The potato, to the egg, he cooed,
"You are by far my favorite food",
and he continued as he said,
"Might you and I soon be wed?"
The egg, to the potato, spoke,
"My, but you're a handsome bloke.
Our shapes are very much the same,
and I, with love, will take your name."
To seal the deal, they sweetly kissed,
and drew up an invitation list
(so their best friends would not be missed).
Little envelopes were addressed to these:
peppers, mushrooms, onions, cheese.
A happier occasion was never known,
how beautiful was egg in her silken gown,
the proud potato fried golden brown,
a party well-remembered, though
it was washed down with my morning joe.
The heavens opened and poured thunderously,
Sending all beasts deep into hiding.
Birds cooed softly from their nests,
As trees swayed to the wind’s wild song.
As the rain softened to gentle drops,
He clasped her hand, steady and warm.
Gazing sheepishly at her angelic face,
He led her across the emerald plains.
His heart hammered, trying to break free,
As doubt tightened its grip around his throat.
Fear snatched the vows he longed to voice,
So he let the wind whisper for him.
Summoning courage, he parted his lips,
But the words betrayed him once more.
"I do," she whispered with a knowing smile—
She had already read his heart.
A poetry form called Yalto____
buds pop 'pon
star magnolia
early
bloomer, ready
to show first white blooms.
a dove cooed
early
in the morn
confused
by weather
that's spring-like
and seems here, my friend.
well, winter hasn't left
no!
ten weeks of cold still
By the way a rock pigeon cooed
Deliberately out of sight
And moved me to rise from bed
With my own jingle in heart
And July's breath stills the pond
In its disarming manner
And robs the chimes of their song
And warms the oleander
And the way a cottontail
Sits and stirs among the grass
And a quail stands atop the wall
And doesn't mind my presence
And the storm clouds had splintered
To let a golden haze form dawn -
I can tell that something good
And blessed is about to happen.
I have been deceived all this while,
By all the angels cloaked in a dear disguise.
'Follow the way of light, my child, ' they all cooed,
For they knew too well I was never shrewd.
Off I went, probing for those lights,
Something to put an end to my wakeful nights.
But manipulation, oh my dear,
Sounds sweeter when it is feared.
I never found those lights, I never did indeed,
In the cruel footpaths of naivety and those angels' deeds.
All I ever found was a world so shadowy,
Lit up with lights that glow darkly.
When rebellious thoughts screamed
Before the noise of life filled the quiet,
I now recall half-filled moments
Upon edge of spite
and an angry wind:
Unmoved by parental debates
This heart denied
pleas of atonement;
At eighteen, pride ruled
to cross over the night...
and walking out with a backpack,
Feisty senses burst
for sweet freedom's trail.
Feeling how ego scraped my life
As dove cooed of home's lullabye
My heels rushed back
with fresh reflection ,
Gentle air of surrender lingering within
A mistake transformed
into youth's blessing--
That through some willing desire
I began to wrap my hands...forgive;
Releasing the power of humility.
and I smile tonight, this arrogance a gift
Which tides me through...
most challenges of adulting.
In an old bus, patience thinned by
midnight
As bitterness drifted long, feeling bleak
Wiping hours with restless air in
dark light
Not a robin cooed through skyline's
mystique
Finding unrest from a breeze in dull
shade
Where time slept with eyes open, a pale
flow,
A peasant beside me smiled like
glittered jade
Changing my face with some kind of
halo.
His ruffled hair touched my skin.
without words
And I felt silence soothing my
complaint;
Reaching out to offer him bread I
stored;
He said, "life's a pit if that's how it's named."
That moment pierced my gall, a quitter I
was--
Buoyed; epiphany changed my
senseless flaws.
Little Mary had a cute bunny pet,
she played with, till another one she met.
When autumn’s crunchy breeze started to blow,
a pigeon made home in her window low.
Soon it became a dear friend of Mary,
cooed at morn to wake her up gently.
She fed the bird along with her bunny,
and through the fall she had great time funny.
When the winter came the bird flew away,
left for her a feather on the walkway.
From the window sad bunny looked out miffed,
as she crouched to pick it up as a gift.
#3
From my window, a dove
Searched for love. Where did she hide,
Dawn crept silently:
I listened to my labyrinth of love.
Purple petals fluttered on the dewy grass,
A silken web was shown through the light of dawn.
My dove cooed from the tree
Alas, my love had gone.
heart winked at love
the peace dove cooed
above, within
Wife was feeling neglected and bored.
Hubby hugged her. Her low spirits soared.
She cooed, “Let’s go to bed.”
When he said, “Well, instead,
would you bring me some food?” she was floored.
Soon she came back buck-naked and bold
with a meal. Such a sight to behold!
Hubby said, “Lunch can wait.”
When he went for the bait,
She said, “Not now~~your food would get cold.”
A widower once had a spring visitor, a dove with no mate. It roosted in a tree near where the old man often sat. It cooed to him.
One day the man's daughter looked for him, he was gone. She was startled by the sudden flight of two doves.
The old man was never found.
A
Crow cawed
Then a dove
Cooed early while
Still dark from cloudy
Skies on this late winter's
Morn, the only gold was the
Daffodils' blossoms flashing smiles
To the star magnolia's delicate
Star shaped blooms seeking a friend before spring
My vices and my faults are legion
how I hate that cooing pigeon
pooping right outside my door
i cannot sleep for death entices
promises to end my vices
silencing my painful snore
and yet in vain I blindly struggle
beneath black blankets darkly snuggle
deny my essence to the core
within life's book the battle rages
against the truth of yellowed pages
scattered on the bedroom floor
she isn't here and never was
her memory a flaming buzz
is it the flame that I adore
scorched within and vilified
by endless nights wherein I've died
as pigeons cooed outside my door
the shadow of the swinging loop
the smell of two day old bird poop
it thus will end I'll bear no more
and yet I hesitate in fear
that she may somehow draw me near
engulf me in her flaming core
erase the pain of passion's past
share with me one last repast
a love, both lovers, so abhor
am I but fodder for her soul
consumed somehow yet still left whole
by a love we both deplore
John G. Lawless
©11/27/2023
I am baby
I have urges I need
I eat I have 25 months
When which I need to
Learn to speak
Where is SHE I need I need
To feed and learn to speak
To breathe to be a sign of
My family I need I need I need
Love who are they I have to
Cry for them to know I am
There kin their creed I need
Them to be to be to see me.
Who are they to me? Where is
He and SHE?! Who are you
My creed? I need I need I need
To FEED! Do they care I am
Here I am baby their love is
Here is their affair I am baby
I am here HERE HERE I am
I am BABY! I DEMAND! the
Treat I need I need and need!
To feed me I need to learn to
SPEAK! Comfort me my creed
Unless I WILL retreat comfort me
I need I need I need my kin my creed
I am baby I am squalling flailing
Bundled in this blue Heap I am
Baby I am HERE TO BE nurtured
Cradled comforted cooed to who
ARE YOU TO ME? I am baby!!!
I need I need and NEED here I am
Baby!
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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.