Branches thatch a spackled sky.
Snow lays itself down
to sleep lightly.
An airborne coyote-itch addles
drops of sunlight
until they drizzle.
Splatters of graying-green
on the hairy chops of groundhogs
as they scrape up a scant buffet.
One Scarlet Cardinal bobs,
its ruby flounced headdress
scattering scads of frost.
Winter shucks its hoary hide,
stepping through a muddy mirage
of Spring.
Fanged winds pounce.
Puddles of rain return to ice.
Santa, Elf and Rudolph argued about -
Whose charisma Christmas can’t do without.
Santa bragged all human kind
Loves him as a mastermind.
Elfy turned green, Rudolph pouted his snout.
Elfy then struck a pose: “A cocky claim!
Despite the fact that all elves look the same,
Our gifts and toys are diverse
All around the Universe -
To rate our role just second best? For shame!”
Rudolph pranced on his dignity with pride,
Took his conceited co-workers aside.
Explained that without his sleigh
Gifts won’t see the light of day.
Neigh! And off he flounced for a joyful ride!
She put her cowboy boots on first and then her make up
Sniffing her ample posterior was her wiener dog Mup.
His brother Max looked interested from the cozy chair.
But if he left his cushion, Mup would be there.
She put lipstick and powder on her pretty face.
She is one of their besties, corpulent woman, Grace.
Her husband asked “why did you put your boots on first?”
She gave him a look that was one of her worst.
I mean, you are in your pajamas right? asked old Fred.
The dogs knew this was a mistake. But neither said.
Don’t go there with her! She is wearing that to work.
Don’t be ridiculous, Grace said. Don’t be a jerk!
But those are your PJ’s right? Fred said again.
She flounced away as if he had committed a sin.
He looked at the dogs and said “I like you the best.”
He was now in the doghouse, as you could have guessed.
Hey, cat, you are a familiar, right?
Ebony turned to see a strange cat, white.
I guess I am, I belong to a witch.
Can you please tell me if this tarot is Mitch?
Cat did not know, but wanted to act bright.
Mitch? Yes, I think so, yes, that is surely right.
Thank you kindly the white cat said.
So saying she flounced off, with her loaf of bread.
Bean bags are jumping on her head they said
I wondered what was going on, for it was Ned.
He is notoriously for saying things untrue.
He can make Granddaddy’s face turn red and blue
Whose head? I asked. Your head was the reply.
Now I knew it was nothing but a buzzard’s lie.
There is nothing jumping on my skull today.
So saying, I turned and flounced away.
“I saw it! I saw it!”, the groundhog announced.
“My shadow – it grew and it flounced!
Run! Hide! Save yourself and those you love
and leave the cold to the ground above!
Six more weeks of huddling and cuddling.
Here’s to the wonderful warmth of snuggling!"
I stood on that busy street
And I rattled out some tunes
On my tap dancing clogs
And a pair of soup
spoon
I rattled out some fast songs
And I rattled out some slow
I rattled out bonny songs
As I thought folk might know
And I placed my cloth cap
There between my feet
And folk threw their money in
And filled it up a treat
And a lass fro the baker’s shop
Brought me a fresh balm cake
Full of meat and tart sauces
That the baker do make
I tapped her a few steps
Went down on one knee
Saying oh my bonny lass
If only I were free
And she dropped me a curtsy
Flounced back across the square
Gracing that town street
By just being there
Then paddy kelly came and caught me
And marched me to a cold cell
But he let me keep my money
So I did very very well
And I went to the ale house
When he let me out
And I celebrated my freedom
With a glass of cold stout
Then I walked down the road
Rattling out a song
And doing a quick tap dance
As I marched along
Snails are snarling and sneaking around.
Escargot I mention, and they can no longer be found.
I get out the pot and I clang it on the stove.
An enormous one just under my grimy refrigerator dove.
Come on out here, and let us get a glimpse of you, I say.
They are trembling so hard; my curtains begin to fray.
What kind of a kitchen is this to help food hide out?
I am irritated now. I give a whistle and a loud shout.
Snails are whispering, hoping I will forget how tasty they are.
I decorate a hat with them and put one on hubby’s cigar.
I make pets of them and pretend they will not be flounced or beat.
But eventually, of course, we will get to eat them all sweet.
For now, they are fooled, and they begin wearing designer clothes.
They parade past the mirror, carrying my dad’s garden hose.
How could my food get any prettier? They simply look great!
I say to myself, as I ready my escargot plate.
Written 5-2-22
Contest: A Merger with Food Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Natasha L Scragg
Purple haze,
Twilight days,
Beauty's hour,
Fresh flower!
Purple haze,
A dawn blaze,
Rosebud red,
Sleep in bed.
Show and tell,
Perfume smell.
Purple haze,
Sunset rays,
Blue jay trill,
Evening chill,
Butterflies,
Pink surprise!
Purple haze,
Sunrise glaze,
Blooming parks,
Beauty marks.
Misty mounts,
Color flounced!
Purple haze,
Valley ways,
Honeybee,
Sugar tree,
Hard to see,
Mystery.
Beauty world,
Breezes twirled,
Purple haze,
A hued phase.
Every age
is a nursery for afterthoughts.
I am a wardrobe for naked shelves,
naked hips and joints,
naked space. Behind me
old clothes slung on a chair,
nylon clouds, woolen hills
all only partly filled,
partly lived in.
I call them ‘togs.’
my togs once used to dance
around gyrating girls
on floors that gleamed shiny
as new spun silk,
but that was when togs
were a statement of a younger,
more fake me.
Now my togs
are wrap arounds and comforting,
or just a little too tight
to accompany me
to the green shod park
where the wind flounced trees
swirl in their summer dresses,
both full-figured and slender.
Arboreal moments like this
help me ponder
on what afterthought to wear
tomorrow.
So tangerine apricot carrot colored and marmalade,
Blooms graced the garden of warm sunshine and shade.
Orange were rich dahlias where hummingbirds hummed,
With a rare beauty which left the daylight stunned!
Over with the blues, skies of chiffon clouds danced,
All of a summer, while huge marigold sun entranced!
Orange were the butterflies, searching for delights,
Whereas flame robins flounced and sang day and night!
Easter Sunday 1959
We were sparklingly modern
Petticoats flounced down the sidewalk
Boys wearing dark suits with clip on ties
Brother was reluctant
My cousin and I were delighted
Loving our new Easter bonnets and gloves
Lacy white anklets decorated our shoes
We felt pretty, and we were
We went up the church steps all giggly and giddy
Excited to show off our finery
Forgetting how painfully long
The reverend always rambled on and on....
Soon enough wondering if we would ever get to eat our chocolate eggs
Rumpelstiltskin's temper pronounced.
So many hard feelings he flounced.
Suspected maybe
He would get baby
Spun gold for no reason. Was trounced.
Written Jan 27, 2019 Contest: Limerick 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
.
Why does the sylph
inflame me so
The symbols clashed
Within mine dome
as she like the fairy
flounced before me
I
like the poet Daver
of yore
heard the ambulance
rush toward me
yesss
mine heart clattered
when the flower without skew
leaned over
exposing
hern
purty poison
*years later ;)
Lexicon ; SKEW
C14: from Old Norman French escuer to shun, of Germanic origin; compare Middle Dutch schuwen to avoid
Today I saw
a fairy
light and glittery
sparkling
It giggled
a sound like
delicate silver bells
and waved at me
She fluttered
over to me
and smiled
flounced her
flowery skirt
smoothed her perfect hair
she flew off
then continued
pulling the cat's tail
stealing pencils
and guiding ants
toward the kitchen.
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