He wo motto took a shield for the bettering of
Boy bubble kev
Upper right flange damage severe ordinance requirement of lifeline preserve cartography blissed out
Gregory Hines session energetic time card!
Bird with feathers of fire, phoenix metronome,
bursts on the edges of the atmosphere.
Crumbling to dust, ash and powdery bones,
fore a chance never truly appears.
A velleity is made at her shooting tomb,
deities will not honor this wish I fear.
Her diary, her historical tome,
inferno makes disappear.
She was never here.
Heart and spear
Arrow flange
Beak tip
Cupid
Supernova shot in the dark
Earth holds its breath
Lost a work of art
Flames it reigns
Pyre it rains
Sapphire jejune illustration lives onyx mockery
Dont cry, mama!
I feel the pain than you,
Stand to your knees, papa!
Ices are melting in my veins too
Hells are blazing in mine brain
Bloods running down my bandage
Mama, breast your crying baby again
Worry but less about this mange
You aren't at fault, papa!
I will care for my swollen wounds
Dry your teardrops, mama!
Things will turn all better rounds
Kindest heaven will soon rearrange
Everything to its correct flange
Someone is banging on God's door
I know this isn't what you long for
Though, this isn't the real CHANGE
But another real Chain of bondage.
I had the craziest time at the Squigglehawk ball
all the Frazzlefairies were bouncing off the wall,
Jellyfunts were swinging their enormous trunks
as they boogied away with pongalicious skunks
Young Squigglehawks gyrated in the balmy air
wearing pink tutus but their fannies were bare
Their antics created a humderendous kerfuffle
Pa panwongled them all with his wangabuffle!
When their Ma vamished some rainbow gowns
the youngsters claimed they looked like clowns
But they adored their lush spinklerly violet wings
and pogo-loged as if their legs were on springs
Ma Squigglehawk put on a spingle spangle spread
with chumley corn spears and warm glitterpuff bread
Pa Squigglehawk had brewed some honeydew wine
it sparkled like silver moondust and tasted so divine!
I flange wanged in the arms of a fit frazzlefairy
but we had to part when the bong went hairy
The next Squigglehawk ball is Saturday at eight
I can’t wait to wange with my frazzlefairy date
Craziest Time At The Poetry Contest
Choice 1: Craziest Time At .......
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
179 Words
07/27/20
... things observed, thoughts of change,
Drawing life...subjective sketch of charcoal.
If only she’ll be still, wild and strange.
The tilt of chin, may one rearrange?
Through the window of her eye, secret of the soul
to have observed thoughts of change.
The subject modeling for lessons in exchange,
...frightfully urbane! The panne`lined fur stole.
Such things observed; thoughts of change
....in the shades of conde grey substrate, a flange,
bone wrist inhibiting the wolf’s control,
hem of burnt umber, a plume of orange
derange,
caught the model... in her role
observed to change.
Enfold the flighty elbow, wing’s hinge.
Fixed, transparent gaze of silent owl
observing thoughts of change.
If only she were still wild and strange.
Corporal Angela (Ange) Birgit Kay
28July 1985 29 April 2015
I Met this girl in 2011
But alas she has gone to heaven
She was a great girl
And a Yorkshire lass
Far too young
For her too pass
When we were down
Ange was there
Now for your family
We send this prayer
A daughter a Sister
A fiancé and friend
But we all know
Its not the End
You have now gone
To see others past
In our minds
You will always last
Football was but one passion
And so was Tug o War
A real talent representing the Corps
A true spirited girl who
Strived for the best
Now you can be laid to rest
Ange you will sure be missed
Up in heaven getting Pxxxed
Look after those that went before
And remember its not a chore
Rip our dear Ange
Even if we called you flange
It was a pleasure to have served with you
Even now Im feeling blue
You were the best a friend could ask for
Please save us a place at heavens door
Until that day we meet again comes
Fly with those angels in the sky
And let us worry about the Why
R.I.P Angela Kay gone too young
my family roots
flange to three generations
stand on a tripod
the grace of values
fondued by humble elders
half here and half there
the hopping second
have tales full of humour
vanishing the blues
the out cradled babes
tow blood line of bold and old
exposing its veins
May 6, 2016
Haiku on My Family
For Marvin Celestial
The Poem and A Poet’s Worth
In senior years I sought to ply my thoughts
And render dreams into a flange of words
To strengthen all the senses in my brain
Creating rhythms beating out a chord
Of many forms into a kin of one
That manifests your feelings in a Poem
A muse of words to stimulate your soul
Where syllables will dance where you direct
And prose is driven to a wide domain
Imagining the breadth of its refrain
A Poet's Worth Contest June 1, 2015
FJ Thomas
Thusly, as per Good Sir John's contest prize contest, I humbly submit the
following:
Dear Sir John,of your poetic rhyme request,
I will now do my very best;
Sir John's Poetry rhyme request,
Though some may consider it rather strange,
And, perhaps, to some, a mighty challenge,
I think I might be able to arrange,
With a pilgrimage to mystic Stonehenge,
Where I may, in fact, rearrange...
those lenticular aspects of your family flange,
And, though the poetic quality may appear...
Somewhat mensa- menge',
I trust you'll find my work of acceptable range.
Once again, Good Sir King John the First,
Congratulations on a job well done!!
Your humble serf servant, tom bell.
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