Way down deep in the cushiness of the Germany forest
There is a mystical dwelling built by U.M. Borest.
Some of the oldest oaks are fully aware that it is there.
Designed by a worrisome sorcerer with super coarse hair.
Borest is a Bumpfraut, who can disappear at will.
He can invisibalize his home, changing it to pickle dill.
You might sense a mushroom house lurking in soft moss
It is not visible to everyone, especially not to those who are cross.
I can tell you nothing else because forest secrets are deep
If you hear loud snoring though U.M. Borest is asleep.
It’s best to tiptoe past the oak and use whispers near the trees.
If you are lucky you might catch a wisp of a brownie in the breeze.
Categories:
cushiness, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme
Prob not a winning vision
tail-end baby boom ain't same
cushiness likely to crash
before there's 'nuff cash
us born 'tween six and seven
are social security
burdens on generations
beyond and unlearned
n'er the less we plant veggies
remembering those wedgies
of innocence unsung youth
hope springs eternal.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nancy Jones
Categories:
cushiness, caregiving, devotion,
Form: Dodoitsu
you crawl up under someone's skin
'cause you like to swim in those
warm, soft, cozy spaces
where life pulses
arterial cushiness
eventually
tho
the heartbeat that wooed
gonna throb you to the capillaries
and osmosis you to some nasty happenin's
in the colon
kidneys
liver
gall bladder...
not to mention the hard places
like the marrow of the knuckles
where calcification is more likely
than not.
long way to the veins from there
(23 feet in the intestines alone)
takes some backbone
and a hit or two of kundalini
to navigate the trip
and return to the heart.
Categories:
cushiness, angst, life, love,
Form: Free verse