a thought strikes a match
nothing much, a little flame
moths alter their course
someone whispers, what if this—
the curtain catches the light
a balloon inflates
sky requires another sun
string loosens, goes slack
already counting the stars
on the backs of envelopes
morning finds the chairs
still facing yesterday's stage
confetti in shoes
someone refolds promises
along familiar creases
after all, a spade
fits superbly well in hand
soil under the nails
the gate can't bend or unhinge
rain dons handle with slippers
no trumpets today
the kettle attends to rain
a chipped cup, still warm
someone has darned the elbow
of the coat we nearly threw
I find the world doth pass me by
Shall I give it one last try
The young don’t share my point of view
They’re not upset by unverified news
You cannot talk to them, only text
They’re so feeble they're undersexed
Why, when I was their age ---
Oy, there goes my darned ribcage…
Father Time sneaks up on the best of men
So to all ‘goodnight’ ~ ‘til I’m born again
"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet"*
The moment I met you, my life would be complete.
That is why, my undying love, I would proclaim,
but I'm sorry, I missed your name.
You are everything I've ever wanted and more.
I've never met anyone like you before,
and I'd like to ask you if you feel the same,
but I'm sorry, I missed your name.
Perhaps my memory is just a little weak.
I might only need to jog it before we speak.
Then, I wouldn't appear to be so darned lame.
Unfortunately, I missed your name.
When I hear somebody lay on me their handle,
like some odd name I've heard someplace, Brave Candle,
I forget instantly. I admit I'm to blame,
and that is why I missed your name.
So, I sadly say, though you might think it trite,
we must pass like two ships in the night.
'Tis a romantic tragedy and a shame,
all because I missed your name.
* It may not fit well, but I wanted to quote Shakespeare.
I’m happy that today might be
A day that’s mostly worry-free,
Where not a soul depends on me
To do a gosh-darned thing.
I’ll read and solve the puzzle page
Or watch a movie or engage
In conversations to assuage
The stress to which I cling.
There’s no place that I have to go,
So all my actions can be slow
And I can stay indoors and know
The peace such days can bring.
Some say zed and some say zee
Some say yes and some says oui
Some say moi and some say me
But the whole darned world says huh
Some say poo and some say poop
Some say broth and some say soup
Some say gravy some say jus
But the whole darned world says huh
Some say film and some say movie
Some say fab and some say groovy
Some say dance and some say boogie
But the whole darned world says huh
Some say dollar, some say buck
Some say lorry, some say truck
Some say loser, some say schmuck
But the whole darned world says huh
Some say cram and some say swat
Some say sexy, some say hot
Some say eh? and some say what?
But the whole darned world says huh
Mr McClean built a large rooster machine.
Some comments he heard were pretty darned mean.
His wife was tired of hearing “that weirdo McClean”
He did not care, he could readily be seen
Cruising the avenue alongside a bike-riding teen
Showing them up with his speedy rooster machine.
As
the sun
gently slid
down western hills,
a large mass of clouds
some grey, some white, some pink
lay spread across the blue sky.
The lazy wind darned their edges,
with its wanton hands to a cluster.
Golden twilight spread across the earth.
Crickets were singing in chorus.
Fireflies flashed their tiny lights.
Stars arrayed in night sky.
Moon showed her fair face.
Sky was teal blue.
Earth fell still.
Darkness,
loomed.
Written: December 09, 2023
______________________________________
Honeyed gold pearled shades
brown ferns and aspens
into shadowed paths
lit embers and oaks
As darkness draws near,
with bowed tears of stark
runic streaks of light
dapple my sky
showing only maze
of black enigmas
crimson, lucid blaze.
leading to plum sky.
Swift shades drape my thirst
like dim-lit daydreams
that persist through time
niggling at my nerves
in sparkling strings of
stern frame blush skyline!
whilst glum chorus swells
in ghostly darkness.
Gloom morphs darned mayhem
veiled cinereal shroud
as she touches me
gazing with sleek sight
hushed tones, wan relics
of laid skyline bleeds
lost in shades of rouge
Onyx oboe chords.
The blaze has withered
oblivion crave.
HALLOWEEN
The Celtic festival called Samhain in ancient years
Noted Summer’s light to Winter’s dark, with tears
From JackO’Lantern hollowed pumpkins with a flame
To preserve harvested food and until the Spring came
When the living mingled with the Spirits of the dead
As Pagan events to be absorbed as Pope Gregory said
At least from 800 AD it was a Catholic Church event
But a thousand years later and with a modern bent
Trick n Treat with scary costumes and a candy fee
It placated the evil spirits with simple gifts, you see
So as a spirit, here I stand alone at your front door
You may guess what my evil toothy grin may be for
It isn’t coin that I need from you on this dark night
But a way into your soul to cause permanent fright
If you should ever think to refuse my one demand
Then across your eyelids will my name be darned
Daffodill sheer trumpets
Dearest friendships you gift
Doused miles of sweet scent
Dozens charm in bouquets
Darned bright in raven hair
Deck gardens in yellow
Delicate fresh flower
He stood on the corner
Every day save Sunday
The corner of 14th and Main
Not one darned thing could
Deter him--not even the rain
He spoke to the masses
To whomever would come
His knowledge was awesome
Nearly Godlike to some
But he preached not of Jesus
Nor Mohammed and such
Whatever his subject
His voice was too much
Folks plugged up their ears
And remained for his zeal
They were mesmerized daily
He possessed mass appeal
So they dubbed him old 'yeller'
No other name would do
His voice was like thunder
Too loud, it was true
But they came to that corner
Each day, rain or shine
And they could hear old 'yeller'
From the back of the line
Jill Biden decides, 'I'll open my purse'
Says gently, 'Honey, your mind's getting worse'
Joe said, 'Wutcha mean?'
'My brain is still keen
It's my loose lips that are such a darned curse!'
Not pied but a piper of a different sort,
Partakers tend to frequent cuff and court.
He seldom leads prefers to follow,
Decorates flesh while insides hollow.
And slowly lets his ways go shady,
And lowers bar on choice of lady.
Will blame the Mayor and Council Board,
As if actions be not of his own accord.
Why all’d be in his favor if only not
For that darned raw deal that he got!
Plus ‘cause of him and also her
For was them that made it all occur.
“The unfairness! Those in cahoots!”
Falling on deaf ears; points are moot.
Child throws tantrums, teens rebel,
Twenties, thirties, gone to Hell.
Not of Hamelin or setting exotic,
Just the state of confusion, the city
psychotic.
At the 150th International Golfers’ Annual Ball,
Headliner was a duffer named Donald Trump
An exceptionally boring time was had by all
As Trump insisted on reviewing his Par 3 slump.
Seems they had very little in common, in fact,
While Trump’s ball lay languishing in the rough
No one had anything good to offer, not even tact
Only Donald, it appears, had it so darned tough.
Turns out the 150th was the last annual ball
No one cared a repeat of the whining and such,
Having suffered through hours of the folderol
Especially when dinner turned out to be dutch!
Seems no one had the money they pretended
And half of the appeal was getting a free meal,
Not to mention no true golf “greats” attended
Seems the Arab league had seized their appeal.
Written November 26, 2022
Froggy is croaking
Somewhere where it’s boggy
He’s steering them clearly
A lighthouse, that froggy
Yearlings are frisky
Delightful, these dear things
But dawn is right risky
So fly, flee, you yearlings!
Morning is breaking
It’s sounding a warning
An astounding sunrise
A marvelous morning
Dillo is rooting
She’s billowed the pillow
Oh man, that’s the missus
Sounds darned like a 'dillo
Toady's exploding
A regular roadie
No stopping his hopping
He's touring, this toady
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Irish quatrains with 5x/6a/6x/6a, 2-syllable end rhymes, alliteration, internal and/or cross rhymes, and same start/end word. Seems like they sort of work for children's rhymes...
https://www.writersdigest.com/poetic-asides/breccbairdne-poetic-forms
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