Dearie,
So happy you make me,
Yet the sadness ruins my knee.
We met by misery,
All in that nusery
I am livid in tears
But it opens my ears.
To be full, out the real
I try you to feel.
A space of no thought,
And no fraught.
A reality in my dream,
You bring to my realm.
Rejected and forlorn... I come to,
Dejected and torn. .. I leave too!.
My angel keep playing,
With hide and seek, you are slaying.
Dearie,
My thoughts are eerie.
But you make me sane in insanity,
I feel druggily yet so happily.
As I go over the counter to survive,
You counter there in deride.
I find you in a home,
Of all places to clone.
Ha!..ha.. Ha..my love,
Must we play in this grave?
Sweetie.. we go a long way,
Can you spare me a few?
My devil...I..,
What a spur!... I...
Can't leave be,
Yet won't let me.
Rig rag
Shaggy rag
Rip, rip, rip,
Wrinkle in the water
A wilder whisper
Crepuscular crème brûlée.
What is madness really?
Have I not a wordly thought?
Wordly jumble,
Words, words, words,
Coherent as a Dostoevsky mumble.
Musing wrists and elbows in a swaddle,
Up of green and purple trumpets,
Sickly technicolour cuddle.
Circadian bunny pudding.
Hullo, there it is again!
I saw it there, just there!
Did not. But so I did!
I’m not mad, I saw it there.
A rig rag shaggy rag?
No, not that.
You did not see it — no.
It’s gone now — half a moment.
Is it there? The level jelly?
Come with us, dearie.
Cuddle cuddle,
Jelly swaddle.
Sleep a day or nine.
Till it wears off, the custard killer.
Mr. Mustard comes tonight.
Flying high or very low.? Airplane hire lU K.' Who would
Know? Fantastic fighter jets..On H P..' Could they be
Repossesd if there is welfare turbulence.? Oh dearie
Dearie; dearie,
me.'
My only dearie!
In you, I live my world so sweet.
Even the mirrors can't hide your beauty,
In my heart your love grows like planted seeds.
Happiness is what is seen in your mirror.
Even if your love keeps making my eyes shy,
I can never again decline.
Your love will just be my sole attraction.
To your heart I plead, be in my kingdom,
My heart has a space for your reign.
Each of the ten lines was from my following ten poems, with lines where each of them was originally written in brackets:
Line 1: 'Your vase filled my vase with love' (Line 52)
Line 2: 'Even a bit of you attracts' (Line 13)
Line 3: 'Allow wines to jailbreak' (Line 7)
Line 4: 'I am thankful for your care' (Line 8)
Line 5: 'Beauty perches on your face' (Line 11)
Line 6: 'Only your love I chose' (Line 10)
Line 7: 'I can never again decline' (Line 13)
Line 8: 'My kiss whispers love on your lips' (line7)
Line 9: 'The voice of love (Line 6)
Line 10: 'Even a bit of you attracts' (Line 19)
Darl! Let's go to Manhattan beach,
There we can catch some fish,
Then you'll cook a nice dish,
That we'll eat under the Beech.
This time, if Jennifer goes,
She'll want to eat a lot of Mangoes,
Then we'll send some by cargoes,
Like we did when we were on hol's in Fargo.
Oh! That reminds me, dearie!
Can you help me cut down this Cherry?
Don't think I am going nuts;
'Cos I earlier made you climb that Walnut.
Just like on Long Island, If not for Jennifer;
I would've broken my spine,
When you wanted me to cut down a Connifer,
But I still got injured by a falling Pine.
Long Islands! That's where we saw many Rowans,
In a forest planted by the Romans,
I thought I'd find some of their treasures,
It would've made our memories more to measure.
Those are not Rowans, they are Hawthorns!
Hawthorn? That tree I climbed was without thorns,
Anyway, there's a lot of fun playing with trees,
There's no such adventure that nature gives more free.
tiger cat was scary the first little bit
stopped Marta in her tracks as she saw fit
Come closer dearie, said the large tiger cat
Let me down some light kibbles as we have a chat
When she saw his humor and story-telling skills
she got over her fear of possibly becoming one of his kills
Ravishing Romeo, you rule my heart
Softly have you ravaged my senses
I'm yours to control, completely yours
Darling, you are dashing and smashing
My beloved better half, I'm besotted with you
You're my treasure, my prince, my pleasure
Mon amour, I love you, my magical mister
You're the answer to my persistent prayers
God's gift, you lift my soul and make me whole
Mystery man, you're the missing piece,
the succulent slice of my life puzzle
My tender tease, my tantalizing tormentor,
I adore you, admire you, this I admit
My missing rib owner, you own me and owe me love
You are rampaging me, changing me for the better
My heaven-sent helpmeet, how you hold me in your heart!
I'm your siren, singing a sentimental serenade for you
You've ravished me, lavished me with your flaming fervour
My large-hearted lover, you light up my life with your love
My daring dearie, let us dance in our dreams with dandelions
Let us paint panoramic pictures of pure passion
Together, let's chart new chapters of chromatic chemistry
Come, let's create a cherubic symphony,
a happy harmony in sync with each other.
Papa, dearie! The kitchen is howling with a strange type!
I am staying here since last two days! Could never understand!
Exactly how so? Can we please! If we may?
They do ! Faith in blue ! Litmus turn red, within a minor queue!
And yet again, once more!
C A! O C L! C L!
Anything else dear!
No, nothing!
Norms Perhaps!
He came to me in a rhythm, an ordinary Black American woman, age 33
spilling gentile and Pinesol, and debris of his knee\
A couple of diamonds and pearls, said the dream, "Is the dreaming Awakening me, dearie?"
He showed me his face, his Rabbit hair, like a knight in the king's corner of a sultry, satin fair/
a couple of downy llamas and a few more Pinesol, please
I was in Alice in Wonderland's Labyrinth with a bunny-RABBIT, ahem. Please//
His name was Bugs Bunny, that rascally rabbit. He suited up and wore his gauntlet grid and familiarized himself with his Virginian, er, um, Virginity?
He called himself Shuyin, from Final Fantasy X-2, and the added prequel came from me, the Author and the Narrator of the Story.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote, and I quote:
"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways."
And then she proceeded to list as many as she could in fourteen lines,
Telling her husband, Robert, and us, in the process,
Just how deeply and fervently she loved him.
But I would pose this query to Mrs. B., "Liz, dearie,
Does being able to list all the reasons you love a person
Enable you to love that person more, or better, or differently?"
In my view, I see no need for yard-long lists of words
Declaring love steadfast and true.
No need for lists, or sonnets, even,
When just three simple words will do.
No more a cheerful giver
Than this, bird-voicing.
Who lights up the prettier
Fruiting for fruit tree.
Which sound, uninhibited
Look, of sheeny gloss
Intensifies, when upsped
With basket, dearie .
Happy Mothers Day Shirlene
Written: by Miracle Man
5/8/2023
Who Is Shirlene our friends often query,
a woman we’ve adopted, who feels like kin.
Also a woman who’s always been our dearie,
never seen as pretentious, she needs no spin.
She entered our lives many years ago,
and since that time has captured our hearts.
She is special and we want her to know,
when it comes to friends she tops the charts.
Was she a perfect mother? Probably no,
but from what we saw, she always did her best.
She loved her children and let it show,
most days ended finding her stressed.
We pray this day you’ve no sad musings,
enjoy your day with the love of your journey.
Remember your wins and not your losings,
and squeeze in a prayer for old T. & Ernie.
We Love Our unofficially adopted Daughter.
Your arm is Soft like sponge pillow,
Heavy is the head that rests on;
Soft but strong, made me embrace loner.
Serene voice is all you got, deary!
Your oxygen the fairy has breathe,gem!
This being none have seen; pretty shorty.
How I wish this was not...pseudo.
Oh what is that art read aloud?
From your world, beauty is art;
In your arms, fame sheds light,
Walking in all, narrowly, you spate; ah my fate,
In distress,writing is the right thing.
To show how endlessly you run in thy vain,
Bleeding all thoughts through the drop of ink;
A free man is imprisoned with you,
A blind or deaf, all dwell in your palace;
In you, love is blind, dearie!
Neutrally, others you embrace naturally,
When thirst, you quench; in English and or french,
The pinch at seize of words to make your touch soft,
Like hissing of the snake the brain finds peace,
Doing you is inspiring; a master piece.
Desires to make all touches leave a scar of evolution
Teen's age you surfaced with beauties along
To many you are red; for century, words have bled.
Oh poetry my beloved!
It is just a simple hole in the wall wand shoppe, the older lady said.
We smelled the magic in there, and I felt a tiny thump on my head.
It’s a cat, and it looks vicious whispered my cousin, Old Ripe Red.
Too busy to care, I asked if I could sample a bit of fresh pumpkin bread.
Oh, sure, the older lady said. She was not wearing a cape or hat.
Is she a witch? Hissed my scaredy cat cousin, Little Timmy Pat.
Who cares? I asked. I plunked myself down in a closet beside a bat.
The bat flew past me and chased off the happy hat-sitting cat.
Would you like a job, Dearie? The old lady asked, looking at me.
I said, “Would it include pumpkin bread and hot lemon tea?”
She nodded her head, and I asked how much magic there would be.
That would depend on your gifts, so I said, “You just hired me!”
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