Camilla Parker-Bowles:
King Charles' queen is her new life-role.
Someone once said she looks like a crawdad,
but when she was younger, she looked not half-bad!
Camilla Parker-Bowles
was Charles' mistress, as everyone knows,
they called her a tart and an ugly old cow,
but now she's the queen they all curtsy and bow.
LOL, posted too late for Tania's clerihew contest
I'm riding and flying into dimensions beyond the 3rd,
Sweet melodies and harmonies of rhythmic words.
They speak melodiously and deeply to my soul.
I'm riding and flying; I'm losing control.
No seatbelt to buckle into or even think of,
But I'm safe and feeling free, flying like a dove.
Above all pain 'cause Trane, Bird, and Hawk are soulfully saxing,
Sweet, harmonious melodies got me chillaxing.
Free! I'm so free,
And my mind's eye can see.
And my heart can feel,
I'm riding and flying into a peaceful surreal.
5
MJ DiBenedetto and CS Parker
Today is a gift
It could help me shift
From feeling sad wishing
Things could have been different, uplifting
The truth is thin for me
Maybe for you too
To uplift my spirits
And thank my higher power
For giving me each hour
To love my life and begin again
To make the best of what I’ve been given
Each day to relax, interact, connect,
To live, love and learn
All past mistakes to accept
And move on without regrets
6
Just want someone
To hold at night
Someone I can love
With my whole life
She won’t appear
As a stranger to me
In her I can see
A natural beauty
Can’t let her go around
Too scared of the dark
I’ll do my part
And hold her hand and
Kiss her slow
+ be her man
I cannot look you in the voice
Neither be thee my scent of choice
Cannot avoid thee in my sleep
Like a Rolls followed by a Jeep
I bow to you with a rose in my hand
and hope you press it between love's pages
I will not assume nor will I demand
I'll promise to love you through the ages
hear my heartbeat when it speaks to you, love
it will give you all of your heart's desire
with love no more than what we can dream of
through all the days and nights that we acquire
Look into my eyes and you'll see passion
The kind that stays faithful and burns always
Our love will never go out of fashion
For it's built on trust and respect's slow blaze
Accept this rose and pin it on your dress
Let its sweet fragrance tantalize your dreams
Holding hands together, let us progress
to a future filled with love's bright sunbeams.
Form: Rhyme (10 syllables)
30th March 2023
None of the names are familiar now
I have been in this class before
But my memory is weak
There are no Susie’s or Jack’s
The names are Donovan, Maleficent, Alfred, Drago,
Chole, Elise, Drake, and Athena.
I usually can associate names with others I know with that name.
I know no others with these names.
I call these students “honey” and “sweetie pie”.
Glad they are in preschool, and they do not mind.
I stopped one little girl and asked, “Is Parker a girl or a boy?”
“I am a girl, Silly.”
words 93
Dorothy (nee Rothchild )Parker once for poetically famed
for penning quatrains much acclaimed
With humour she did animate
& formally elegant poetry thereby create
The house is quiet,
as Knothead’s asleep
Hershey Kisses in place
on the staircase to reap
There’s snow on the roof,
with the chimney unblocked
For Santa to enter,
new soot on his frock
The cookies and milk
on the hearth reappear
With Rudolph’s one favorite,
chocolate chip to endear
The sound of his footsteps
arrive on the roof
As Knothead awakens
to Santa’s reproof
“Get into the sleigh
as I’ve told you before
“TC and Melissa
deserve so much more
“Your mischievous wandering
has caused quite the stir
“Mrs. Claus is upset,
the good Elves much deterred
“And clean up your mess
before we move on
“Those wrappers a danger
to those woe begone”
But as they departed,
the naughty Elf smiled
Two silver reminders
ensconced to beguile
Both hidden in cupboards
for children to find
Christmas 2021
—to forever remind
(Christmas Poem: 12/24/2021)
Backstory: Knothead is the naughty Elf who has plagued the Behm household for over 40 years at Christmas time. To catch him, you need to put out Hershey Kisses, so that Santa can follow the trail of wrappers, capture him, and take him back to the North Pole.
Let’s do it again PaPa Jerry
I want to fly clear up to the sun
Higher; it’s just a little scary
Cause swinging with you is so much fun
Round and round is how it’s s’pose to go
Sometimes it gets hard to keep it up
Hula-hoops are so much fun you know
but not for you because you’re grown up
I’m really tired PaPa Jerry
But I do not want to take a nap
my eyes are heavy and I’m weary
can’t I just lay down here on your lap
Not ready for our time to be through
I sure wish that somehow you could stay
Don’t you know just how much I miss you
Whenever you have to go away
8/2/2017
In this wondrous world, we are bound
to the silent realms of our poetic soul
Where white doves flutter and sighing words whisper
as dreams are dreamt with a heart's fervor
of unyielding desire which brightly burns
through the words of poetry
that capture the world's glorious glimmers
which slowly drip upon the page as poems
seeking a night's landscape
of wandering wishes beneath glittering stars
from a memory in fanciful flight
on the wings of perfection
where a sonnet shimmers in stardust bestrewn
as the moon serenaded fades into song
forgetting to rise and light dusky skies
lost in the magic of this intimate dark
as lips of a poet tingle the skin of a lyric
and brush with a breath thoughts soft as a flute
fantasy flies like fireflies from a jar
to drift to the depths of velvet horizons
reveries no longer long to be free
as the muse charms a pulse from the page
It's there in my heart's timeless space
I hear the poems of your soul
3/16/21
Thank You...Dear Friend, Dear Poet
The baby cried, but the wailing was a soothing
Jazz melody in E flat, a sound associated with
that baby for thirty-five years. A Bebopper,
a jazzer, a revolutionary, a Bird! He could
make you fly like no one else. But the scars,
the scars he received while crashing after flying
too high, higher than the birds should ever go.
Every breath was a sigh, a craving for what he
could be, if only…
The baby cried, this time the Bird flew without
any help, for that baby was his own. This time
the baby crashed for him, her life instead of
his, and his life depleted with every step
after that fateful day.
The baby cried, for a man with the Baroness.
For a man who hated hospitals and wouldn’t go.
For a man who finally played one last note
of good bye. For a man whose dying rocked the
masses, and the masses not believing a word. The baby
cried for the Bird, the legend, the man,
the Bebop sound, rolled into one.
Peter Parker loved Mary Jane
just a sucker for all her pain
thought they grow old to use a cane
life happens so he dreams again.
Now Peter Parker has to bend
all his hopes and be her friend
always offer his helping hand
from the start and till the end.
He asked himself if this was fair
cause in his heart he can't tend to bare
all that hurt... he still seems to care
cause he is aware that she is rare.
Now Peter has to let Mary go
Even if this hits him low
while time heals all wounds slow
Peter Knows soon the light will show.
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