Decades a midwife a definer of rights written so patients
And authoritys both knew their plights.' Un-jabbed 2020 up
Till today, yet prosecuted by N Z jacinda aderns machine which stated
She had to pay? They tried to bully and really every sick trick.' Even forgery of her signature, i think they were a bit thick? Well its all turned turtle, and they're panicking now..
The genocidal mantra.' The outright lies and deceit show
I advise a trip to you-tube where if you enter her name.?
Under New Zealand midwife, it will truly enlighten your brain.'
Irene boxed it all up and took it outside.
There were five thousand one hundred and twenty-five boxes.
If you sort one box every day, you will have this sorted in no time.
Irene was a mathematician.
She divided it out.
If she sorted one box a day
It would take her fourteen years to sort it all out.
She went back inside and got a match.
The fire burned for three days
Her long eyelashes
are fetching.
Irene has beautiful eyes,
most donkeys have.
When I call her, she comes,
but not right up to me,
she trots to my side
turns,
facing the same way I am looking.
I am not looking at anything much,
we two are just sharing the moment,
that’s what friends do.
The charming Lady Adler Irene;
Was strangely nowhere to be seen;
As revealed by this clear blanked out scene;
Where those who knew her said she'd been,
Where oft she did appear.
That splendid genius Sherlock Holmes;
For whom no mystery stayed unsolved;
Took up the case within a beat;
As it transpired this curious feat,
Involved his very own sweet dear.
Now Holmes used every trick he knew;
He studied every minute clue;
Searched high and low to no avail;
There simply was no sign or trail,
To indicate what foul did play or who.
But dear Irene had not been taken;
She had in fact just been forsaken;
Her jealous Holmes would have decried;
Her talent, should she ever have tried,
To solve a case or two.
One assumed she changed her name to Ira;
Bought tickets to the Riviera;
With an Italian beau in tow;
To crack the case of how Italians row,
To show her Holmes!
But Irene's path led not to Rome;
Her beauty lost on Sherlock Holmes;
Jamaica had seduced her mind;
She lost herself in Caribbean rhyme,
A rum filled hut now home.
whenever she says hello
without bowing
look at me
Not with the eyes,
but with the light of heart
look at me
And I'm soaking
in the joy of life
like that time.
It was the year of `Spirit in the Sky.’
I kept your picture Irene.
We all thought we would die young.
Your grainy wedding photograph
(cut at the time from a local newspaper),
has emerged again like a yellow submarine.
I imagine your rainbow stockings still flying
from the periscope of that long abandoned vessel.
The sky-spirit is arriving Irene,
seagulls are singing like larks.
I suspect that both our eyes
are turning to diamonds Irene,
shining diamonds.
For Princess Ann Gilmore
~Across the Pond~
I wish I could meet Princess Ann!
I just know she would like me.
My royal calico fur, my gentleness.
My kind green eyes, she’d see.
I was just resting on Mum’s chair!
Dreaming of shells, England and the sea.
Just once, I prayed just once, dear God.
Please allow me, lovely Princess Ann to see!
~Love, Queen Irene~
3-16-2022
Her Majesty Queen Irene
a most elegant royal cat
folk take one look
like an open book
with her majestic royal aura
they simply love and adore her
her colours are
so special
so regal
so grand
Queen Irene oh so loyal inside her castle royal
Awaits for her beloved Panagiota
For she has gone she knows not where
Left all alone ~ no one at home
maybe dear Panagiota
forgot her…
Queen Irene she begins to swoon
as Panagiota walks into her room
and gently Irene jumps upon her knee
As Panagiota calls her name
so happy to be home again
Softly purring Queen Irene
wonders where her love has been ~
Vowing she will never let her out of sight again…
Written 3rd December 2021
for Queen Irene ^~^ and dear Panagiota ~ may they be together forever soon...
Contest A BRIAN STRAND 1092
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
Listen to her death certificate’
Who’d fought for life’s duplicate
“Severe Anorexia
Secondary to status asthmaticus”.
Oh! How it had rung worse than Amnesia
And had meant some asthmatic curse.
Several struggle -out “God, Receive my soul’’
As death bell was about to toll
I, to the hilt, a struck-dumb spectator
For the longest seconds, tongue-tied commentator
Soon, rapidly pondering not why she should expire
But why villainous terminator should soon acquire…
At conspiratorial 9:25 pm
Breathing becoming lame,
A kick-started rigor- mortis locking her jaw,
My father striving to restrain a law
My own hand withdrawing from a once-banging heart,
Never wanting a second nearing of what should be soundless.
A new contentment with a mentally arranged cart
That should to a fridge make it noiseless…
A resuming night nurse in a provocative see-through,
Richly delivering part of what Irene had said as true..
A hospital of some ineptitude
For losses borne with fortitude.
On this day, twenty- four years you left
Rock of ages for me cleft.
Dearest Irene
Queen of Cats
Your dear Panagiota
Will soon be back
Wait patiently Irene
And before too long
You'll hear her voice
Singing you a song
And she'll be dressed
In her feather boa
With a spring in her step
Looking just as you know her
As you run to meet her
You can't wait to greet her
She's the one you adore
Walking through the door
As you snuggle up
together ~
forevermore...
Written 9th November 2021 ~ for dear Irene QUEEN OF CATS ^~^
Panagiota's beloved cat ~ may they be reunited soon...
POEM OF THE DAY 10.11.21
Contest A STRAND (1069)
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
It would be so wonderful
to break into the impenetrable heart of Irene
who opposes my advance and feels serene;
what is the reason for her resistance?
Am I not what she expects in essence,
or even a liar so deceitful?
No woman's hand I have touched
and smeared it with any impurity,
I have always loved passionately;
given all and proud of what I did!
To break into the impenetrable heart of Irene
is harder than convincing a drunken fool to believe in dreams;
I didn't ask for loneliness and stare at a clock that gleams...
I should have listened to the advice of Josephine!
Why is there a reminder of Ruth,
of that affair that ended in August;
is it anger or distrust...
if I have clearly led out
my intentions and plans
on the platter of simple truth?
ah, my many attempts
have not been worth it!
To break into the impenetrable heart of Irene,
one must be rich and willing to buy her precious diamonds;
sadly, she has traded money for faithfulness;
I often wonder if she misses my touch in a sensual scene!
This is just a freestyle poem
I really don't have much time
I love to sit and wonder
I crack up every time I rhyme
all you have to do in life
if you want to get ahead
is beat your sister up the stairs
on the way to bed
when you start to take life too seriously
it's not fun to play anymore
everything's so serious
everyone is a bore.
I say we should all freestyle
maybe just for today
we don't know what you're thinking
so what do you have to say?
IRENE ^~^ zzzzzzz...
Now my friend has a pussy called Irene
She is regal
She writes poetry
She is known as the Queen
Each day she eats salmon from a golden tureen
But one day last spring
A fat rat wandered in
Falling asleep on her golden tureen
And to her surprise whilst eating rat thighs
Irene found them deliciously lean
low fat ~ if you know what I mean...
No more salmon or caviar she's addicted to rat
But not Ratatouille for that is too chewy
Irene now eats a dish known as Rat-a-tat-tat
slowly cooked by my friend in a purple chef's hat...
12th February 2020
Ode to Irene ^~^ a most unusual cat...
Contest Strand Select N
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
Stress pulled Me Myself and Irene
went from nice to stubbornly mean
had to change to help me
because nobody was helping me
No respect a joke and clown
treating me without a care
as you expect broke me down
a long long time and everywhere
I went from saying please
to I will hurt you
no time or energy
no concern too
naive and nice
kind for approval
desperate to be liked
easily useable
Make effort show interest
take time to care
looking to help, notice
always be there
Hoping they’d be helpful
slowly felt a fool
needing yet still hopeful
No help at all
Listen to my mind
tell me what you think
haven’t got the time
weakening the link
Where’s the friend like me
lending hand and free
Care they’ve come to see
when in their hour of need
You treated Me Myself and Irene
and I became mean
Note the difference and complain
explain? You drove me insane
You saw the way Hank had to be
well you did that to me
started behaving how I see
thanks for nothing
The night light burns,
Flickering candle in a
Jar of clay. Shadows
Become rats running
And then forming a
Circle of dance. I rub
My eyes in dis-belief.
It's gone 12. I should
Be in bed asleep. I am
Not. I am waiting up
For my sister Irene. I
Am tired. I am alone.
I am frightened. I feel
Like crying. Fearful.
I hear a key turn. It's
Irene. I am a child.
I go to sleep. Night!.
Related Poems