Poor Dan is in a droop... it wouldn't stand up.
Took a few colored photographs closeup.
Mad? Am I madam.
No, I'm Don Adam.
Holding up with Viagra, it erupts.
This time of the year
when the cannas sadly droop,
Ma is saving kitchen scraps
from recent repasts
for a hearty winter soup,
and decorations go up.
Too early I think
with the Christmas ornaments
for commercial purposes
slighting Halloween
and Thanksgiving gatherings.
I shall complain bitterly.
No one will listen!
Some say I am Mister Scrooge
I can stand only so much
happiness and joy,
cash registers dinging loud
facing the mad shopping crowds.
Each year it gets worse
when the cannas sadly droop,
and Ma saves scraps for the soup
decorating starts,
and I complain bitterly
but no one listens or cares.
Written September 12, 2022
Eyes a-droop
neck feels weak
Perhaps it’s time
to go to sleep
Why fight
Nature’s charms
‘Taps’ is not
a Call to Arms
tall pines droop, glisten
Sagging under silver snow.
Soft enchanting wood.
Weeping Willows droop,
swaying umbrella's umbra,
whispering trees stoop.
A Viagra was dropped in Ted’s beer
His impotence was Sue’s biggest fear
It sure did the biz
And gave him some whizz...
Sue’s expecting a baby next year!
(Of course medication and alcohol do not really mix)
5/21/18
climbing roses droop
gate bangs in the fall windstorm
For Sale sign
jonquil's blossoms droop
seen through tiny willow leaves...
cold cloudy morning
sunflowers droop
during gray stillness—
tornado
Ó November 28, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Don’t Droop Your Petals Down, My Rose
Don’t droop your petals down, my rose.
Don’t droop your petals low.
On the other side of the tombstone,
Is the golden sun, it glows.
Don’t droop your petals down, my rose,
Don’t cry those tears of grief.
Don’t miss him, he’s not really gone,
The one that is buried beneath.
Don’t droop your petals down, my rose,
And wipe those tears away.
God sees you crying, look up and smile.
Your night will break at day.
Don’t droop your petals down, my rose,
Don’t droop them, hold them high.
Grandpa is smiling at you through the breeze,
The breeze that is drying your eyes.
Don’t droop your petals down, my rose,
Don’t droop your petals low.
Grandpa’s here is spirit,
And he’s proud of you, I know.
Gesture in her sound,
Pleasure in her mind,
She awaked with the little hope,
she scrambled down when the day come
with the fear of stage.
Unexplored talent remain inside
just because of a small cage.
Eyes of them
made her to remain behind the doors.
But,
Soon someone was coming from these doors,
Brightness was there in her eyes
when,
she heard his little voice.
And her talent swerved towards the pages.
Yet another day ;
Persuade was there,
But
she had to limped again.
Her dreams were seized.
And,
tears was there in waiting eyes……
he looked those tears
and got the fame
the very next moment.
With the smile,
she felicitate her own boy.
Her desire was there in his voice,
Her pleasure was there in her pen.
But, self seeking
he forgotten his own mother.
And
Soon her desire left her alone
But pleasure was there till her last moment.
She never expressed her feeling
as the fear to loose all her worth.
In her story;
Last word swept away by the tears
Of those forbidden eyes……
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