the wind blew in from the west, I felt it in my breast.
colder than the wind from the east, like a witch’s kiss.
Hallows Eve! A jack-o-lantern lisped, it sounded like a hiss.
She is on her way, whispered another, maybe Godmother.
Queen gray cat, a ghoul more dangerous than a black one
Mother of October sky who would annihilate the night’s fun.
She is coming! An oak tree warned, hiding the leaf he had left.
Gray Cat arrived on the back of a wildebeest named Cleft.
It was as if the night had gone black, the stars were gone.
Moon was hiding, right? Asked my cousin Shawn.
Let me finish, I urged her, it’s my turn to speak.
But she had to ruin my story by interrupting at its peak.
In my suffering without Him,
enriched, on her perfect soul,
She ceas’d to sing–
yield the blue,
beloved air,–
And then she found Jesus
Lay your eyes on the rising sun:
before I came to a
perfect change of time,
each day to sing
Return the song that
your true voice
again;
fell back upon her face
,
Jesus Is her everything
Eyes like a perfect
judge in time,
whispered my look
through the dark
night,
Lisped in her spirit and body
Laid my honest eyes
away;
Last night she
passed behind a
year
Lisped in her hand a
low voice,
She heard Him say
I am Jesus, your light,
and I am
your everything.
A beaver and a bandicoot,
After playing squash one day,
Were sipping cappuccinos
At a quaint outdoor café.
"Ah, thish ish sho like Parish",
Lisped the beaver with a sigh.
"And I," remarked the bandicoot,
"am 'minded of Mumbai,
And Rome, and Barcelona,
And so many other places."
The beaver merely sat there
Being quiet and making faces.
"What's the matter, chum?" asked bandicoot,
His voice as soft as flannel,
"I thought you tripped as much as I.
Don't you watch the Travel Channel?"
Single sexy stuttering simple sue,
Loved lean laughing lisping Lou,
She spoke softly slow sentences,
Lou lisped loud without pretences!
Often were out on romantic dates,
By heart and mind such good mates,
Joked and laughed their whole time,
Spoke in stutters and lisped in rhyme!
Said she one day in romantic note,
How do you likke mmmy leather coat?
He laughed lisped “ you loos fo dood!
By that he meant ‘you look so good!’
Days passed,they were ready to wed,
She wanted him one day in her bed,
She made the bold move and asked
If hhhe wwwould stay for breakfast?
He feigned a surprise with a smile,
He pretended about it for a while,
Then with a lisp he said “Yef, I fould!”
With that he meant “Yes! I would!”
That night together in love cocoon,
He opened all his heart to her soon,
To ‘suck’ with her was always his dream,
So she promptly took him out for an ice cream!
For those in love who stutter or lisp,
Here is a message, short and crisp,
If you want to say something inviting,
Do communicate your love, in writing!
Written 09/august/2020
Sponsor Kai Michael Neumann
It Sucks poetry contest!
Jane had a stutter
She took her time to speak
Her little sister Lucy lisped
Which sounded rather sweet
Her father had a loud voice
He was master of the house
Her mother spoke softly
Like a timid little mouse
Her brother was dumb
And he couldn't say a word
Grandma was deaf
She mixed up everything she heard
The pussy cat purred
The Alsatian dog barked
The Canary in a cage
Sang like a lark
The kettle on the hob
Whistled merrily
Mum put her knitting down
And made a cup of tea
The craziest creature
Straight out of a feature
Was named Mr. Beecher.
Foaming came from his mouth.
And his dribbling went south.
Also he lisped like a gigantic louse.
He became our art teacher.
This creature named Beecher.
Bulbous nose his best feature.
On our papers he would sneeze.
After a “humph” and a wheeze.
He was a snotty old tease.
We planned and we plotted.
Our ink we all blotted.
To prove he was dotted.
They took him away.
To a funny farm to stay.
It was a Tuesday.
Art therapy at five!
Beecher was truly alive!
Funny farm was his jive!
.
Ourn eyne meet
'pon mine rise
I felt the tremors
of her lips
too
at ourn vocals
connect
whilst hern pretty
lisped
She lay asleep in dreamland just six years old, been poorly for awhile
She loved to see books of fairies, been thinking, how can I make her smile.
Rose was due to go for treatment, away for just two days in clinic
Got busy on the internet arranging surprises with a click
We have an organisation to make children’s dreams come alive
help me make a fairies den, of four bedroom walls as a surprise
They arrived in numbers all with a special chore
Four walls turned into make believe, a chapter from folklore
Her face broke out in smiles, tears of joy fell from all eyes
With a gap for front teeth she lisped" I can be a fairy, fanks for the surprise".
Four walls need not a prison make, can turn it into a dream
Be a knight in shiny armour or a wrestler in a ring.
Penned 20/02/2016
In the early morning
I skirred among the treetops,
a million sparks of water.
My wings lisped in the cool air.
I slid near the canyons of
green and black;
and yellows alarmed me.
Grateful for
my two big eyes that
made a gift of distance.
“Amaryllis One”
“Amaryllis One”
Cheph 111 reminicint.
The falcon yerd lady screamed at MarYlin please set this thing down in one
pieces she screamed and screamed the engines were hauling the fuel the
concentrated alabaster into sections of fits and false starts. The other member of
this crew the charlaxandriodone was nerves too he seldom could contain his
excitement and he too screamed are you Crazxy MarYlin please. She lisped in a
bad b movie accent the ship will not respond to the autopilot i'm doing the best
eye can to set us down there is a highway its checked on the map im heading
strait for it now. WHERE is the falcon lady now she screamed and screamed for
it seemed that the “Amaryllis One” was crashing down into the desert sun.
Relax gentile reader there is more installments of this new saga reminicint to be
continue
Through the street, bellows spill its music
accompanied with voice.
Brooks heart enjoying the beauty,
when the full moon comes.
Mother rain donate her love-blood,
green leaves become new life.
Clouds shed their shy,
while hug of rainbow colors.
This scenery hold together, till..
hang by a thread.. her incomplete song.
I beg your mercy heart.
my bowels are empty..
Some shut down their doors.
pooh!pooh! here is nothing, say somebody.
She wear the rag silk garment,
remind old stage actors, as her makeup.
Her scar water eyes,
tell lose her pathetic stories.
Her lips lisped where love is?
again, the bellows tuned, the song fades away!