Let's fly to Vienna
When can we go?
There's chalets, there's music
There's museums, there's snow
A painter was born there
He painted, The Kiss
I'll demonstrate on you
Something like this
Come forward towards me
Let us embrace
Tilt your head left
Then I'll kiss your face
Left hand on my right hand
My left 'round your neck
The kiss you'll receive
Will be more than a peck
The passion he captured
Is the goal I have too
If you'll let me try out
The kiss now on you
And when I'm all finished
I won't disagree
If you want to give back
The kiss then to me
Christmas Tree
Little bits of silver tinsel,
Velvet ribbons and shiny globes,
Strings of stars borrowed from the heavens
Next to angels with golden hair;
Flying sleighs and drummer boys,
Sweet candy canes and satin bows
Hang from boughs of fir or pine
Where elfin dolls and teddy bears
Survey surroundings from their boughs
With quaint chalets and paper stars
Made with glitter by tiny hands
With a loving touch to weave love's spell
Into hearts of all who see
These fragile gifts
That so carefully hang
By China bells and Christmas geese,
Stern toy soldiers and horns of brass,
Skating bears and soaring doves,
A reindeer with his red nose
Blinking -
Glittering tree of holiday wonder
Brought from the forest
Of evergreen
Decked with ornaments,
Made from memories,
Now a Christmas vision
In the hearts
Of children ever young.
Sweetie pie, let's fly, let's fly
To somewhere far away
With summits, fjords, and snowy peaks
And cozy, warm chalets
A wood stove that is roaring
The scent of burning wood
Velour robes of cotton
Two in one, so good
I know it's cold, don't worry
We'll figure something out
I've some ideas I'll tell you
In private, not to tout
Or let's find a hidden beach somewhere
Secluded and secure
With crystal turquoise water
And pink sand on the shore
A beach umbrella made for two
A gingham blanket for
Eating, napping, reading on
And who knows? Maybe more
We'll spend the day together
And wait until sunset
Then what comes next we'll talk about
The night holds fervor yet
Fish flesh ceiling marinades evening in mandarin
Paprika streaks Alaskan sky, an exploded pumpkin
Garish stretch marks bruise tumid buttocks
Jack-o'-lantern flicker silhouettes summits
Door open draught steers me over masts, a compass
North chill Turmeric tingle bitterness burns sun jus
Snuffs frail wick candle into cavern skull sockets
Frigid fuselage discarded from flamboyant firey rocket
Hulls doubled on calm harbour curl fetal forget me not
Petal precious postcard sends rocking sleep to yachts
Resistant pristine peaks poke holes blood gush painful
Ski slid accident on apex restores pale flesh to angel
Pressed panes mist to witness her wings in awe, glory!
Nest of pick up sticks prickle, due dusk warns me
Crept shadows of chalets' thatched porches protect
Navy as battle ships torn apart, needle inks inject
So strange this land, old and yet young.
Where is this place of tall green trees,
and grey-haired men in unknown tongue?
they must have traveled summer's breeze.
Adobe brick quonset "chalets"
mud-soaked roadways in all the blocks.
WACs and wives and waifs everyday
midst hollyhocks and four o'clocks.
Los Alamos*, this place must be.
A land of Oz 'neath bluest sky.
Where science dealt humanity
a fatal blow, then watched it die.
A perfect paradox is this.
How splendid to contrast the two--
a lovely place/a devil's kiss,
and wisdom sprinkled like the dew.
I left quite soon but still recall
the secrets hidden on each page.
The lilac mountains looming tall,
their perfume of fission and sage.
August 5, 2022
"Terra Incognita"
for This or That, Vol. 13, poetry contest
by Edward Ibeth
*Los Alamos Laboratories, New Mexico, are where the atomic bombs were
created then dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan in WWII.
We stayed in chalets by the sea;
the holiday was worth the wait.
My happy place, my happy face.
Such fun for cousin Joan and me -
she hadn't seen the sea before,
and shouted out with playful glee;
I hadn't played in sand till then,
my trousers rolled above the knee.
The Punch and Judy show was great!
My happy face, my happy place...
the day I got to ninety-three...
written 11th March for William's Abracadabra contest
I've a predilection for remote mountain chalets
yet isolated I can be encompassed by snow.
I recognize the unearthliness of Winter's ways
maintaining a reverence for Nature's portfolio.
But apathy runs rampant among the rescue team
where I trigger condemnation should storms get extreme
and to my consternation, they may refuse to show.
(Rhyme)
Nov. 17, 2018
7 Lines, 7 Words: Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Lu Loo
Bright coloured chalets, (very dear !)
Stand close in military line,
Along the prom, beyond the pier
“NO CYCLING”, please, observe the sign.
The waves roll in with thunderous roar
To dash the pebbles on the shore.
Incongruous lighthouse in the town
Looks out above Edwardian tiles,
Across Sole Bay and looking down
Shines out for more than twenty miles.
The pride of Suffolk, on the coast,
For many not an idle boast.
Victorian sleepy seaside town,
That’s Southwold, home of Adnam’s beer.
I stroll the prom, first up, then down,
Sip coffee on the antique pier.
I love its charms and golden sands,
Winter is both beautiful and dangerous
Islands of snow caress the countryside
Nice friends that you see from day to day
Teachers of nature careful and silent
Every person dressed with style and warmth
Real days of winter where you dress fashionably
Loving the good side of winter where you can ski and skate
Outer limits where you could ski the mountains of Austria
Viceroy ski chalets where you snuggle up with your favorite companion
Every loving minute of winter is there to enhance your lifestyle
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz
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