Little did I know it
I might be a poet
Though I know it will take time
To get in the groove
If my legs can't move, then writing will do.
I never know what to say
It's like getting caught in the rain
Or tip toeing past your parents room at night
It's like sitting with the wind,
Getting caught in your hair
And at just the right moment
Someone stops to stare
I have to work on the flow,
It's like rowing a boat
But what about the scenery
Im in the garden of time,
I don't really mind.
It's calming, the greenery.
And the way that the time passes me by.
It's hard not to get stuck there.
The sound of the waterfall is a delight
Its like getting the rhyme right
Somewhat like a wind chime
But isn't there more
Like a story to adore, I cant let it be a bore, right?
Where do I go from here, I guess we'll see
A poet who didn't know it, is it meant to be?
All I asked for was a platonic kiss
but Cupid, he wanted much more than this
He said, "Get in the groove
Show her your best move!
For if this isn't love, I don't know what is!"
I wish I could get in the groove,
As I used to years ago
My body parts won't move
When my heart pleads with them to go.
The music is fantastic,
With that perfect beat
My legs feel like elastic
When I stand up on my feet
A singer is trilling,
An old favourite song of mine
Her voice is not thrilling
But it brings back memories, Divine
Next, the sound of a drummer
Giving his very best
Rendition, putting his version
Of Rhythm to the test.
Rhythm brings Joy
To everyone who listens
It makes you want to dance
Or it can make your eyes glisten,
Glisten with tears,
Both Happy and sad,
Feeling the rhythm of life, you had
And still, have that today.
It will stay with us all
Until we quietly fade away.
The dance recital showcased
Hip-hop, jazz and yes, ballet.
The costumes and the music
Put much talent on display.
From pre-schoolers up to college,
All their hard work guaranteed
That they’d entertain us beautifully
And they sure did, indeed.
We were focused on our grandchild
And she nailed her every move,
Smiling ear to ear as we were
Watching her get in the groove.
For my first time in the theater
Since we first felt Covid’s bite,
I was thrilled with this production,
Such an absolute delight.
I gotta move, move, move
Get in the groove, groove, groove
Across the floor and dance, dance, dance
Shaking my pants, pants, pants
I gotta run, run, run
Having too much fun, fun, fun
I cant stop, stop, stop
Must jump up and hop, hop, hop
I gotta shake, shake, shake
The windows quake, quake, quake
No where to hide, hide, hide
Doing the shimmy and jive, jive, jive
I gotta wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Makes me giggle, giggle, giggle
No chance to frown, frown, frown
For Ill never slow down, down, down
Your Amphetamine Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausen
4/9/19
Verse 1
Strike a chord, sensational
Atmosphere relational
Rhythmic flavour, wonderful
Tempo combinational
Bridge
Soulful styles, set to sooth
A joyful mix, get in the groove
Improvising to the beat
Rendition, repeat
Chorus
A starry, dreamy, bright array
Such instrumental harmony
Side by side as players play
Celebration certainly
Sunset at the jazz cafe
Verse 2
Drum and trumpet at a pace
For an alternating chase
Melodies that interlace
Fusion of a lower base
Bridge
Chorus
Outro X2
Chords half stepping, yeah yeah
Back and forth, oh yeah
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©?
I am a tomb of ancient bloom.
I was young once, and pretty.
Now that I am of middle age,
and beauty fades, I must adjust.
To being unseen, no beauty queen.
I must not dance or prance about.
Although inside I dance still.
No one sees the pretty me.
I am a tomb, must I mummify?
Damn it all, I refuse to die.
Still slip on my dancing shoes.
Close my eyes, get in the groove.
Imagine all eyes still upon me.
This acient bloom won't go soon.
Way out in space in what's called the dark hole.
There's a place that many know of and many have been told.
It's a place where the final space ship is being built.
And men are sending materials each day the way they live.
If you know the Builder and have accepted His Son.
Then your part of the spaceship will someday be done.
But friend if you don't know Him, then get in the groove.
And start sending material so that spaceship soon can move.
The space ship won't consist of metals, bolts, and screws.
But the prayers of the faithful, and for those who did choose.
It will fly through space in the twinkling of an eye,
And many of you reading this may never have to die.
The Pilot of the space ship that I'm writing about.
Is none other than the Christ Child from Christmas, there's no doubt.
But He won't be a baby this time when He comes.
But will be the King of Kings and Lord of Lords and some folks will run.
He'll give up this spaceship for a white horse to ride.
And the Bible says everyone will see Him and no one can hide.
Changing schools was the rule
Never stayed long and get in the groove
Making friends never ended
Fitting in was always mended
So a loner I became
I don't remember many names
But I learned to love to learn
Still have a heart that yearns
For knowledge on many subject
Even on aliens that abducted
Went to college after I wed
When all my children were in school instead
Finished a college degree
When I held a grandson on my knee
Then I continued my education
Master's Degree in Christian Station
Ten hours on a PhD got so tired
Oh! I was totally mired
Thinking about going again on a wager
Work on a psychology major
With a minor in poetry
Where I can write and just be me
(Poor excuse for a couplet but will have to do. This is for Education Game passed to me by
my lovely daughter Doris Culverhouse who received the torch from James Frazer. I pass the
thinking cap to James Marshall Goff to write a poem about education.)
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