A middling pudding on the table
flies hover in the livery stable
Mud-covered boots ascend to garrets
frowzy days London inherits
Dickensian scenes to rive your heart
by urchins, street vendors torn apart
Yankees delight in their ‘good old days’
Englishmen sniff the rot of decay
Like an Axe Used To Split Kindling for Fire
Like an axe used to split kindling for fire,
Her beauty repeatedly strikes at my heart,
Encouraging sparks of desire that inspire
Me to bravely approach her without swagger.
I, in livery, and she, robed in fine cloth,
Comport in accord with that which is proper;
Express youthful, sentimental, foolish tropes,
Indulged in cautiously during our rapport.
Blustery adaptations amuse our spirits
At her pleasure, confident in my prescience.
We play charades insouciantly within limits,
Aware of time and place and our adolescence.
Music warms the heart’s revival of remembrance;
Our minds exploit these encounters with exuberance.
It seems easier
when you're tired,
to just let things be.
Last night's savage wind
that threw a leaf loaded fury
at my bedroom window
has become a quieted still
unburdened by thought.
The morning with its bright
colours, fragrant air and sunlit
distances has emerged as is,
sufficient and complete.
I see the first butterfly
of the season in its pristine
livery shine copper
on a new green leaf.
Magnolia flowers are about
to burst from their swollen
sheaths and be set free.
I watch where I walk
taking care
to let things be.
Thomas Hobson (1544 –1631)
in 19th century late
a Cambridge ostler and postal carrier
set his priorities straight
he owned a livery stable
of 40 Hackney horses or more
plus boots bridles and whips
and put the horse the cart before
after the animal left the barn
by bolting fast the door
and as precautionary balm
the nag nearest the stable gate
the worn-out equine storm to calm
was the firm rule he did make
this one or none in the stall
was that which customers had to take
or do with no ride at all
but for the paying equestrians
either way they win or lose
as there was no choice but accept or reject
for any of them to choose
I suppise its been coming, yet its a sad day to see, Rupert
Lowe, has been shopped; on some discrepacy? I have no more
To put here.' I shall wait as must all..Yet a black flag it is
Apparant is now farages livery.' Let This be a lesson on
Not how to fall.'
A band of comrades rather strange I think you will agree
This oddball bunch together shared a commonality…
The panda didn’t pander to the niceties of style
He wore his usual coat which he had done for quite some while
The zebra was a Libra with an eye for what’s in fashion
She loved the skin she’s swaddled in and flaunted it with passion
The badger was a cadger but he didn’t want your suit
He’ll cadge your lunch but he’s content with being so hirsute
The puffin felt like nuffin with his massive beaky nose
But still he kept his chin up for he rather liked his clothes
The magpie wouldn’t lie although he was prepared to steal
His virtues might be fake but his apparel very real
The Penguin was depending on a chance to show his class
His haute couture was something that was absolute top brass
The skunk just stunk, not all the time, but when occasion rose
His looks were good but he was quite offensive to the nose
The orca wasn’t happy to be so far from the sea
Though he was quite a corker in his shiny livery…
So when they met the parrot they tried not to put him down
But one of them just had to say… “Did you come as a clown?”
With mid- October, summer heat has come to an interim close.
A sweet sensation creeps into every sinew as coolness pervades the air.
Autumn wind, shaking the withering leaves, whistles, and blows.
Trees once clad in green livery are stripped off and made bare.
Now, the sun’s golden beams, a pallid shade resentfully wear.
Summer is the season that brings forth buds and blooms,
When every hill and vale in green livery, clad,
When the busy bee around opening flower zooms,
And stray clouds in the blue-sky roam so glad.
It is the time when grasshoppers vault on silky grass,
When every blade and leaf at dawn sparkles with dew,
When black ants move with tiny carcasses en masse,
And ladybirds dance in frocks of black and red hue.
When on breezy evenings children set out to play,
And men go for angling in babbling brooks.
When farmers after the harvest dry their hay.
And sunbeams weave patterns even in forest nooks.
But summertime pleasantly cool in the evenings can turn,
Sultry at noon when lacerating rays come down to burn!
"Mythical creatures arise in a labyrinth flight round a cloisters,
a crown of flowers and berries they wear in fairyland." Quote by Poet
Stars shiver in the laden cold with the moon's sight.
Autumn's chill sigh emotion thrown across the night.
The elves, faeries, centaurs, and minotaur physicality
in merry enchanting dance in the inner labyrinth
among the comfort the open courtyard invisibility.
Untold mythical young too; no mundane eyes could see.
Winged Faeries spin~dance holding an olive branch.
Dragons menacing roar with crackling fire of thunder
weaving between the clouds to catch the air above;
under a blanket sky, whirling in shadows of purple.
Magical serpentine fierce in all their mystic wonder,
incandesce scales in brilliant metallic shine livery,
to its subtle benevolence manner, bold chivalry.
3/17/2023
Writing Challenge - 'M' Words - Poetry Contest 7. mythical
Sponsored by: Constance La France
All the time smelling of musk,
On a road willing to busk,
Now an Elephant with tusk,
Ready to hang on till dusk,
But the songs sung Empty Husk...
Third World Poor Entertainer
For footwear Red cortina...
An ironic misery,
Where a Brown owns livery
And lives in a plain luxury;
To his girlfriends ivory
And newest catch Burberry
Catch who tells men "No story!"
Always show women "Glory"...
A scene one meets in Third World:
Fewer chosen from few called;
Hungry struggling poor talent
Obeying not The Salient.
The Year: Long Squandered 1999;
Frank Flynn had found my sent parceled poems ‘fine’
“They can lend themselves... to live performance”
Wherefore I mount for each surveillance….
An Atypical BBC Staff:
His signed statement A frankness not by half;
Laminated have I his bold comment:
Above My First Degree ‘A Document.’
Saw Frank, too, in My Enclosed Verses
‘ Originality of Rhythm’
Then, whoever, their action rehearses
Hasn’t The Spurious got to fathom.
And Frank had marked their “freshness of vision”
I began to crave their prompt diffusion…
Owe I Frank self-rediscovery:
A focus sidelining livery;
Strong reasons to start idolizing self
And speedily start assembling A Shelf…
The Last I should crucify of The Crew;
If he were still alive The Safest Jew.’
With a fresh cup of coffee, I stepped outside to have a peek.
It was another peaceful morning, in the valley around Soup Creek.
I caught the glint of a Winchester, a model ninety-four.
It was across the lap of Jenna, just outside the saloon door.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Jan sneaking to the loo.
I could hear her spurs were jingling as she went to take a poo.
In the saloon I heard some laughter, it was Milt just having fun.
At a table dealing stud, a gamblers game is never done.
At the other end of the street, there stood Tania with watchful eyes.
With a pistol on each hip, she was ready for any surprise.
Down by the livery stable was a Texas ranger by the name of Dave.
He was looking for our mayor, who he thought was digging a grave.
There was a rumor of riders coming, and the Creek might be in a bind.
He searched both high and low, but sir Tom he could not find.
Ten miles south of town, with graves dug all around.
Tom had stopped these riders and saved our hallowed ground.
Start Sleuthing Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Natasha L Scragg
8/21/22
As time ticks away into twilight dusk
Sun in fathomless waters will plummet
The Earth will then wear an assassin’s mask
This in endless succession shall repeat
The grass in silken meadows will wither
Trees clad in green livery will go bare
Youth into infirmity will slither
Body, through years of rugged use will wear
Every beauteous form will lose its charm
All to death’s stygian vault shall return
Until then, lead life without any sham
A good name is all you can strive to earn
You are a dumb player in life’s pantomime
Act your part well until you're merged in Time
(10 syllables each in every line with a total of 140 syllables)
Placed First in the Contest
Sonnet's Salutation Poetry Contest
Sponsor- William Kekaula
earth proud livery
doves begin to coalesce
heaven unbinds rain
8/5/2021
By the river bank there dwells a King
In quiet repose, despite his bling
Resplendence though is his forte,
Ever donned in fine display.
Was e'er a bird as suave as he
Dressed in shimmering livery,
On his mind a little fish
A tasty morsel, oft his wish.
Then with a splash, in he goes
To surface in unruffled clothes
A feat of perfect co-ordination,
He shows his catch, in celebration.
Entry for
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (22)
Any form any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand.
6/10/2020
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.