ruffles frill up every kind of dress
add tulle and you have a real mess
fru fru and poufs bouncy and pink
as feminine as fox fur and mink
Hawaiian pearls and high heels shoes
this gorgeousness chases off the blues
Categories:
poufs, fashion,
Form: Rhyme
She wears her hair this outrageous way to try and put off adults.
She has no use for adults, they lie, and they are mean.
All adults?
She thinks so
Due to her experiences.
She dyes her hair an odd red color, and she poufs it up.
Forming clouds which she sticks yellow carnations in.
No one wears their hair like this!
Except her.
And it suits her.
Young children like it.
They think she is a fairy godmother.
She enjoys them, and they adore her.
When their parents come over, she disappears.
Nothing suspicious about this, right?
Categories:
poufs, women,
Form: Free verse
When I was little heaven was
cotton candy clouds.
Dead dangling feet
over the edge.
Shoes swaying,
some laces undone.
I misunderstood the idea of soles
being free.
Some were barefoot.
Because who needs shoes
to walk across marshmallows?
I still believe.
I still look up.
Only now I don't search for shoes.
I search for a ladder.
*****************
When I got older heaven was a blindfold.
People died and dissappeared.
Cloud poufs became powder kegs.
Shoes abandoned in the hall
some laces undone.
I misunderstood the idea of souls
no one is free.
We all die barefoot.
Who needs shoes
to rot in a hole.
I don't believe.
I don't look up.
Now I search for rain clouds
and wait to drown.
Categories:
poufs, death, heaven,
Form: Free verse
precious pearly moonbeams
peachy pink sunset's pause
poufs of blooms in a field
prismatic in hushed pomp
pouty weeping willows
parrots screeching summer
petite girl with a plum
Categories:
poufs, beautiful, bird, color, flower,
Form: Pleiades
Like pulsing poufs of gossamer,
They float beneath the sea,
With tentacles a'trailing -
Could such creatures really be?
From minuscule to eight feet long,
They glide and luminesce.
How long they live and how they die
Is anybody's guess.
They have no brains or hearts, and yet
They're graceful, smooth and cool;
But with their stinging tentacles,
Their prey would call them cruel.
Today at the aquarium
I watched them blob and drift,
A mesmerizing spectacle,
Which felt just like a gift.
I'll never get below the waves
To see them out of tanks,
So Monterey's Aquarium
Deserves my deepest thanks.
Categories:
poufs, animal, sea,
Form: Rhyme