Of course she's black with eyes of green
disposition keen and cleverly mean
If she cross your path bad luck for sure
a witches curse haunting will occur
She rides the broom stick with glee
she is the witches flying company
The night moon full and cat on prowl
bewitch the souls with her meow
She lurks about and spies
the roaming cat the witches eyes
She sees whatever her cat does see
Witches ways mortals fear and believe
The witches cat hunts for souls elapse
wandering earth before their time lapse
Zombie beings to serve her Master Witch
black cat green devil eyes bewitch and fetch
The witches cat laps her bowl of cream
she stretches and curls by the fire gleam
A night well done as she purrs to sleep
the old witch smiles for her cat she keeps.
sunlit hues are kaleidoscopic kisses
terrestrial impressions
testing the waterfall’s eminence,
of impetus, of its continuous flow
unbroken by striving survival,
unfiltered obstruction
flowing along its perilous path
thoughts, feelings, & reactions
meandering, sipping Adam’s ale
moods unbridle as they manifest,
ellipses elapse, evaporate
lapping reckoning runestones,
monuments reciting otherworldly
phonetic pebbles babble
of antediluvian intuition
these stones summer bleached
warn satin smooth
at half-light, titanium white glows,
there, as dusky jewels
natural caressed water wooshes
v e
r i
s i
m i
l a r
rustling the leaves—insomniacs,
lift the cyclical immersive mind
rushing, whittling a way
recanting,
chanting murmurs that calm my soul
Its arranged mr Trump..You are to win a second term.' The plebs recall your earlier
Presidency 'and less war.) Now you still need an edge.' An attempt will be made on
Your life.' But do not fear you will be ok.'
And you will gain the white house..
Thank you for your time today mr trump
See you in the white house.'
Brr brrr Hello..Yes inner sanctum secretary yes come to the main desk and
Request the golden envelope.' To access
Our location, five minutes elapse; Ring ring..Intercom request
Sir the agent is here.' Let him in a well dressed yet nondescript man comes in
Two imposing guards flanking the short
Hall waved him he approches a massive walnut desk , its all there said the secretary 2 million in large denomination bills, thank you sir.' You have a team still ready asked the secretary.? Yes ready to go..As expected
The target 'who i will not name' now has
Been informed an attempt will be made
Yet he will be ok..So i want your sniper
To touch his ear only.' This will ensure genuine shock.' And allay public doubt.'
I shall await your competent result.'
Goid day and good luck.'
How many stories need retelling
for this object to achieve sentimental value?
Does importance have an expiration date
that’s reached when no one‘s left to gather in celebration?
How many years must elapse
before this object becomes a family heirloom?
Does perpetuating an affiliation to the past
become burdensome to those living in the present?
How many memories are required
to turn this mundane object into a cherished keepsake?
Does nostalgia become obsolete
after multiple generations are gone?
Is my legacy inevitably doomed
to suffer the same fate as this object?
In my kitchen, an old-fashioned timer
Keeps track of my coffee pot’s perk.
I wind it and eight minutes later,
The pot has completed its work.
The timer is shaped like a chicken;
It ticks as the minutes elapse,
Then rings to announce its completion,
Technology prior to apps.
Yet this morning, my chicken stopped tickin’;
Its mechanics have chirped its last cluck,
So I kept a close watch on my coffee -
Guess Alexa would never get stuck!
Chicken Little
Much like a messenger to mind,
Posed staring down into my face,
I sensed a rooster, brash and bold,
Was challenging my right to breathe.
Thus, in the inkling of an eye
With onset latent bleariness,
The old conundrum, fight or flight,
Was freshly flashing in my head.
This rooster was no idle threat.
Its size, imposing, filled my sky.
Its comb was cocked with attitude.
Its beak was aimed between my eyes.
Its eyes were beady like black peas.
They pierced my confidence and will.
Its countenance was firmly grim.
Its posture signaled, “Make my day!”
Then, in a moment’s timed elapse,
My brain awoke in roused synapse.
Fear not, it’s just macropsia.
The sky’s not falling after all.
Good Intentions
Written: by Miracle Man
1/25/2025
Procrastination often swaps a sure thing for perhaps,
our opportunity can disappear during times elapse.
On the back burner is where opportunity takes rest,
placed there by daydreamer’s not doing their best.
Armed with good intentions, to do at some later time,
but find good intentions weren’t worth a thin dime.
If I should get punctured, laying leaking Crimson Tide,
call me Deacon Blues as I slowly start to die.
If they miss me, take it easy.
All is as it should be.
It's best to cut losses, cut ties, change your name, skip town, and grow a beard.. Like To-day, act now before patience sells out in turn I act out of character, and when I leave this is all that you'll talk about.
Our natural satellite departs slow.
Binds of the parasitic plant; first love ties.
The pulse on your neck is chattering, It's slurring its words.
Downtrodden, ragged, in rags soaking drenched and sitting comfortable in combustible liquid stenches.
Oblivious even in the question, oddly aggressively asking,
a straggly demand, expectant to be handed the light to smoke himself a real 'Death Sentence' cigarette.
The late moon is stunning, floating, acting like you're here and really you're staying, we all know that you're leaving.
What are we even thinking?
The only finger on the pulse plays to the beat of a night that reminds me of older days.
Guarded adversaries; imagine that.
The Heart Elapse.
Collapse.
Old and Grey or Rob the cradle to the grave.
Lost in the lexicon of subtlegafe
dumbconfonded at the the break of day
Watching the smiles from the well wishers
a mass of contradiction ensures
A vexation for the night
brief excursions to be stet
stretching time higher than the cornflowers
back bent the best he could do
Like a painting.
Almost the same thing,
Except not so flat.
And more than that-
Blooming effortlessly.
As if by destiny.
But its true fate,
Is for its beauty to abate.
That is what happens to an eclipse.
After a moment, time will elapse.
Colors that move on.
Feels like waking up at dawn.
This afternoon,
Is not full of doom.
Just a moment of shade.
Harkening a halo of jade.
Thank you sun, thank you moon.
We hope to see another show soon!
Denied again, again, again
My God, my king, my hope, my friend
To think that I could ever mend
My shame, my pride, my lies.
To deadly hills they take Him now
A crown of thorns upon His brow
The King of Kings, but no one bows
I’m absent when he dies.
In bitter tears they said I waited
True—if sorely understated
So my soul falls desecrated
Curse my horrid deeds
Hours pass and days elapse
Spirit gone, my lungs collapse
I’ve fallen victim to the traps
In thinking of my needs
Then I am called, I follow John
I look and find the stone is gone
And only linen lingers on
To dare the war is won?
I see Him. I am awed. Elated
Doubt undone, eradicated
But, in shame, I wait for hatred
From God’s only Son
With all the courage I possess
I turn my eyes, on Him they rest
My heart is kicking at my chest
I know I’ve failed the trials.
Tension mounts, and there’s a pause
I’ve broken all His love, His laws
So He should not forgive my flaws
He looks at me and smiles.
“I long for days of simple times”,
in distant quicksand you collapse.
You make no deep footprints to last,
fade before fervent times elapse.
You don’t come back home at sunset,
I long for days of simple times.
You freeze in my cold lonely night,
“I’ll remember happier times”.
You don’t come out to my meadow,
in woods you’re the shadow of trees.
I long for days of simple times,
“I’m only one for you there is”.
The sky falls on your lone pathway,
your song has stopped to charm with rhymes.
“There’s a place in my heart for you”,
I long for days of simple times.
Written: September 4th, 2023
Fall Splendor Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
______________________________________________________________
August walks out, ushering in a chilly decay.
Buds on the shrubs started turning shades.
Winds mock foliage as they swing and sway.
Anyone who finds will feel ecstatic by serenades.
Aestivating under a full moon, an inner tune swells.
Fragrant leaves litter the aurous floor where one dwells.
Night-flying fireflies escape being caught.
Feel the splendor of nature without a squat.
A breeze from the scarlet trees cools the night.
Before winter frost, the chill brings delight.
Crisp air, a yellow, crimson, and violet maze.
Jade autumn foliage whispered winter glaze.
Summer, now fading, begins to elapse.
A telltale indicator of fall mishaps and haps.
Dance to unheard carols; they flutter.
Hypnotic motions beguile a splendid stutter.
I knew of a man who journeyed himself a threefold
Before he could face decease.
First, his coming into the world
It was I could say a thrill to all
Albeit the months' trials
He huffed and puffed
Wishing the new environment to be favourable ;
But it felt horrendous
However, he was courageous to endure the child's stage
This: marked the first-ended but starting point of his journey.
Thereafter he embarked on and embraced his secular travel
With the hanker of being an elite
And surely he became,
Achieving his bona fide Masters
With a monthly emolument in his name.
This: paved the path to his final journey.
That was the retired stage
Yes, he journeyed the journey of the old
And found no nicety of this age
Then, on spec, the jealous fate turned him to elapse
Craving the dude's journey to a halt.
We turned the corner to an old town road
while heading for a chosen place to eat.
Before us was a home, a small abode-
all set for Christmas- seeming obsolete.
You see- it was July! We thought perhaps
the ornaments were never put away.
Could be the owners let the time elapse;
kept all in place for their next Christmas Day.
We found the restaurant, entered, and sat
across from a fine family- complete
with a small boy, wearing a Santa hat;
his sister, in a Christmas dress- so sweet.
The waitress saw us stare- said with a sigh:
"Their dad will be deployed in just two days.
So they are doing Christmas in July-
before he leaves to join the wartime maze."
July 13, 2022
Contest: Your Favourite Rhyming Poem
From The Second Half Of 2022
Sponsor: Julia Ward
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