“Restoring beauty from decrepitness
fulfills the heart with treasured happiness.”
_by Poet
Decrepit was a table we once owned,
part of our living room so long ago,
left in the home, my Dad, in time, had sold.
After my Mom had passed, he let it go
with other matching pieces, later sold
by the new owners, barring this one piece
left at the curbside, mixed with other trash.
I saw this, and my heart could find no peace.
Dilapidated, shabby, and decayed
our antique table, which my Mom adored,
was left unguarded in a leaky shed-
abandoned and exposed- so poorly stored.
I placed it in my trunk and drove away
to meet a friend with fine restoring apt.
I knew he'd make it look as good as new;
decrepit to a polished look, adapt.
It soon appeared as I remembered it;
restored into a lovely work of art.
I do embrace it as my mother's gift.
This heirloom has returned to never part.
A sleazy greedy cheating single-minded
lying used car salesman with ambition
had higher aspiration hopes
of a top managerial position
altho' customer trust was a must
as the fast-talking low-life archetype
his focus was on moving their money
into his pocket with one fell swipe
so to move as much merchandise
as a man can possibly do
while on rota to meet his quota
he'd advertise low mileage good as new
yet of the hundred motors or more
parked polished outdoors and on show
when viewers knew not what to purchase
and wanting a coupe which would go
as prospective buyers they'd ask in dismay
the pointed all-important question
'Which car should I buy, of those on display?'
he would reply, 'Try my auto suggestion.'
Not 5 feet tall she does stand proud,
And trust me she can work the crowd.
When job’s all done
She’s up for fun,
And that comes with laughing out loud!
Her children are grownups in fact,
All trying to clean up their act.
Bond not broken,
Love unspoken -
Maternal instincts still intact!
She knows the chessboard like her hand,
The forks and gambits are well planned.
Knight, rook or pawn -
The battle’s on,
All pieces snap at her command!
She now sports a wrinkle or two,
Yet fashion sense as good as new.
By any means
She struts her jeans
In hippie style of fading blue!
Poetry, her integral part,
Her way with words is off the chart.
Her sharp tongue works
Through quips and quirks,
That blows your mind and wins your heart!
She claims she has no shades of grey,
But once you dissect her wordplay,
Her dark side shines
In hidden lines,
Then LOL goes a long way!
When us dogs lie there and stare up at you
What do you think they're thinking
Are they thinking whatever you say I agree with
Because you feed THEM every day without fail
We don't have hands their paws are useless
For opening bags or cans
Tried biting the lid off early last month
Needed stitches, trouble eating for quite a while
What! Are you surprised they know what a month is
I'm not just your average pet you know
I'M A GOLDEN RETRIEVER
We're a special breed just want all humans to know
Us guys should be treated like royalty
We love everybody and don't mean to knock people down
We get a little over excited at times
Mean no harm hoped your stay in the hospital
Would be short and you'd come out as good as new
Us dogs... sorry us GOLDENS are a special breed
We don't associate with other less sophisticated breeds
Well, now that I've completely blown your mind
Perhaps next time we talk you'll have recovered
One thing before I go mute again
It'll be enough when wifey finds out I can talk
An ornament fell
Quickly to the floor
An angel object
She holds a lantern
Held held high in her hand
When the angel fell
The lantern came off
When the angel fell
I grabbed the scotch tape
Now the angel fixed
She is good as new
Magic saw cuts assistant in two
Pretty lady emerges good as new
Magician pulls hankie from hat
Dove flies away
He tells you your name, DOB,
even your fortune
The man rakes in the money ~
Entertainment’s portion
Meet us at the pond says the fairy and the elf.
I cannot leave yet because my wife is stuck on the shelf.
This was said by the mouse, who lived in a cracker house.
Come on! Said the faerie, we can go on without mouse.
No! Said the bullfrog, I will help his wife get down.
The syrup fell off the shelf too and the bullfrog was brown.
We’ll take a fast dip, and you will be as good as new.
This was said by the mouse and his wife, her name was Little Lou.
blue irds roosted on the top of the moon
Listening to the good witch as she gave a croon
Her two magical mystical familiars sitting still as bats
Which is not so unusual for these ebony cats
What is she doing? one bird asked the other.
He never guesses first, wants this to be his brother.
Shh! The other bluebird hissed, watching carefully.
The good witch began to chant and pour elixir with glee.
Hither and Bither, Smither and Bob.
This magic elixir should well do the job.
This polluted brook should be as good as new.
Thriving on fresh water and love in a day or two.
Pouring health and goodness into the brook
She then gave the moon a wink, and quickly off-shook.
Her familiars followed her to the next polluted lagoon.
And the sky retrieved the light of the crescent moon.
Himbuggles and Shimbuggles, what is this I see?
The chanting continued from the good witch Carolyn Lee.
Giggles and Gaggles, I need more goodness to pour.
So I can next give this lagoon a marvelous restore.
Taming the fire
By Michelle Morris
27/09/2020
When your world is on fire and
they're watching it burn,
enjoying the flames and
your torture internal...
Remember that it will pass,
as all things do,
and when the flames go out,
you'll be as good as new...
A phoenix risen,
powerful and mighty;
no one can touch you,
you're above it and flying...
And they will never
be as strong -
For taming the fire is only
For the special ones...
© Michelle Morris, 2020
The hours tick off
I know every one
Familiar their chimes
until the day dawns...
Crawl out of bed in the morning
though not 'good as new'
A gallon of coffee ~
may yet see me through
Spring is not all it is made out to be
There are swarming black flies, blood thirsty ticks
Caterpillar invade, like a movie
Finding yourself constantly, trying to flick
Of course, no one likes sweeping insect poop
Or running from bees nests in the garden
Chickens can help if you may have a coop
Smiling flowers will not let hearts harden
Mosquitos decide to follow the rest
Repellent is frequent, to say the least
The slugs and the earth worms think they're the best
But sometimes snakes emerge, like a beast
Besides all this, there is the thick mud, too
Plan for showers; you will feel good as new
Heidi Sands
2/12/23
Placed 4th in the Spring is not all poetry contest. Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner
You are feeling stressed
You feel you're under arrest
Perhaps you should not protest
Hold still, it's a necessary test
You have been put on the shelf
It's time to look at yourself
Pray more, talk less, listen more
God has treasure for you in store
On the shelf, you will more than survive
On the shelf, you will make strides and thrive
God has put His lasting shelf life inside of you
Be still and know that you are always as good as new
A can of beans might say, "Best by 10/04/25"
A package of bacon might say, "Use by 09/10/22"
There's no 'best by, use by date' on your forehead.
On the shelf, you are secure in Him and have 'everlasting use'.
So, relax on the shelf, and be ready when God reaches for you.
083122PS
He gave it to her
To give to you
He expects back
when you're through
a little worn
gently used
some TLC
Good as new
This gift he gave
to give to you
Respect it
love it and
Share it too
This beautiful gift
That's Given to you
is pure as gold through and through
So what is this gift
Too good to be true
It's the gift of life
As if you knew
No one can take this gift from you
Not even the one that gave it to you
He loves us so
he let it be known
Proves his existence
and life goes on
Proves his love
Is pure and strong
By giving us
his very own
This gift he gave to give to you
The gift of life that proves it's true
He exists I always knew
If thou Believeth
Thou shall not perish
But forever cherish
This beautiful gift that's given to you
Respect it
love it
And share it too
Letting a flame of hope burn
means bringing light to that
obscure dream falling apart;
can something of exceptional value
be built from the ashes that have burnt?
Can we fix a broken vase with glue
and think it is as good as new?
All these assumptions have a specific clue:
when choices are many, not few!
Is a mile an actual mile,
or an approximate length defined by space?
Is our perception as lucid as a mirror
in which we see those traits with a flair?
Do all of our virtues reflect honor or disgrace?
Are our tempers good-natured or vile?
Letting a flame of hope burn
gives a new shape to an abandoned dream
thought to be as vain as ambition
not felt more than a beating heartbeat,
or awaiting a miracle to happen
in the midst of troubling times that gleam
on gruesome faces of anger and defeat...
when trust is spurned in taciturn scorn!
Is imagining a life abundant with deserved joys contrary
to the orthodox creed one must spend it in solemn prayers?
Is sacrifice a duty or a choice determining one's destiny:
whether our prospective is victorious or fails expectations?
The new groom
Loved his bride so
One day she took ill
He took her in tow
I'll clean and I'll cook
Set you up with a book
In a day, maybe two
You'll be as good as new
To eat, what's your request
I'm at your behest
Tell me your heart's desire
And I'll crank up the fire
Hard-boiled eggs, she smiled
So he dropped two in a pot
Turned on the stove
But they didn't get hot
He waited and waited
The morning grew old
But those two raw white eggs
Stayed cool, if not cold
The gallant groom paced
Even stamping his foot
Yet all he got for his efforts
Was some dust and some soot
Up from her sickbed
The bride took her groom's place
Lit a match to the gaslight ~
Put egg on his face
Related Poems