Best Shay Poems
Today I thought about you,
But not the way that I usually think
But just a touch deeper than yesterday
So; I named today Shay.
Today Shay was Shay
You are angelic as always
Pressing my soul with each thought
Presenting Love is how you taught
Your heart is virginal, perpetually aiming to please
Your utterance always seeming loud enough just for me
Your kindness overbearing your ways
As a minute of your love persist for days
You’re the only one I know;
Who has a hand small enough to soften my heart
And a step submissive enough to enter my sphere
None the less there's eminence when you're near
Just those very sincere reasons,
Carry me to a cease in my journey,
As I searched to encounter love that’s true
When all along it was you.
Today I thought about you,
But not the way that I usually think
But just a touch deeper than yesterday
So; I named today Shay.
Alive, yet shaken to the
core of her lovely bones
youngest offspring unexpectedly
lost control of vehicle and groans
papa unable to comfort her,
she inconsolable sobbing tears
muffling thru telephones
safe and sound nonetheless
shook up like rolling stones.
Though dwelling bajillion miles away
in Bend Oregon beloved daughter
endearing supportive words
I tried to say
aware sullen mood
fifty plus shades of gray
impossible mission
to assuage grievous
state, especially cuz
accompanying passengers
namely my sister,
and Dunning family did display
anger at recklessness,
though harsh words
merely exacerbated upset
lass - earlier today
August seventh two
thousand nineteen flay
grant over cockiness
best appeased with je
nais sais quois gentle
kindness versus reprobation,
yet quite aware
castigating shrieks nee,
livid rage reflexive from
kid sister otherwise mellow
nonetheless hardpressed
regarding this fellow
to envision ordinarily
calm, cool and collected
sibling to rage and soulfully bellow,
yet informed charming product begat
courtesy mine biological
flesh and blood no
benefit arises to chastise
i.e. figurative flagellation
pinging hither and yon to and fro
but eternally thankful no loss of life...
whew, this dada would never know
reason nor rhyme
to continue livingsocial
purposefulness would heighten grow
wing suicidal ideation - I haint joe
king absolute zero
willpower to write poe
whit tree and/or flash fiction
decidedly, essentially, fervently toe
tilly tubular lee mein
kampf spirit bro
kin, analogous to falling off
skyhigh wall apropos
bailing out hatch of airplane
minus parachute gratefully dead
upon impact resembling red jello
splattered, the closest
aye attain tubby jiggle oh.
Your my Son, my little man, my miracle child.
You are my life,my joy, my love.
I need you to make my life complete.
I sit and watch you so still, so many tubes invading your body.
I can't touch you or talk to you. They say the stimulation is'nt good.
How i wish i could take it all away, take back the day it all began.
The day dawned bright and pretty, so much fun to be had.
In a second our world changed,the jump you so wanted to make, the crash, your
body so still and bleeding on the ground.
The fear in your Dad's eyes, the ache in my heart.
Now we sit and worry we'll lose you forever, we wonder what life holds for you
and us when this is over.
Will you still be my Shay-Shay, my tough little man so always on the go.
What does our future hold? This i do not know.
I do know that we love you and will be with you no matter what life gives us.
Son you are my life, my world, my everything.
Our love for you will get us through, Just remember Shay-Shay I love you.
Shay wore her hat lop-sided, in a jaunty, chic way.
On her it looked adorable, made her look exotic!
On the rest of us it looked silly, ridiculous
And we could not keep it on our hair any way.
Shay was the first one to paint her nails orange.
We had never seen that before. Where did she get orange polish?
This was the sixties. No one had any idea where she got it.
When we finally found it and put it on we looked like Halloween rejects.
Shay was from a big city; we tried to do everything she did.
A couple of weeks or months later, when it was out of style
or maybe we were just not sophisticated and smooth as she was.
When she went back to Des Moines she took her snappiness with her.
We were both called Shorty, me and this new cowpoke Shay.
He had a disappointed attitude that could be seen a mile away.
I did not like him instantly, he annoyed my organized mind.
He was not to my liking or taste, we were not two of a kind.
Shay was a loud mouth, thought his jokes were a hoot.
He was a weird co-worker, an ornery, persnickety coot.
I could not stand him until I got in trouble one day.
Who came to my aid? That ornery guy name of Shay.
We became friends after that; I taught him to shoot
He taught me to keep folding money in my right boot.
That Needham rifle was his, but he gave it to me.
When he was sick with the cancer in 1873.