In the liveliest REM stage of his night
Bert beholds an unusual sight.
A troupe of pink elephants sound a trumpet blast
Then stomp united towards the grass.
On the other side, a team of tall strong guys
March to the pitch with focussed eyes.
"I'll be the goalie!' Dan told Bert.
'I'm least likely to get hurt."
Bert referees. His reminder the same,
"The joy's in the play, not winning the game."
At half time, a call is heard from Phil.
"How have the elephants scored two nil?
It's not right. It makes no sense...
Football's not for elephants!"
The guys huddle up and devise a plan
To catch as many mice as they can.
When the teams take position on the green
A commotion begins. A chaotic scene!
The elephants pale to white as a goose
When all the mice have been let loose.
The guys score goals before the mice disappear
The elephants play on, when free from fear.
Bert awakens amazed and confused.
He starts to laugh, feeling quite amused.
He answers the question written on Suzanne's face.
He fills her in on the match that took place.
Categories:
liveliest, dream, football, funny,
Form: Couplet
To Atbin.
Another flick, a spark,
Once more awakened the past
Illustrating memories
Are alive and always last.
I recall your visage with
Its veins, its charm, and grace
Some invisible griefs,
Behind of that bony face.
Your tender artistic look,
At a silly Rubik’s parts,
Made your endless affection,
dwell in our empty hearts.
You were our J. Keating of
Weir’s ingenious mind
And that "Remembrance Fest"
That you held: one of a kind.
To our liveliest friend,
We had toasted, and cheered
But I saw a bloody band
On your thin wrist appeared.
You smoked and you spoke,
With your own personal tone:
"A dead soul would never need,
All of these; to be well known,
Look at the living, hey kiddo!
And cherish their real worth.”
I stared at the white band:
Accessible, open source…
I thought it should be a band,
You could have tied it with care
Upon a pretty girl’s
Glowing and blonde hair.
Not as a merciless rope,
Tight around the skinny neck
But just like the sign of love,
Danced by the wind in a lake.
Hey, my friend! don’t frown,
Let me exactly define,
Not a regret for the dead,
But as an amity sign.
Categories:
liveliest, friend, friendship, grief, i
Form: Rhyme
She was the liveliest teenager at the disco ball hall.
Her mushroom head hat made her sixteen feet tall.
She shimmied and shook, and had a terrific time, a real ball.
We could barely get her peeled off a fellow named Wall.
Wall was frightened of her, she was all that and more.
What kind of teen is she? He asked a girl named Lenore.
She used to be my friend, but she has too many polka dots now.
The liveliest teenager with mushroom head hat, was still kind of a wow.
Categories:
liveliest, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Rhyme
Down in the valley of memories I go
searching for pieces of yesterdays past
looking for you and your eyes all aglow
down in the valley of grief fast in-toe
August remembers the flowers of May
September arrives and they all must go
mother I miss you your smile and u'r ray
August remembers, your liveliest day
Daughters are prone to exist at pure will
reaching for mothers and their special touch
you are in heaven, and I need you still
daughters are prone to love with- so much
Down in the valley of memories I go
looking for this and for that - yes I know
you went up to live in God's Holy lair
but I want you to know, that I care .
Categories:
liveliest, mother,
Form: Quatrain
Her glory dance uninhibited
She, the liveliest of the twelves.
Created her own music,
Wowing the rest of us.
All wanting to be
So much like her
Some forgot
To be
Self
Categories:
liveliest, 6th grade, 7th grade,
Form: Nonet
"The pen is mightier than the sword"
- In general, I guess that's true
But mine's a lazy blighter;
It treats sloth as a bloody virtue
It's not the liveliest of beasts
It's always at a halt
It likes staring at blank paper
As though that's the thing at fault
It lives a charmed sedentary life
Full speed is torpidly inert
It charges around at the pace of a slug
When flat out and alert
My pen possesses zero 'nift' -
I can't fault it for being too nifty
Its' sweet repose is a full-on doze
It thinks saving ink is thrifty
It's scintillatingly steady
So passively at peace
Unchanging in its' inactivity
Like a grazing wildebeest
So languid and so supine
As it munches on my thought
Remaining ever restful
Seeing hibernation as a sport
It's frustratingly calm and fixed
To the point of being plain dull
And that's when it's being lively
It's worse still, when in a lull
But now and then I drag it
Out of its' latent, dormant air
Force it to get some exercise
And treat my thoughts with care
Often it’s quite useless
It's rare for the spark to light -
But when thought and pen work as one
Well, that's the time I write
Categories:
liveliest, writing,
Form: Rhyme