When I bring home a deer...
to live in our living room, my roommate
won't hear of it. Fear of what? I will ask.
He has no horns. He eats only oats, but
not yours only; I bought him some food.
He's not even hairy. I'm not even sorry
I brought him home. He'll sleep with me
on the floor of the washroom. I'll wash
him down with a hose and a broom.
I suppose you think there's no room
for a deer without antlers (as dear
as he is). What do you want? I should
bring home a goat?
I'd like to give you an ounce of perfume
that I borrowed from honeysuckle vine.
This scent is old, more lovely, one presumes
than French perfume always made by design.
This scent leads me back to my childhood days,
I hear ringing echoes of our voices,
running barefoot over hidden pathways--
days before we had to make life's choices.
Carefree days of locust blooms, apple pies;
forever friends, we innocently thought.
Never worried past our wondering eyes--
pretending life, chasing dreams sometimes caught.
Come, we'll sit on my childhood backdoor stairs,
search for dreams always in plentiful bloom.
We'll stay only to hear memories' airs.
The ticket's in honeysuckle perfume.
Bring Me Home Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
4th place
(Poem updated 1/18/2022)
I was scratched and scraped to smithereens,
But luckily had collected enough sticklefarts
to bake a pie, and make some tasty tartlsnidds with greens.
We have some cracklwhif, mom suggested with cozy hearts.
I ate a tiddlewad of hamburgers and some snackpoots to get ready
For the dessert hot out of the oven, and man was it ever fine!
My limperfitch said “Good job little humperwhip,” instead of Freddy.
A marvelous asswarpletrip from this man who always towed the line.
Can you boodenphasrhump yourself up enough to help me in the kitchen?
Asked my crabblicious sister who is always got some hives that are itch’n.
She cannot resist sticklefarts, and was glad to see her scarf down a pie.
Soon she had blotches all over her face, even over each one of her eyes.
“You know better!” Limerfitch said to her. “Get the Benadryl and go to bed.”
I had a chance to beat him at Sticklefingke and I smirked in my head.
Part of me gets scratched up and soiled just to see my sister get sent away.
Because it is more fun to win a game than lose every single time you play.
Cauldron was lost somewhere during a storm full of fright.
It was a horrible angry windy October night.
His owner, Mac Witch was afraid for her kitty.
She sent out a search party led by Gargoyle McDitty.
They searched in every hollow tree, ditch and crevice tree trunk.
Cauldron was gone, and they had to finally give up and bunk.
Mac Witch was so sad she could not eat, drink, or cast her spells.
She pictured Cauldron injured, meowing, from the bottom of wells.
The storm lasted six days and two hours. Never letting up.
Mac Witch was a wreck. She lost two pounds, and she could not sup.
Where is my kitty? She asked the stormy blurry blackened skies.
And then she saw something that made her rub her eyes.
An Air Force of Bats- over twenty at least, were flying quite near
She knew this could mean vampires, so she had plenty to fear.
But a mewing sound from a witch’s hat made her stay and see.
They had brought Cauldron home! Her best friend and Kitty!
this is a need
indeed
and a fact
bring repect back
this is our town
to many our people down
look treated like a clown
this has to be set
BRING HOME REPECT