LIGHT VERSE AND NONSENSE VERSE IX
Disconcerted
by Michael R. Burch
Meg, my sweet,
fresh as a daisy,
when I’m with you
my heart beats like crazy
& my future gets hazy ...
The Less-Than-Divine Results of My Prayers to be Saved from Televangelists
by Michael R. Burch
I’m old,
no longer bold,
just cold,
and (truth be told),
been bought and sold,
rolled
by the wolves and the lambs in the fold.
Who’s to be told
by this worn-out scold?
The complaint department is always on hold.
Alas, Sir Munchalot!
by Michael R. Burch
You ate too much,
your common lot;
you munched too much,
so now you’ve got
a gut.
Hadrian’s Elegy
by Michael R. Burch
My delicate soul,
now aimlessly fluttering ... drifting ... unwhole,
former consort of my failing corpse ...
Where are we going—from bad to worse?
From jail to a hearse?
Where do we wander now—fraught, pale and frail?
To hell?
To some place devoid of jests, mirth, happiness?
Is the joke on us?
Keywords/Tags: heart, humor, humorous, irony, light, light verse, nonsense, joke, truth, future, soul
A woodhacker rattles like wolf-jaws,
A dog's appetite has just died
There's blood in those graphite-green curtains
Duck Islanders howl of a homicide.
There's a murder of crows in The Three Trees,
Where the Sky's Ties are tethered away
The water's been kissed for the first time
And the sun's lips have no more to say.
But the Stormwood has hissed back to sleeping
Gunpowder Grove murmurs, 'match'
The Twig-Ink is scrawling black symbols
Like Maggie Pie scratched on our latch.
Grandad William keeled like a lever,
Dug his heels sprung the Wheels in Giant's Back
And the Red Cave began to make music
And the timber talked in Tumble-Down Shack.
It means that the summer is humming
Its footpeople wait on my hands
The Silkwitch is building a ladder
Rippling gold rungs through the grass.
When the light's right, like now, you can climb it
Through Horruary's cheek to the sun
Til the Fat-Ranch and chewing of winter
Are just gold stuff below
In the land of the How Far We've Come.
drunken toad by mistake proposed to a log,
he was intoxicated by fumes from the bog,
the log was quiet and remained unmoved,
“sorry, I apologise, If you think I am rude!”
Spit, Spot, Spick and Span,
Hit Haugh Hick with cane,
dirty dark drunken brawl,
was no need for it at all,
Police caught Spot and Span,
Spit and Spick ran as they can,
Haugh Hick’s wife saw them skip,
tackled them with a Karate kick,
Spit cut his lip while Spick hurt his ....
ambulance came to Haugh Hick pick!
in prison cell they were bundled in,
in remorse they rubbed their chin,
said Spit, Spot, Span and Spick
“Never take on a karate chick!!!”
Tongue twister poetry contest
Joe Sadler sponsored
Written 24/12/2020
He hatched from an egg, Froggy the cow,
He sometimes barked, or purred ‘meow’
On May 37, the month of Noctember
He tunnelled inside, and went into slumber