I have cursed that date ever since.
I will never forget the time either,
I saw it on the big kitchen clock
as I came in and dumped my school bag.
It was fourteen minutes past four.
The sun was still shining brightly outside,
but the heat had gone out of the day.
Then I heard my Mother crying,
crying and wailing with big sobs
like she had the hiccups.
She was sitting right on the edge of the settee.
A hanky covered both her hands as
her head rocked gently back and forth.
One of her heels was out from her shoe,
pointing awkwardly upwards.
There was a letter lying on the floor.
A hand delivered letter.
We had had a visitor.
I cursed the fact my Father wasn"t home,
I did not know what to say or do.
I did a lot of cursing that day,
but most of all I cursed the day
my Brother ever joined the Army.
Two Weeks Later.
As I walk in to the room
to say my last goodbye.
I wonder if you know,
could see and hear me cry.
If somewhere up above,
you could look down and see.
Know how much your missed,
for once we would agree.
I find it oh so hard
to say a last goodbye,
I curse this heaven and earth
and only wonder why.
Nothing seems to shift
this empty nagging pain.
So I say my last goodbye
until we meet again.
And meet again we must,
for it wasn"t till that day.
That I found out to late
I have so much to say.
I want to tell you this
I love you like no other.
Oh why did God take you
my one and only Brother.
Categories:
settee, war, day, i love
Form:
Rhyme
'What is special in this world?
I'm tired of it!'
I often say within
'Beautiful and full of merriment'
I never realized.
I got a phone call from a friend
to meet
at club, zealous
to have the zest of the day
I dashed in as object
being controlling by air, to change my cloth
Heaven sent, the heavens opened
I sat upon a settee, waiting for the rain to stop
Sea rise a mountain, flood waters ubiquitous
Floor is swallowing houses
it has heist many properties
Like-wise peoples have wounded,
Stream dripped down my cheek
A traumatic experience this is!,
My heart thudded, nearly separated from chest
I screamed loudly
'Ha! It is a dream,' I was on the settee
Waiting for rain to cut off
Ho! Life without praising the lord is an empty life
Categories:
settee, addiction, allegory, anxiety,
Form:
Ode
I think of life with an elegant man.
I see a man whose hands are silk to me.
He's stunning in a suit (well-groomed is he).
He loves to read and maybe plays Chopin.
He whisks me off to Paris or Milan.
His dwelling has divans and a nice settee.
We meet the afternoons for chat and tea,
then ride inside a chauffeured black sedan.
Such a man a mystery shall remain.
For me - champagne to my accustomed beer.
I steered toward one whose words and deeds are plain.
He has no care for things that I revere.
For art and culture my man has disdain.
He's strong and bronzed, though, and his heart's sincere.
July 31, 2021
For Chantelle Anne Cooke's Anything You Want - Must Be New Poem Contest
Categories:
settee, men,
Form:
Italian Sonnet