Long Pretty as a picture Poems
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Oh Valentine, Oh Valentine,
Please won’t you be my Valentine,
I love you oh so very much,
I always hunger for your touch
I think about you all the time,
I know that one day you’ll be mine,
Friends say, you're pretty as a picture,
Of Greek and English you're a mixture,
I want to ask you to marry me,
To understand what you mean to me,
You are my everlasting destiny,
And bring me to the brink of ecstasy,
We’ll build a love nest in a tree,
Like the birds we’ll fly so free,
We’ll have one girl and a little boy,
Who’ll bring us so much fun and joy,
So Valentine, my Valentine,
Please be my own dear Valentine.
It's April twenty-fifth and it's still snowing,
Lightly raining down upon the town.
Pretty as a picture, wind is blowing,
Melting quickly as it hits the ground.
The streets awash in slush it wets my shoes,
So rubber boots are needed to transgress,
The puddles 'long the street where once there grew,
Small flowers 'fore the winter put to rest.
It's the last snow of the year and cold and wet.
Jack Frost has packed his bags and finally left,
But there's a chill still left behind lest we forget,
That he'll be back again a lingering guest.
For now we're looking forward to the summer,
Days of picnics, barbecues and summer sun.
We'll forget when minus ten seemed a bit warmer,
As we frolic in the sunshine having fun.
Normal people come in packs of six
Some are born in cardboard boxes
In suburbs, in summer, in campers
In the middle of the middle night
In middle class somewhere on a train
Between clicks and clacks on railroad tracks
Rich people shower frequently in power
In God we trust the upper crust to play
Normal people want mobility Up
To supper in good company
To be pretty as a picture on the beach
To frolic in the waves of milk and honey
With apologies to Jesus people sing
Sometimes flat or in harmony
Sometimes in black and white
In dance, in fire, using gravity
Normal people come in from the cold
Candy sweet and happy to be seen
Some come from baby factories
From across the street in greeting seasons
Middle class people love the poor
They love themselves much more
That is why babies are born
Subways are for pedestrians
With no class and in transition
Travelling from left to right
In nature train people are always in motion
Moving on is always right
The mundane remain the same
With Happy Hour and a six pack waiting
Somewhere down the line the land cracks open
It is another earthquake opened with a smile
She’s the colour in a rainbow
The sun breaking through a cloud
As tasty as the best Bordeaux
You’re the stand out in a crowd
She’s the topping on a cupcake
The light from the brightest star
As pretty as a picture
You’re the one who has my heart
She’s a model in the making
The raindrop on a flower
As alluring as a mermaid
You’re a woman of my dreams
She’s like honey from a bee
The sweetest of the sweet
As delicate as a butterfly
You’re a moonbeam reflecting off the sea
She’s an actress on the tele
The woman’s got it all
As famous as the Mona Lisa
You’re my imaginary fling
The dark spill muddied my canvas:
Made its mess, dislocated light
And thoughtful lines to the edges
While it claimed the center for spite.
It seemed like all was wrecked.
The time I'd worked nightly
To craft something perfect
(Or at least not unsightly)
Laid to waist.
A vision erased.
But then, I spied a photo of the original.
I thought it would be pretty, as a picture.
Instead, I noticed flaws so visible
They would lead a critic to stricture.
It looked off-colored or drab in places.
Contrived and technically bad.
Downright mediocre and graceless.
My memory of the thing had
Rendered more precious and dear
The plainness this new light made clear.
An impression most unimpressive.
The thing once grieved not worth its mourning.
No longer the crafter obsessive
Or wracked with yearning.
What a stroke of luck!
Now on to scrape the surface
Or from a new layer construct
An entirely new interface.
The choice entirely my own
Blank space for the unknown…
With no room left for you.
O, I love the word "beautiful" and I use it all the time. It is my favorite word
by far and quite versatile too. I use it to describe things that take my breath
away. So, here is a short list of some of the things and feelings I use it for:
Alluring, and all of this thing we call Earth
Bewildering, brilliant, beguiling, butterflies, bees, bird songs
Charming, clouds sailing across the sky
Delightful, divine, dreaming silent verses, dew
Exquisite, enchanting, elegant, entwined and ethereal
Fair as a rose, fluttering wings, foggy scenes, flowers in bloom
Gorgeous, graceful, galloping horses
Heavenly, hair flowing like a river, hushed evenings
In the shadow of nature, in dreams, in poetry, infinite blue skies
Just letting my words fall on white
Keeping memories locked in my heart
Lovely days, love to behold, laughter like music, leaves falling, life
Magnificent, my kitty cat, my garden, mornings, mother and father
Nothing is more joyful, gleeful than happiness
Oh, an azure sky in summer, ocean breezes caressing
Pretty as a picture, promises like delicate flowers
Quiet, quiet forests, quiet peaceful mind, quiet contemplation
Radiant, resplendent, ravishing, raindrops and drips, rivers flowing
Stunning, sublime, shades of time, soft snow falling, stars
Totally fanciful things that take my breath away, sea shells
Utterly blissful feelings, under the summer sun, uncharted paths
Vast open spaces, velvet dark nights
Winsome, wonderful, words that weep, waves crashing on shore
XOXO and Xmas (like kisses, hugs and Christmas)
Yin and yang, yoga, yesteryear yore
Zephyr winds and zigzag zebras leaping
___________________________________
August 17, 2019
Poetry/List/Beautiful
Copyright Protected, ID 1173-868-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Favorite Word
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke
First Place
Defined By Idioms
Naked truth, bent nails
dead men tell no tales
bad Apple, broken mirrors
burnt out light bulbs, crocodile tears
spilt milk, goose chase
two cents worth, rat race
rotten egg, bad to the bone
eagle eye, no place like home.
bat from hell,
pulled punch
big cheese,
no free lunch
can of worms, bleeding heart
knock on wood,
till death do us part
bite the bullet, checkered past
good as gold,
last laugh
burning bridges,
ball of wax
hold your horses start from scratch
wooden nickels ace up your sleeve
hair of the dog
all Greek to me
axe to grind
behind the eight ball
bigger they are
the harder they fall
jack of all trades cat's got your tongue
fair weathered friend
like father like son
small world
on thin ice
speak of the Devil roll of the dice
blood's thicker than water
lie like a rug
dime a dozen
when push comes to shove
dog eared pages
eye for an eye
bury the hatchet how time flies clean as a whistle C
chew the fat
crime doesn't pay. cover my ass
throw me under the bus gentle as a lamb
cold shoulder
hit the fan
buyer beware
woman's work never done
never say never
takes one to know one
come Hell or high water
pissing in the wind
pretty as a picture through thick and thin
beat a dead horse pass the buck
whole nine yards down on my luck
life’s a
don't rock boat
needless to say
go for broke
My life is the sum of trite cliches
Jaded expressions
so worthless so worn
I couldn't give it away
Flirting With Death, Gods And Devils
Blonde, blue eyes, tall and slim
Pretty as a picture without the wings
They go by the old names; “Lucifer’s minions”
Fellow demons on the Earth
Flirting with the boys and girls
Today, in black suits, they pray in church
Prey afterwards on lost souls
Found in corporations
They win the hearts of everyone with a wink
Gentlemen under the skin with hidden sin
As the gods they are
Never have to go too far from heaven
Gods and devils are the same
They simply operate under assumed names
We are their armies in training
Flirting with death
Is a dangerous undertaking
Created on 1/19/15 for - “Gods and Devils” – Poetry Contest
In another frame of mind on the horizon built of art
Stationed on the high plateau still rising with the sun
In a cedar home, cathedral ceilings incomplete of features
Massive crystal windows installed to take advantage of the light
Modern art mixed with ancient masters hang themselves
On plastered walls not quite ready for a conversation
As the mind goes deeper into contemplation of the sight
Thoughts about it all stretch out in pastel ingenuity
Overlooking all this excitement
The endless ocean with rogue waves steps in the mix
Fifty foot high rolling monsters crash over to oblivion
Crash against the rocks below the home under construction
Diving back into themselves on tides as if they were alive
Controlled by no one with the wind as they collide
Sun light is the only witness and perhaps the little man
Inside the house, inside his mind, as pretty as a picture
With nothing else
An English Rose
My english rose a flower so devine.
Gods inspiration sent down from up high
only ever matched when pretty girls smile
Pretty as a picture, precious, sublime
natures picture, perfect mona lisa
My english rose a flower so devine
Silk flowers who's aroma is sublime
whos petals capture english summer time
only ever matched when pretty girls smile
The classic symbol of love undying
even the most beautiful girl would prize
My english rose a flower so devine
A flower treasured by our kings and queens
a rose can say sweetest things,i love you
only ever matched when pretty girls smile
the english rose inspires loves true desire
summers english rose true flower power
My english rose a flower so devine
only ever matched when pretty girls smile
Villanelle Me A Flower or Flowers - Poetry Contest
contest entry 09062016