Rapscallions! This time he who clearly says; not me: They are rapscallions.
Just "a collection of rapscallions all writing under "assumed" names."
I would add to it: Yet, that not all of them ~ few are not! In my view.
Let’s parley about pasta as World famous as the rasta Bob Marley
With potato rascal parcel not American Italian stallion like Rocky
Cocky stubby not ice hockey puck but stocky chubby soft gnocchi
Pizza is also a master blaster for those who chose good food faster
Cool old school cellar creamy mozzarella dreamy stellar mortadella
Better also for pancetta regatta bold umami tsunami of salami army
Drunken rapscallions parmesan medallions gold from sunken galleons
More is less finesse caress expedient ingredient largess will impress
Motto in gourmet grotto wins the lotto is of course Goddess risotto
Totemic signature vinegar star Balsamic the talismanic tsar in a jar
By the way we're told they say come what may ever day "agrodolce"
jumble of juicy jaguars justified
kicking kangaroo king’s left side
looking lovely ladies in waiting lied.
making merry mischief, feeling mystified
nervous nymphets getting a gentle glide
onset of ordinary outstanding ocelot who can barely abide
perfectly persnickety penguins parading patriot pride
quizzing querulous quails quacking for their leader has died
random rapscallions responding to a rip-roaring ride
savorless scatterbrained scribes on sister Susie’s side
tantalizing tigers teasing juicy jaguars about the upcoming tide.
Johannes was a gentleman; she had heard this.
Greta knew him not, but when he entered the room
she sensed it was the lord of the manor.
He was casual; spoke in a low voice.
Seemed to sense that a regular voice might frighten her.
She had never been this close to aristocracy.
Her father had warned her to stay away from the rich.
He had called them rapscallions, and knaves.
His experiences tainting them all, lumping them together.
Greta was more open minded than her father;
she gave him a bit of a chance. The light flickered
in his eyes; his sense of humor was obvious.
They became secret friends, more than
enough to teach her that her intuition was good.
Rapscallions
fuzzy, fur clad, bushytailed
Rapscallions
high wire walking, chattering
tormenting the cat
Rapscallions
peek-a-boo pink nosed
hopping, cotton tailed
Rapscallions
perched in thinning cover
blinking in the wind
Rapscallions
nature’s mischievous imps
playing hide and seek
before bed time.
Rapscallions
John G. Lawless
©10/12/2019
Quaint Inanity.
Sometimes ago I'd thought of the idiosyncratic Shenanigans our politicians employed in declaring their manifesto. They're quite rapscallions.
Exhibiting hoity-toities during their declarations of flapdoodle, they
Tune their cozenage to the rhythm
Of rascality.
And you see kaleidoscopic legs picking
The nimbus of the elfin music.
And they're swayed into cotillion till their Fela* commute to dirge.
18:07:23:18:52
Fishwives
In junkets to
the golden shore
Beside the cobalt
sea of lore
Was told of dwellings
and rapscallions
Of ramshackled wood
and galleons.
Where ancient mariners
and the breeze
Sailed upon
the unknown seas,
Where wives and fish,
in nets, were caught,
And the spoils of labour
sold and bought,
And 'neath the starry skies
would sing
Of trawlers and
the nets they'd fling,
Starboard bow
and guillemot peck
The flapping herring
upon oily deck.
Where wives and fish,
of griddle and broth
Spit and cuss
in their beery froth,
And carving ships
in dry whalebone
The men, of gods
and serpents, moan.
By dark, by habit,
by candle lit
Gather in separate
huddles, sit,
Weary lines upon
a salty thread
Weave and knot
their minds to bed.
To dream of junkets
to a golden shore
Where told of dwellings
that are no more,
Where supper served
in a driftwood dish
Would taste as sweet
as wives and fish.
At night rapscallions in my head
Refuse the coal that scorches dread
And peace, however light the touch
Calms the seas where dragons rush
The crescent moon, my dreams aglow
With love so pure, pearl ivy grows
Hurried heart that once sought fame
Must kindle hope née shatter shame
Above the sky where angels dwell
My pealing bark in prayer reveals
A moment filled with His relief
When light grows dim
doth vanquish
Grief
02/01/12
1:56am
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