Grayson, a great white found a beacon in the water
we are meant to follow it, he told his daughter
he followed it seventeen times around the cape
an ordinary basketball which had made an escape
Categories:
grayson, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form: Rhyme
Away Babbling, Certain Discourteous Expression Face.
Grayson Howard, Impeachable Judgement Kept Lingering.
Moments Negligent, Ostentatious Pride Quake Ratiocinates.
Self-absorbed, Thoughts Unspoken, Vivify Warm Xemial Yearning Zest.
Categories:
grayson, confusion,
Form: ABC
“Brettley Bear”
Brettley came, but not without a fight.
Brettley came showing us his great might.
Slowly arriving, I’ll come on my own time,
Don’t worry, don’ fret I’m one of a kind.
At last, at last Brettley completed his nine,
Still fighting, still fighting, Brettley said I’ll be fine.
Nick and Meghan held him oh so tight,
Slowly but surely Brettley won the fight.
Happy and healthy with a gleam in his eye,
Mommy and Daddy breathed a great sigh.
So cute, so sweet, he’s such a delight,
Oh the faces he makes, oh what a cute sight!
He looks he stares with such intent,
Showing love, showing love, without one word being spent.
Watch out Grayson, watch out, I’m stealing Mom and Dad’s heart.
Watch out big brother! Watch out!
“Brettley is out!”
Categories:
grayson, baby, birth, blessing, family,
Form: Rhyme
I was in love at only seven
Her name was Miss. Grayson
We made butter in mason gars
But, I was the one asked to hand the crackers out
I really scared her one Halloween
I put a paper skeleton in her top drawer
She acted as her fright gave her a heart attack
Her acting was so good I told her after school
I was the one who scared her and I was sorry
She hugged me and with a smile said
Bobby, it’s fine
But, one day she told the class she was to marry
My heart was broken she was my first teacher love
True Story
Contest: Favorite Teacher or Professor
Sponsored by: Chantelle Ann Cooke
Date Created: 01/05/2019
Categories:
grayson, education,
Form: Free verse
Of John Bruce, the poet, and Grayson Perry's exhibition, 'The Vanity of Small Differences'...
Outside looking in
From John’s pocket moths appear
As violins weep
Beggars from the pavement see
Art through a glass darkly
Grayson’s woven tales
Of social mobility
Inaccessible
Myths of the tapestries lost
To legend and irony
Illicit colours
Seep through windows to the street
Teasing, beautiful
Sweet tale of the poet’s life
John Bruce; tantalised by light
by Gail
Categories:
grayson, art, beauty, irony, longing,
Form: Tanka
dear grayson capps...
you don't know me
i doubt you ever will
i'm just the nobody
you met at phoenix hill
at the bar before the show
i bought you a brew
i said "i'm a nobody"
you said "i'm a nobody too"
i drove all that way
just to see your show
cause there were things
that you needed to know
i told about my life
and how i used to be
and how your words
inspired changes in me
we parted ways
and you took the stage
i felt honored when
you mentioned my name
"a couple of nobodies"
you said out loud
pointing to me standing
out in the crowd
my pain and sorrow
lead to the slaughter
down to the river
baptized in your muddy water
Categories:
grayson, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme