The Fashion Show
I took pattern making autumns ago
I measured and cut a bodice to sew
A vintage cocktail dress trimmed with mojo
Louie Fifteen Courts would never forgo
I’m dressed to the nines and nowhere to go
Aha, of course, there’s a chic fashion show
It’s a full house, the theme: “Haute Escato”
Awed by the finale I yell bravo!
Home watching YouTube, with chips and merlot
I used to want to be like her,
she seemed like what I longed to be;
Always so perfectly put together
then I realized she’s not like me;
As imperfectly perfect as I am
(and this lingered in my head for a while)
I don’t fit into that plastic diagram;
I’ll always be short with eccentric style;
You can’t go buy what I possess;
What I’m not? I relax and just deal;
I’ll never be make up and a cocktail dress,
I’m a chaotic mess that you simply feel;
I used to want to be like her,
she seemed like what I wanted to be;
Never real in stormy weather,
then I realized she’s not like me.
black spiked high heels
updo sparkly rhinestone comb
approving glances
in a party mood
flirty red cocktail dress
hard to look away
too much alcohol
unusually frisky
mistakes are now made
THE CAT, THE DOG, THE MOUSE AND THE RABBIT HUTC>/center>
When passing the pet shop window, I saw a wondrous sight.
The pets were having a party, far into the night.
The cat was smoking a home-made spliff she’d rolled between her paws;
The dog was sipping pink champagne and nibbling petit fours.
The pet mouse jived with the python, getting ever bolder;
Until she pulled a muscle, throwing him over her shoulder.
The doe, in a slinky cocktail dress and the buck in a silk tuxedo,
Slipped behind their rabbit hutch to exercise their libido.
The tortoises, though normally shy, had come right out of their shell
And took the floor in a slow waltz, which of course they did rather well.
They beckoned me to join them and we danced at a furious pace.
And then I awoke with a tickly nose; my cat was licking my face.
30th March 2020
Cheerful Rhyme Competition
Sponsor - Line Gautier
season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
citrus squeezed, lemon and lime ~
love’s carrot-top drizzle.
the umbrella man primed to coalesce,
his yellow crop of hair blends
with watercolor scent.
grinning in the rain, she wears cocktail dress ~
tummy band stretches nine months
as he pays for her drinks.
cockle shells and wedding bells nonetheless.
a beached whale rests on the sand ~
bouquet’s ready to pop.
1/29/2020
Famous poetic lines that inspire Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” By John Keats
Mark Miller 09/11/2017
"She'll be the one sitting in the middle of the love sofa at the center of all the finest restaurants in town, transporting every small town of tranquil into a raised city of lights and atmosphere, where inanimate dance in daunting color and essence And then you feel a thin slice of a seductive air like presence pass through you as a reminder, a portal that only now can you exist. She sit's over there between the far and the mist but is felt within. This woman it seems is of the many drawn dreams of supernatural beauty unbounded by mystery and vitality. Her pose unforced, her style refined and her nature only whispered. As she traverses the room in her Alexis Tracie Lace Cocktail dress with V shaped ruffles which frame the hidden back zip leaving the dead only without a trance like wish to be within her heart shaped vision. "
Last Night
Last night I met the devil
and I really must confess.
The devil looks a lot like you,
he wears a cocktail dress.
His laugh was like a symphony
he looked me in the eyes.
He said the things you used to say
like I just can't tell lies.
He smiled like an angel
every hair was in its place.
For a moment in the soft moonlight
I swear I saw your face.
He told about great things he's done,
he wanted me to see.
Past the things that people say
to who he claimed to be.
He laughed at all the jokes I told
and asked me to tell more.
Something told me deep inside
he heard them all before.
Pretending to be someone else
I finally saw right through.
Last night I met the devil
as he pretended to be you.
Edwin C Hofert
At the beach in your bikini
blowing off those also-rans
you posture in your playful way
with Gucci sunshades and
the latest Grisham novel.
At the gala you're exquisite
in your slinky cocktail dress.
Simple, black, short and sexy,
you shimmer like a morning mist,
the chandeliers are dancing in your eyes.
At the condo in your nightgown,
(the antithesis of sex),
tucking in the kids
and softly singing them to sleep,
you're Wonder Woman in your plastic curlers.
I know I have the best,
without a doubt, it's true,
whatever outfit you put on,
my 'winner' still is you!
At the beach in your bikini
blowing off those also-rans
you posture in your playful way
with Gucci sunshades and
the latest Grisham novel.
At the gala you're exquisite
in your slinky cocktail dress.
Simple, black, short and sexy,
you shimmer like a morning mist,
the chandeliers are dancing in your eyes.
At the condo in your nightgown,
(the antithesis of sex),
tucking in the kids
and softly singing them to sleep,
you're Wonder Woman in your plastic curlers.
I know I have the best,
without a doubt, it's true,
whatever outfit you put on,
my 'winner' still is you!
...dedicated to Juvie
We are in each other's arms, and dancing...
the lights are low, and the music is soft.
You perfume is so delicate, like a fresh
spring rain. We are cheek to cheek,
and in another world. A man tries to
butt in, and I shoo him away... no way
is anyone taking my girl away from me.
We take our seats, as I pull your chair
out for you. You say you have to go to
the ladies' room to freshen up, but you
look fine to me... a princess with her prince.
We dance some more, and I steal a kiss.
In your black cocktail dress you are by far
the loveliest woman there. The chandeliers
are twinkling in your eyes. "I love you so,"
I gently whisper. "Hold me close!"
We leave early... I open the car door for
you, and make sure you are comfortable.
When we arrive home we rush into the
bedroom. You slip off your dress, and I
get out of my tuxedo. "Scrabble?" you ask.
'Scrabble it is!" I reply. In jeans and
sweatshirts we sit on the living room floor.
You beat me hands down! I ask you if you
want to play again and, sleepily, you say no.
"Let's go to bed and cuddle!" you suggest...
and so we do. The perfect end to a perfect evening.
At the beach in your bikini
blowing off those also-rans
you posture in your playful way
with Gucci shades,
the latest Grisham novel.
At the gala you're exquisite
in your tiny cocktail dress.
Simple, black, short and sexy,
you shimmer like a morning mist,
the chandeliers are dancing in your eyes.
Home in your flannel night dress,
(the antithesis of sex),
tucking in the kids
and softly singing them to sleep,
you're Wonder Woman,
let me make you dinner!
I want to scream:
"The competition's done,
we have a winner!"
At the beach in your bikini
blowing off those also-rans
you posture in your playful way
with Gucci sunshades and
the latest Grisham novel.
At the gala you're exquisite
in your slinky cocktail dress.
Simple, black, short and sexy,
you shimmer like a morning mist,
the chandeliers are dancing in your eyes.
At the condo in your nightgown,
(the antithesis of sex),
tucking in the kids
and softly singing them to sleep,
you're Wonder Woman in your plastic curlers.
I want to scream:
"The competition's over,
we have a winner!"
They say that times a great healer
but absence makes the heart grow stronger
emotions caught up within melodies
memories triggered by emotions.
I'll take you to my place one day
where life feels warm like cotton wool
and like me you can learn to pray
to stop the demons lighting their fuel.
A photograph can hold a thousand stories
of past, present and future souls
but are we blinkered by the obvious reasonings
you should never judge a book by its cover.
A tale of happiness
a tale of hate
we could put it all down to fate
but be careful not to get caught in a mess
don't spill the wine on your cocktail dress.
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