Background B.B King it
You'll get home alone
A Quartering as Jazz
As quart and liter
As meter and mile
Footage and reconcile
Irish Quartermasters Gaurd
Kevin J. O'Meadhra
Trace as feather
Low of ash
Bury of quill
Fide et amore
Nightingales Ergo
Send in rot
Further, borrow
Scottish wreathing
Entangled Britain
Relent
They of leave
Twined as lecture
Recital of yellow
Beckon brown
Revile of green
Tustled hearth
Baby babysit looks like
It's gonna hail
Jump and jive
As sent to the SAG
In tawdry spent
The war is lent
The establishment of thy own
A hate filled thrown
As crimes as thine
Tinkle and toast
In a entire
Only as pure
The picture as haunt
Plagiarism
Stores front
Sufferer as complaint
In stilled poverty
I law
Joan had little art
Lythed command
Hinde weeps rather as waltz
Herculean task
Wardrobe mantle black
Opening Suggestion of Betrothed
Buds burst spring colors beneath blue skies,
fragrant lure beguiles butterflies.
with less words
risen are the river's current
melody in minnow's swimming
hollow that's able to hallow
climax of a cliche film
xerophile for desert's scene
Act one had just begun
on the day we met
how was I to know the die was cast
and the stage was set
Act two what was I to do
when you stole my soul
who'd have guessed the part was mine
and I would play a leading role
Act three now you're with me
I put my heart into all I do
should I fall before curtain call
I could put my heart in you
Act four can't ask for more
I won't miss a line or cue
it's beyond my wildest dreams
a fairy tale come true
A Summers Idyl
warm summer’s day at the lake
inviting my wife and I to sit and enjoy
the water is a cool aqua blue
rich color of relaxation
slight breeze touches the surface
barely a ripple disturbs the scene
the green rowboat rocks at anchor
hoping we will avail ourselves of a ride
my wife dressed in her white chiffon dress
idly sits on the cool concrete steps
her broad brimmed hat perched on her blonde hair
to keep the yellow rays of the sun from her head
at the top of the steps, I have the best view
I can drink fully of the summer scene
in rainbow linens
kaleidoscopic tulips ~
flirt under blue sky
Never spoke
About the things
I can do or would do
Always told you
About what I've done
Some right and some wrong.
I never let my flaws
Weigh me down
Right from birth
Right from my mother's womb
I've been striving for authenticity not perfection
Not letting my imperfections take over me.
Like my mother
Never neglected me
Amidst my imperfections
She knows my battles
Always correcting my wrongs
Sometimes by war or with love.
Climbing cotton clouds float away
across canvas of summer sky.
Birds bathe in blue bay,
to amber nest they fly.
Autumn comes with golden spray.
Sunburst horizon’s chromatic drape drawn,
splits sunbeam in spectral splendor.
Sky spills colors of dawn,
air sways cinnamon grass slender
in malachite meadow, turning fawn.
The crown of topaz dew
shines with morn’s opaline glow.
Draping cinnabar garden with hue
sepia trees grip ground fallow,
leaves echo fall’s footfall new.
The sun is shining in the fan
It's a nice view, I'm drooling to eat
Got to wake in the middle of the forest
Various wild birds, woods, spiders everywhere
Woke up early to see the sea of fog
Sunrise through the fog like a dream
The atmosphere is fresh too and ventilating
Beside a river my tent is settled
Far from the excruciating city pains
Here life is mine alone no travesty to fret
Wholesome rejuvenating purposes to me
It's worth it that I have come this place.
Railroads and Stair Ties
inside his french rent
everything went wrong at night
the city creeps in behind
and around your backs
having two different doorways
wondering when you lock
yourself in and upstairs
music's happen after
you walk to work
so during brunch her
boyfriends manage the street
sign like thats gonna work
Josey boy on his way to the morning shifts
A BULL in a china shop with a permanent rotten smell of musk
• The sweet sound of dead silence
• Makes a good noise machine
• When you see me face down
• Please don't cause a scene
Its always been the same crucible
,burn the midnight oil,
welcome to the new heap
dig the new shovel
Life in a private nunnery
waiting for euphoria
for someone to offer her a miracle
Like the calm before the storm
Shes so grateful
all awash in the World
The most baby blue, two-storied house; baby blue chimney;
and milk-chocolate-brown rooftop. A whimsical triangle pine,
in front and ‘longside the home, seems to be atop a hill,
newly covered in pearl-gray white snow.
Spheres of snow, descending and ascending - spirited
prayers on Jacob’s ladder. Chimney, roof, house, and
fence posts dotted with drips of snow. Likewise, snow
shudders underneath the shutters eyelids.
Posts, of beige, baby pink, milk chocolate and tawny,
wrapped in holly berries and leaves; Coal-black iron gate,
more open than closed with crafted hearts.
Home surrounded by holly berry arch - perhaps a red cardinal
will alight and give a delightful nibble on a berry or two.
The pine and shutters, piquant. Ponders the apple of the eye,
stitched to the variance of woven threads, surely by foible,
needle and fragile fingers, not reaching for perfection,
but perfectly piques the curiosity for a poet’s meditation.
CHRISTMAS WINTER SCENE
Ice glistening,
Like crystals in the snow,
On red vibrant berries,
Such a beautiful display to show.
A blanket of frost,
Covering the whole ground,
Morning song of the robin,
Such a wonderful sound.
Snowflakes drifting,
Dancing in the breeze,
Trees covered in white,
Such a peaceful scene.
It's so magical and amazing to see,
At Christmas time,
Bringing joy, love and happiness,
Let Christmas magic shine.
A day that's special, in your own way
Wishing you a Happy Christmas,
Have a wonderful day!!
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