The heat is overwhelming here,
So we’ve been trapped inside,
Except for walking to the car,
Where cool air does preside.
With time to kill, my husband found
Old movies on TV,
Some Groucho films without his sibs,
Not known to him or me.
We still found him hilarious,
A genius at his craft.
I’d be suspicious of a soul
Who watched and never laughed.
The film that followed had the other
Brothers, which just means
More chances to crack up
In many other crazy scenes.
Though people go to Florida
To loll around a beach,
I’m glad, when weather’s Venus-like,
These films are in our reach.
cowboy can faultlessly eye cauldron of brandy
but carbocyclic camphorweed forgotten
his youthful kith unquietly loll in Kursk
to guard nefarious nightshade
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 13–19, 2026)
Time speeds away, ages added on to eons,
Piling changes on change, it moves on,
Seldom posing lull and loll.
With the current rushing swift and fleet,
We race past from old to new
From times primeval to times neoteric
Watching the ceaseless chain of births and deaths,
Tasting life’s vicissitudes of joy and pain.
In the unwinding circuit of time
How long is my sojourn here?
60, 70 or 100- that’s a man’s average longevity,
Does it mean more than a mere drop in the ocean?
Like the bubbling foam or the dying froth,
We appear uninvited and depart unnoticed,
Leaving no foot prints or monuments behind.
Between the rows of forefathers who exited out
And the countless progeny lining up,
I have squeezed a space to be a face in the multitude.
Does my longevity mean much?
No..! All that counts is how well I have lived here.
I woke up the owls time,in the lurid lighting of moon
Pendulous stars and the cloud of maroon
A lady with a viol croon; dances the nox
Odours of opiate from the nearing phlox
Smelt by the lethe;quaffed the nectar
Time within time,how can you alter?
Trottoir we walked to the willow garden
No more fonder merely it's nature-harden
Startled at the stillness of swinging rope
Once we wont to loll and part our hope
Yore the songs of thrushes and harebell; dreary
Scarcely I felt,I ever felt your clench so weary
Sullen brae upon the droughty day
I pass over,over the mountain way
The comply of yours was a good resting tavern-
Then of me,now merely the voided cavern
Day within day,how can you be so far?
I see you in the silvern Luna with a fare star
I woke up the owls time,in the drizzle of summers June
Dances the nox; a lady with a bassoon
Half past Summer, two months till Fall
A Monet image, relishing!
Brisk sienna steppingstones sprawl
Half past Summer, two months till Fall
Whiffs of earthy cinnabar loll
Gold aspens strewn embellishing
Half past Summer, two months till Fall
A Monet image, relishing!
The Valley of the Forbidden
Sat under an oak in the valley of the naked woman
admiring her rounded breasts, a malevolent oak
took offence, not that I minded, after all, it had been
at the same spot for a hundred years, long before the valley had a name.
Suddenly, the tree slapped me
a leathery branch
Oh, pain makes me strong
I forgave the oak and
thought of the pope who, every Thursday evening
flagellated himself, in remembrance
of the day
When he was training for the priesthood, he nearly lost
His manhood to the cleaning lady
The Valley of the Naked Woman has a hidden fountain
is guarded by thorny thistles and impotent apple trees
Those who have drunk her loveliness will never be
sane again, loll in the sunlight of lost ambition
The wicked eye of the oak kept glaring when I hugged
An olive tree, the oak knew I was a lover of the ethical.
Laying in the cool breeze
Drying the sweat on my face
Chilling my skin feeling refreshed
The light touch of God
The unknown rhythm of the wind
Memories of people and places
Flag waving back and forth
Remembering what it means to me
Hair moving with the breeze
Helping to loll me to sleep
Carrying happy dreams
Into the Universe
A squirrel got into the homestead,
it picked a lock with a dry thorn.
The smell of dank fur clung.
We carried small talk above our heads.
Nothing put away but still dangles.
Denim droops, snagging
the arms of rumpled shadows,
fusty jeans gander and loll.
Calico and cotton are rescued
the soggy separated
from the mildewed.
Soon front steps will be scoured,
tails and collars made to flap
while medium-sized back-yard critters
flounce and fluff.
If a blotting wind returns,
the squirrel will bail with a flick of its tail,
we will wash bathtubs,
fully clothed with yesterday's suds.
a way to call a greater sky
into a drinking bowl
a way to call
while staying
inside
the odor of this
world eat world reality
your creature self
will sniff out
the scent
of an ungroomed holiness
turn the prayer on its back
expose belly
wriggle
where your tail
spins like a prayer wheel
lost bones will return
still rich with marrow
offer licks and loll
lollygag for a while
then
when you see
your original face
shining
behind the moon
yowl with gratitude
Oh my soul!
Remember you are the living in my body
Why are you so moody?
Be Merry!
Always be glad!
Ponder on the journey you've passed so far
Why did way wave the whole?
Why rake raked the reader?
When men made their max might.
Listen oh my soul!
To the cry of your struggle from the pet
Don’t follow the plan of middle to lost
Be courageous!
Always endure!
Remember your vision to grow despite the foes
You are the pole, prop my proud
You are the sun, shine my sure
Even when the cloud falls apart for me.
Blessed are you my soul
None other like you from the Lord
Wake my inspiration to create a new form
Loll!
Oh be brave!
Don’t delay to lunch your nobleness
The date will drive the day out
The method will make the man main
Even though situation is not ready to suite.
Millie our three-year-old
With tears that rolled
Down her pink little cheeks
As she looks around and peeks
Under her dolls bed
And under its bedspread.
I went out to see what was wrong,
It was going on too long.
"Mommy, I cannot find my doll.
I had her wrap in her shawl
And laid her here in her bed."
I look up our yorkie has fled
Into the house to his bed.
There under his chin laid the doll.
"No. No Loll. It’s not your doll."
Cats-dogs fight - is a common sight,
Each thinks: fighting is their birthright;
As though each exhibits their might,
Or trust in the code: might is right;
Fight is canine story...
Dogs don't harm cats, in real fact,
They throw a sound that seems half-cracked;
Cats maintain their harsh hiss, intact,
In fact, both seem to seal a pact;
Canines have their glory...
Predator dogs feel merriment,
Fleshy cats, to experiment;
Dogs stare, for cats, is worriment,
In them, is hidden, dark cerement;
Doesn't it seem gory...?
Who is great, truly, who is small?
In the house, where they, often, loll;
This query when grows very tall,
The killer instinct, in them, crawl;
This story is hoary...
When it is not tittle-tattle,
When it comes to real battle;
When both, in annoyance, rattle;
Both turn stronger than tough cattle;
Story turns vainglory...
23 March 2022
Pedro was a mouse
A mouse who didn't eat cheese
He would like to have a choice
Of anything he pleased
He was a Spanish mouse
You can tell that by his name
He liked all kinds of things
Not everything the same
He liked eating crumbs of bread
Found upon the floor
Sometimes he found a crumb of cake
And always looked for more
He was quite a greedy mouse
He lived in a mousey hole
He was also very lazy
In his chair, he loved to loll
In the house there also
Lived a cat
He was very skinny
And wearing a big hat
One day while out walking
And much to his surprise
The hat that was too large for him
Fell over this cat's eyes
The mouse was feeling hungry
And spied the skinny cat
The mousey licked his lips and said
I'd like a meal of that
The cat was now so blind
His hat covering his face
The mouse pounced on the cat
And ate him, every trace
The moral of this story
That cats usually eat mice
This mouse is very different
And ate this cat in a trice
It's not always the weakest
That succumb to the strong
This way of thinking
Can sometimes be proven wrong
This is a poem that was on Poetry Soup previously
Can you image an exploded hall
That retained every bombed wall?
A from–a–tree–top fall
That didn’t disfigure The Tall?
A loud pathetic yelp
That wasn’t a call for help?
Overnight, a murderer losing his skill
To brutishly kill?
Getting into a million dollar bet
While one wasn’t near set?
And can one presume a reign
That recorded no pain?
A man ruled a Veritable Sage
Who hadn’t come of age?
A powerful claim to a brain
One had failed to train?
A truly idiotic doll
That didn’t out the tongue loll?
There’s nothing on the inside
my wife’s been soren to call
Or something on the outside
my doctor’s warn to all
And never any insight
for lawyer’s claus to slaw’l
Or ever any vinedite
for honor’s cause to loll
I offer up to vine-light
my moral claws for all
and haven’t any sin light
for oral laws to call
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