The moon cannot be lassoed, the persnickety opossum said.
Cat next to him laughed so hard, his face turned pink, then red.
Depends on how magical you are, the feline said with knowledge of many.
He lassoed the moon, which gave us enough swiss cheese to feed twenty.
Cowboy pig’s hooves are full of lovely red roses.
He is giving them to his gal pal, hoping to touch noses.
The violets part in the barnyard, so he can get through.
If he cannot find his valentine, what will he do?
She’s over there! The sheep tells him with an annoying bleat.
Don’t step in that cow pie! You won’t smell very neat.
Cowboy pig lassoes the beauty and gives her a kiss on the cheek.
He is suave and debonair she tells the chickens, and oh, so sleek!
"Plain women know more about men than beautiful ones do."
-Katherine Hepburn
Plain Women
Those pretty ones, those halidomes with cascading blond hair, who mark themselves with beauty marks to impersonate imperfection, whose reflection in the mirror hugs them tight, spreads their charm far and wide like butter on endless bread. They know every inch of their own beauty. But for men, they know how to slip him on their pinky and like a velociraptor, lick their lips forking a man’s tender heart.
her self-reflection
the dereliction of him
untamed perfection
Invisible attributes and adorable makeup tug and squeeze, pleasing to the lips and thighs. She’s a quick study, takes refresher courses on his mind. The plain woman quicksteps, closes in, captures her man’s heart unabashed to enter his personal space, the puzzle just her size. She lassoes him over and over again. He’s satisfied.
a lifetime study
his eyes, his important tasks
plainly she loves him
1/8/2020
Maureen McGreavy’s She Inspires Series KH Poetry Contest
a firm handshake and hearty toothy smile
baring his teeth for each teenager’s tryst
midnight glares painstakingly into boy’s eyes
the door closes softly for a father’s namesake
upon return at a kissable stage that same door
lassoes daughter inside and bolts shut the exit
dreamy eyes of youth stare down at shuffling feet
a serenade of hopefulness wants to win her hand
father holds a rifle or any resemblance to said weapon
even if crossed arms and teeny tiny eyes like rays
the boyfriend will have to prove his worth by balance
fakery will not do! Only knight’s gold will tip the scale
6/17/2018
Happy Father’s Day
Villanelle : On listening to Al Di Meola, John McLaughlin and Paco de Lucia Concert - June 12, 1980
Tico Tico swallows tumbling in the frisky air
Round and round in Rondenôs whisk sparrows
Paco aloof in Andauzian tempo Malaguena rare
Piroueting incisive onrush cascades bare
No strings wave upon wave in strict sweeping rows
Tico Tico swallows tumbling in the frisky air
John abeting Al to shake free from Camaron dare
The tsunami shaking out of the Devil's maws
Paco aloof in Andaluzian tempo Malaguena rare
All argumentative cursing beginning no-where
Irascible abrasive rabid racy tune soars
Tico Tico swallows tumbling in the frisky air
Torrential currents let John loose in manic scare
That Al contests entraps in torrid lassoes
Paco aloof in Andaluzian tempo Malaguena rare
This salmagundi of virtuoso notes snare
One and all from the caverns of Sleepy Hollows
Tico Tico swallows tumbling in the frisky air
Paco aloof in Andaluzian tempo Malaguena rare
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2018
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