SNAIL MAIL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Young Stu, with his shell brown and bold,
From the forest post office, he slowly strolled.
With letters packed on his back galore,
With slime as his tires, he slowly went to each door,
"Your snail mail's arrived!" he extolled.
“You fool! Haven’t you heard of email?” badger exclaimed
“Of all your slowness, you should be ashamed.
“With the click of a mouse
You no longer deliver from house to house.”
“But, but…I’ll lose my job,” Stu proclaimed.
“Oh, Stu, you’re so uninformed, so old school.
Your skill set you must totally retool!
Have you not heard of UPS or perhaps FedEx?
You can deliver packages and other objects!
“But snails don’t drive. You’re such a fool!”
“Besides, I’m looking forward to my postal pension
Not to mention days without strife and tension.
And all those Forever Stamps I’ve amassed
I’ll sell online or on my webcast.
Then with Musk I’ll travel to space, otherworldly dimensions.”
"A kiss is magical because it touches the heart." Quote By Poet
The silent kiss can touch your heart,
a heart that is very far apart.
I kissed your letters then licked the glue,
as I sent all my love to you.
Red lips went flying through the mail,
with a perfume spray friend never stale.
You are living so far away,
will you get my lips and perfume mail today?
Hope you can read what I want to say,
I am sending a big laugh your way.
Being away from a love one is hard,
miss talking with only reading a card.
Days feeling like you are not in your prime,
but you must go on until the next time.
Loving calls ending with the silent kiss,
how do I say you are the one I do miss?
Touching this postal stamp shaped just like a sponge
How many more of these stamps would be launched
The beautiful colors and the humor of animation
Cheering up a heart through this line of communication
The hues being used could moisten the stamp
Cute little stamps to use by those in summer camp
It has to be an honor to be featured on a stamp by USPS
SpongeBob swimming through the post office is the best
Another hallowed arrow from his quivers
One of cricket’s greatest shiver givers
Coursing down your spine like rivers
Fine line..never dithers as slivers
Of adversaries hopes on the ropes..withers
Tipples tickle our livers
The latest tropes of how
Somehow…anyhow won’t kowtow
Postman Pat delivers
Matinee idol looks tease
Record books hooks please
Finds batters crannies &
Nooks with such ease
Impeccable length…metronomic
Chin music chagrin
Such strength..astronomic
Gift of getting the ball to lift
Chronic bounce…hedonic
With his swag bag of quicks tricks
Name on the adored hall of fame
Lords boards with six..another Cummins elite fix
Beat Bob Willis’s record tome of the best
Test figures for a captain at cricket’s home..
Yep..yet another done like a kipper
By this chipper ripper skipper
Who’s not found wanting
His chiselled jaw..up there for sure
With the mean hardcore
Ponting or Waugh
As the best Test baggie green
Top draw Captain (not woke...just a better bloke) seen on screen
Or that’s maybe ever been
Will pens
(I'd have to think
when last I dipped mine in ink)
and sad to say
pencils go
the dodo's way
become extinct or obsolete
(oh no)
to the average man in the street
as if it weren't for junk mail
no matter how large or small
never mind trees and ecology
wouldn't have no mail at all
when I was young still a nipper
a lot more lively
hale hearty and chipper
had pen pals galore
now they're e-pals
it's done with thumbs
some folks use keystrokes
and I'm not sure
if anyone
writes letters anymore
In the mailbox sat
This valentine of mine,
With no return address
No name did they sign
Like my mind at the time
The little card was blank,
Who left it for me to find
… Just who do I thank?
Maybe it is best this way
Not knowing who it was,
Just another kind heart
Who put it there because
It was February 14th, after all
And the snow was falling fine,
When in the mailbox sat
This valentine of mine …
the mailbox is one hundred feet uphill
we know the mail has been delivered today
there is a buzzer that tells us
It went off two hours ago
Neither one of us wants to make the walk
it is seventy-two degrees in Kansas City today
a pretty, perfect lightly-breezy day
I reluctantly push myself off of my chair
taking one step at a time, using my walker
my dogs are huge hundred pound pony dogs
they will give chase
using me as a maypole
if they knock me down and I break a hip
it is all over
I am as good as a horse with a broken leg
So romantic love letters mailed
Now enchanted by the perfume smell
Amethyst art on cherry blossom card
Indigo ink drawing poetic little hearts
Lavender love language shines like star
Melodic moods within winged words
Arresting my heart soon as heard
I’m hanging on each silver sound
Living for love wherever it’s found
The van idles: inside its cage
she hops like a starling
from dashboard to counter.
Lady seer, shuffling the motley,
the significant and trivia.
revealing now, the stamped
and foreseeable.
A flick of her wrists
between each numbered box -
we open that tin mouth,
reach in hesitantly, for bolts out of the blue,
or just news from predicable snails.
Tear by on a Friday
Doing 75 down Sharon Road
Short cut up north through the federal woods
Back here
No one knows from US-127
About the clear-cutting as far as the eye can see
Or the heads of hills chopped off and rolling
And curves of road that’ve lost their will
To bend
A mailbox shakes in my scissor wake
With no house or driveway
Making claim of it
Hangs
On to the side of the road
Choked with scrolls of yellowed paper
Its little red arm
Up
Flailing
In my rearview mirror.
Old school painted barns
some used for advertising
some owners treasure
There once was a girl named Mona
Who screened all her calls on her phone-a
She said, "At the tone
Make yourself known"
Or she'll think that you're full of bologna!
always a good day
empty mailbox means no bills
short day for mailman
I am in college at this time
Learning from Soto’s Socrates mind
Bet as a babe he was divine
Babbling away peach poetic line
Many poetry soupers on a loop teach
Who is cooler than Empress of Ink?
It’s not a competition it’s a dream team
Winged word like bird that fly me eternally
There is soup mail from Mystic Rose Rose
Sharing her peace and heart of gold
Her lines are deepest kind of prose
Find a lime vine she will help you grow
Green vine of kindness sent to me
Lin Lane poet who is unique discreet
Gifting orange critique a line or two
Fine tuning my yellow maroon haiku
So many professors can’t name you all
Like Silent One who heeds the call
To be hazel humble while his verses are tall
And echo in time so deep and all
Bill Baker who reads so much with love
Sara Baker Haiku Queen to whom I look up
Eve with images of blue so cool
But my favorite purple poet is not me but YOU.
verification to send soup mail is a pain in the tush ~ forsooth
counting fire hydrants, busses, bridges and bikes ~ no one in P S likes
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