It’s the time of the year for Oktoberfest,
The nip in the air, the leaves skittering about
A fall festival that rates among the year’s best.
Custom beers and homemade pretzels to test
While giving to German heritage a shout-out,
It’s the time of the year for Oktoberfest.
This year an accordion band will be the guest
Entertaining with polkas and customary shouts,
A fall festival that rates among the year’s best.
Plenty of toasts are offered with appropriate jest
There’ll be a “last man standing” boxing bout,
It’s the time of the year for Oktoberfest.
All the young children will be suitably dressed
In lederhosen and Janker, while eating their kraut
A fall festival that rates among the year’s best.
All the activities are characterized by their zest
Participants will have clean fun, without a doubt,
It’s the time of the year for Oktoberfest --
A fall festival that rates among the year’s best.
Written October 16, 2022
Write a Self-Help book
that works only for you.
Become one with the One,
or at least give it a try.
It doesn’t get any easier after you’re dead.
If you have a nasty personal problem
become an advocate for other losers'.
Take up the accordion,
play Polish polkas for your unwanted friends,
soon you will be free of them.
Frequent the offices
of fully untrained masseurs
happy endings almost assured.
Remember, there are no living
un-struggling poets,
so get a job.
There are ups and there are downs,
be sure to decide beforehand
how you want your eggs.
Remember no one else has a clue
where they’re going either.
Dance, dance, dance!
If you cannot,
then sit it out. No one cares.
Winter Dances
Winter dances in stately gavottes -
With children of wintry gardens -
A kiss of frost on their cheeks –
Remnants of summer twirl
Among bright berries
Where cardinals
And Snowbirds,
Grey wrens,
Sing!
In gusty wind storm tarantellas
Sparkling ice ribbons trim the steps -
Swirling breaths on the dance floor
Partners with sweet daphne
Where holly polkas
Light fantastics
With rhythmic
Wings in
Flight.
12-17-20
Contest: Double Nonet
Sponsor : William Kekaula
Catch Fall’s foliage Brasstown Bald —
Highest peak for colorful leaves.
Red squirrel’s cache of acorns, seeds,
pine cones, bird eggs in felled log sleeve.
Serve up Helen’s Oktoberfest
in Alpine Helen-White county
with brats and beer, cool weather dressed,
polkas and Ein Prosit bounty.
The down-home fun, my southern town,
relieved of heat, I hope for snow.
Meanwhile In Autumn hues, I drown,
warmed by an orange pumpkin’s glow.
9/13/2020
Brian Strand’s COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (8)
any form any theme Poetry Contest
I am just getting started
Wait a little bit
I have seen your blue iris
Do not forget
You promised me
We will go together
For the blue forest
And look for the beehive
In a moonlit night
It is fall in the air
Time to gather honey
For the coming chill days
And you know the thrill
Of collecting sweet polkas
Of wine-colored drops
Some people grow aversion
For the butterflies
To convert them into dry flowers
We two while in forest
Will bring out butterflies
While picking up honey
I am just getting started
Won't take much time
I know moon won't wait
You have shown me the beehive
Holding nectar of mundane life
We will taste it in moonlight
From a dream world
Will come out the boats and guitar
Toward the tunnel
That lead to the blue and green
Harvest from brimming trees
Hold your dreams on
Keep drawing the painting
Of orange fire
On the black canvas
I am just getting started
I do see the beehive
And the pink cups
September 21, 2019
I'm just getting started Poetry Contest
Sponsored by:John Hamilton
As I kept my raised eyes hooked to rivers
A shining swing of swords like the sliced moon
In polkas of blood a dark blue shiver
From red jungles comes up a meaty Hun
_____________________________________
September 15, 2019
Arbitrium Divisa 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Gregory R Barden
Source :My Sonnet “As I Took the Right Turn”
dated 27 June, 2019
As I took the right turn, lo, the crescent
Like Urdu letters but pink and silken
From two mountains meandering descent
Raw hues of hours dark and blue keep folding
As I kept my raised eyes hooked to rivers
A shining swing of swords like the sliced moon
In polkas of blood a dark blue shiver
From red jungles comes up a meaty Hun
Then all of a sudden the grudging sky
Came down in rains washing the whole vista
Chin on elbows, children, who danced so high
All flames went back in the gladiola
At the seafront mighty waters were sands
My face I held with ailing wrinkled hands
27 June 2019
DEAR DEER
Dear Deer, I love you.
the nice cute pretty creature,
as gift of Nature.
Your alluring appealing eyes
cast soft glance of my sweet heart.
Dear Deer, I admire.
Your hesitant frightened look,
sudden swift movement,
charming polkas and antlers,
feral beauty in forest.
Dear Deer, I enjoy
walking on non-mowed meadow
seeing flocks of deer-doe
grazing on pastoral field,
free on bucolic setting.
05/14/18
Edited on 10/12/20
'Completely Your Choice (25) by Brian Strand
.
My quaint little cottage
rests by a cool serene aqua
with rights reserved only
for my prettiest rosy bloom.
Her two little feet walk down-
wobbling like a penguin-
on the rain brushed green turf
to halt by the edge
of the soft rippling water.
She gurgles aloud
clapping her little hands
with bells on her wrists
for us to follow her trail.
Her echo I guess
is heard by the distant
mother duck busy flapping
for her ducklings to follow.
They stately glide
in a small neat file
under the chaste clouds
to meet their prattling mate.
The weeny webbed feet wobble
to my yakkity cherub
rompering around them
in her powder pink polkas.
Undisturbed comfort
runs in my veins as in unison
they peck at the grain
and bread I brought for each.
My heart melts to see the tranquility
between the twinned bird and babe
as they nibble in the summery spring
while I sit beside the balmy Jackson Lake.
April 5, 2016
Summertime memories of better days
Playing outside way past dark
Bungalo was the community pool
Church picnics at Dutch Hill Park
Sliding boards and old metal swings
A box for the little ones filled with sand
There were monkey bars and seesaws
A merry go round that we turned by hand
A pavilion full of picnic tables
Where neighbors sat together to eat
And the old beat up wooden dance hall
That gave little relief from the heat
Usually they had a polka band
Playing polkas, waltzes and rock n’ roll
Wooden floor jammed with people dancing
Those memories touch my soul
Sometimes we’d run down to the baseball field
Play ball until we were soaked in sweat
Or sneak down the woods when we got a chance
We’d all have a cigarette
Then we would walk back to the picnic
Get food at the concession stand
Carry it over to the dance hall
And listen to the band
The picnics lasted until late at night
Neighbors sat talking and having a good time
A hamburger was only twenty cents
And a beer was only a dime
Take me back to those innocent days
Where my memories still roam
To church picnics at Dutch Hill Park
Saints Peter and Paul and Saint Jerome.
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