sponsor : Constance La France
29.9.25
Placed : 3rd Standard Contest
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“Love is the Supreme Artist Unseen” Poet
with a silent kiss does sperm enter egg
butterfly fondle pollen in morning dew
starling swallow caterpillar askew
with silent kiss does sunbeam caress window sill
spoon dips shallot soup with gentle will
waves ripple shelly shoreline in thrill ~
with a silent kiss does newborn lick nipple
cloud embraces cloud, fluff huffed ripple
bud petal unfurls to air in dare
wrinkled stranded beggar’s knobby hand
smooch offered seeded loaf, prime brand
hands warm curl steering wheel, feel genteel
anchor lands on jewelled ocean floor
with silent kiss does sewing needle pierce
linen white, knife smear butter delight
dolphin fin rouse whale tail, ship returns lipping
the silent kiss but Love in polar need
destined to meet in embosom’s clasp
receiver with giver unmasked grasp
~~~~~
"Look what they've done to my song, Ma" ~ Melanie Saftka
Act I – Pie (One bright morning)
my muse just wants pie
I huffed, “Okay, give it a try.”
Pies begin with precision,
lovely decision.
I crave a treat, a sweet delight
one that brings a smile and makes my morning bright.
The popular apple and blackberry pie
Ah, just the thought makes me sigh.
Act 2 II – Ice-cream (Two hours later, on a yummy Sundae afternoon)
what fancy leads me on to dream
of sugar plums in frozen cream
I drool o'er yummy ice cream on my tongue
Thoughts of the tasty dish makes me so long
Betwixt lucky lips my eager tongue licks
A mouth watering afternoon dish fix
With a chuckle, he swore,
"I’ll just eat one more”.
The merry widow’s marvelous mincemeat melody
Was gradually heard around three by the old oak tree
Honestly said Bert, the bumblebee, is this the Grand Prix?
Miraculously, there was a royal red revelry
A chickadee landed on the right knee of Diana Dee
Making her a friend in furious practicality
Old oak tree receded into the loving forest canopy
Forming a deliberate, desired universal solid symmetry
Would you like a chewy chickpea Lee asked widow and me.
I heard hyena-like laughter from Leroy, the red-butted monkey
Rolling them in warm tortillas is the chef’s secret recipe
Flamboyant frog huffed away, jingling her copper jewelry
The rest of us stared, which we do on Wednesdays, habitually
Being yourself and making no apology is the key said monkey
The faeries made themselves tinier, they were in fact now wee
Lovely monorhyme in progress, guessed my observant cousin Vee
I must agree said my boss, the pompous persnickety Mr. McGee
The rhymes are rather delightful, and frankly, there are plenty.
Three funny-looking scraggly emu birds were pecking at my window
I thought it was the rain or maybe hail until I looked out
They were hilarious-looking; what did they want? I wanted to know.
I did not understand their bird speak, they finally huffed off in a pout.
Doohickey thought she should wear the crown
Gizmo huffed off in her greenish gown
Dofunny Dingus laughed and got crazy sick
Steam on the What-not-shelf was truly thick.
A little spark. A work of art.
She lit the dark and filled my heart.
Around I turned to feel the burn.
There she lies. I’ll never learn.
She huffed and puffed and blew me down.
I was amazed at what I’d found.
She drifted high above the rest
But didn’t pass the acid test.
A little prick under the skin.
It’s quite the trick how she snuck in.
Then through the vein up to the brain
The little things drove me insane.
She soothed and smoothed my troubled brow.
She calmed my nerves, I don’t know how.
She laid me down. I felt so blessed.
But didn’t pass the acid test.
A little sign. A dream defined.
I drew the line there in my mind.
Then, unaware, without a care
I breathed her in like so much air.
She revved me up and sped my pulse.
Somehow, some way she got results.
I must admit, she did impress
But didn’t pass the acid test.
He said he will do it or die
I huffed, “Okay, give it a try.”
He starts with our pool
The silly young fool
He wants to drink Canada Dry
He huffed and he puffed and he blew the side out of the house.
The other wolves were laughing, as was an eyewitness mouse.
Birthday cake was all right, but the house was destroyed by his huff.
You will have to fix this said his Grandma who sounded angry and gruff.
Those Tommies send their planes in large amounts
They drop their bombs but all they do is bounce
Like rubber balls their bouncy bombs all missed
Those British pilots must be really…
*
The steward asked the ‘Lady’ won’t you please enjoy our boat
The RMS Titanic is the safest ship afloat
The lady huffed and said a little service would be nice
I’ve got my gin and tonic… could you organise some ice?
*
Vesuvius is puffing out some wispy smoke today
They say there could be fireworks to brighten up Pompeii
How many more times will they say that mountain’s gonna go
And won’t somebody tell me what’s a pyroclastic…
…
Oh!
*
I learned my skills in marketing back in seventy three
For twelfth century Pisa was a training ground for me
I proved my salesmanship to market trader, Uncle Neville
I even got a few quid for that dodgy spirit level
I knew of a man who journeyed himself a threefold
Before he could face decease.
First, his coming into the world
It was I could say a thrill to all
Albeit the months' trials
He huffed and puffed
Wishing the new environment to be favourable ;
But it felt horrendous
However, he was courageous to endure the child's stage
This: marked the first-ended but starting point of his journey.
Thereafter he embarked on and embraced his secular travel
With the hanker of being an elite
And surely he became,
Achieving his bona fide Masters
With a monthly emolument in his name.
This: paved the path to his final journey.
That was the retired stage
Yes, he journeyed the journey of the old
And found no nicety of this age
Then, on spec, the jealous fate turned him to elapse
Craving the dude's journey to a halt.
This a house of unused tools
Bought for a purpose and then
Filed in a rusty toolbox
To be never used again
For with the next project
I’d frantically search around
I knew where I’d left them
But they never could be found
This is house of bodged jobs
not that i didn’t have the will
but some how my enthusuiasm
didn’t compensate for lack of skill
and i huffed and i puffed
did the best i could
but somehow it all looked
somewhat less than good
This is a house of frustrations
because in the end
The one that I loved
Became my best friend
And all passion just went
No romance at all
So now we sit and look at
Our badly painted walls
In this house of suppressed passions
A house of a moody man
Testosterone driven but
Just doing what he can
To hide the nagging need
That is always always there
For the act of love
And for tender loving care
Priscilla was born under a lucky constellation
Without a single bit of consternation
Born under a lucky constellation
The entire town was in celebration
We were excited, filled with excited jubilation.
A lovely couple – Wilbur and Winnie Thyme.
They had patiently waited a long time
To get the ultimate gift, a baby girl.
She was adorable too with one gentle curl.
They had wealth and cherished antiques.
They did not care; she was a doll who squeaks.
They were all about giving her whatever she needed.
She was a success, in everything she succeeded.
The Thymes were pleased, proud and puffed.
Priscilla was not the kind of girl who huffed.
She was born under a loving galaxy.
Cherished by every native – wild and free.
Flawsymay Mindgone is here to play.
I look in the mirror and know I am in trouble today.
She roller skates in the house and puts mud on the floor.
She calls up the neighbors and runs nude out the door.
My husband was looking in the mirror over my shoulder.
Come on! He said. Why can’t you calm down? You are a year older.
Flawsymay Mindgone comes when she wants to boogie and dance.
I'll ry to get away before midnight, without a rumor askance.
The last time she came over my friends huffed off all irritated and mad.
Told Mame she looks like a porker in her dress, which was kind of bad.
I am calling in sick, for I dare not arrive anywhere close to my school.
The principal there does not put up with any kind of irritating fool.
In the land of the old gray mare
Six meters behind the lion’s sweet lair,
There was a gnarly raccoon who did up hair.
He took little money to be absolutely fair.
His hair styles did have a certain flair.
Disappointment in his work was really rare.
A haughty ant went in without a care.
The fashionable raccoon pointed out “your head is bare”.
The aunt huffed off mad, really on a tear.
I feel this story I can reliably share.
You see I was in there, sitting on a tiny stair.
The anger was wafting for hours in the air.
Please do not give me that condescending look, teddy bear.
You after all, are not even wearing underwear.
I urge you to tell this tale better, if you dare.
Swirling with jumps and speed
The crimped and vague green motion flew
Through the eyes of the woodland court of wolves
Within their legacy of feral wilderness
As they descended from their obscure cathedrals
Driven from the twilight brush and branch
Howling, prancing with singing whimpers
Dancing in the circle of their royal rogue pilgrimage
Aligned within their heralded order
As the heirs of distant ancestral calling
Blunted and bent in their nobleness-
Theses guardians of the sky road
Gather in their ancient sacred quest
To summon the moon mother
To awaken to the lupine's equinox
There in the thrum of their zeal they traversed
Into the core of mystical madness
With open mouths
Flashing their pearlescent teeth
The tang of their snouts quivered and huffed
Charged with oblivious and naked determination
To plumb the mad soul of the moon
In this peerless eventide
Igniting the ritual of their kinship with Spring
March 24, 2021
Eight Word Bardenesque Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
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