The sun is rising in the Eastern sky,
its rays cutting the early morning mist.
To shine on the inky black waters cried,
by fallen maidens to an unjust fist
Why have they been beaten so hard they break.
Causing such pain and sorrow as to cry,
for an eternity to spawn a lake.
Not seen by night or serf as they pass by.
Its not their fault time has taken their looks
they become knurly and twisted with age.
To wander the forest to hide their shame.
Until time takes their life and their rage.
But their masters, the Ogres, life is long
Beauty is their lust and young their desire.
Categories:
knurly, woman,
Form: Sonnet
Nitwit and Nincompoop
While walking along had started to wonder
How really bad has been each blunder
After hearing a message God had sent
Said you are perfect person for President.
Even if fighting fool or a belligerent bat
Rowdy Republican or endeavoring Democrat
Chances are truly, immensely on your side
That everyone in Congress always lied.
Congress is such an irresponsive group
As well as knurly nitwit and nincompoop
Not ever knowing what side should be on
Looking for someone to blame things upon.
Present President is one who you can blame
Regardless of their sex, race, creed or name
Now needless Congress has an incessant urge
To pile up bills while they continue to splurge.
I have finally become a peaceful pigeon
And regardless of what may be my religion
Things are definitely designed for disaster
Unless I meet desires of my Lord and Master.
Jonathan Hilarious Precarious Horn
Retired Veteran
Categories:
knurly, humor, political, religious,
Form: Couplet