sernetta was strange I thought, an oddball.
born with a caul I heard, born with a caul.
on the afternoon of the Omaha Squall.
she made a date with her cousin squirrely Paul.
frankly I think this took tremendous gall.
paul came to the date wearing a pink wig and shawl.
maybe this crazy pair is a matched set after all.
sernetta arrived dragging a worm-infested U-haul.
during this first date, they started a flat out brawl.
sernetta called paul a crawling bawling doll.
paul yelled that sernetta was abnormally tall.
I heard this all while cowering in a restaurant bathroom stall.
hearing these shouts echoing down the hall.
i tried not to hear it, my ears next to the wall.
oddly enough, they got married today in Carpenters Hall.
so, am I right that sernetta is a real oddball?
On a winding road but the view is clear,
pent up I am pierced by a bronze sunrise;
The perfect recipe? Us my dear;
Don’t take for granted what that implies;
Together we become icons,
an addictive sumptuous treat;
Driving down deserted dawns,
inspiring a brand new beat.
My Muse serenades
in the morning, late at night;
I can hear his voice
every hour of the day;
A notch below the surface;
Sweet Summer anthem
with all my windows rolled down;
Smelling boardwalk fries
without a care in the world;
Seaside melody turned up;
Driving until dawn
as the dark mingles with light,
familiar measure;
Now all I will have is you,
and that’s all I need; Cruising.
Pained piano keys compose
a chorus-less composition.
Melancholic moods crave
to sway back and forth
like bluebells and lilies dancing,
when kissed by the morning breeze.
Forlorn flute flirts with sympathetic tunes,
echoing vivid vibrations,
piercing layers of a forgotten heart.
Somber undertones seduce the soul,
as it struggles to swim,
silently immersing in sorrowful symphonies.
Yet the orchestra is mute - slumbering
in the ruins of unfinished musings.
Ignorant to the heartbroken harp
that lusts to strum romantic melodies,
but stands in sincere elegance,
decaying as dust suppresses its emotions.
Lyrics float by, searching for a home,
but remain unheard in the absence of the viola.
Its loss has become an enemy
to violin strings, crippled from cries
yearning for their cello comrades.
Alone their music does not co-exist
and falls upon deaf ears.
Music has no providence,
yet the mind is lost in its province.
Searching for soothing serenades
that softly sail ships towards
shores strumming sweet strings.
Sometimes harmonies struggle to enlighten in solitude,
but when composed together, their lyrics live forever.
wild wind serenades
as snowflakes begin their dance—
white enchanted birth
1-15-18
A STRAND (1067) ~First Place~
Contest Judged: 2/6/2022 11:48:00 PM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Entered into, Haiku, i love u. Poetry contest~First Place Trophy~
Sponsor James Edward Lee Sr. 1-15-18
November 18, 2015
Snow Contest~First Place~
Sponsor Shadow
it is what it is
sunrise either warm or cold
a light in the sky
the sun is being
and the keeper of the time
for billions of eyes
as the sunrises it sets
half a world away
my east and your west
Lang schon verklungen
Die Sommer Serenaden
Im frühen Rauhreif
Über dem silbernen Gras
Liegt jetzt schon sanft der Nebel
-------------------------------------
Long faded away
The summer's serenades
In the early rime
Upon the silver grass
Lies softly the fog
------------------------------------
Hace tiempo se apagaron
Las serenadas del vernao
En temprana escarcha
Sobre herba platinada
Esta puesto suave la niebla