That sheepish smile
disarming a gruff poet
coyly offer hope
my Bridgewater seraphim
kick back wine like a sailor
for K.C.
(inspired by Billie Eilish’s Bad Guy)
I’m a bad girl
bad like Chucky's bride
under a sequined veil I hide
I'm a bad girl
pulling the rug from under your feet
upon learning your life isn't sweet
I'm a bad girl
because I can't be strong
to keep from doing you wrong
I'm a bad girl
not good enough for you
so bad no light can shine through
I'm a bad girl
for backing away like a sheep
when the hills get too steep
I'm a baaad girl
Do you remember how it used to be?
Our sheepish smiles at each other for seemingly nothing?
Stolen kisses in deserted parking lots?
Our endless strolls through many a night holding hands?
I do!
I remember the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at me
How it felt to be held in your arms
These days, it feels really empty
I am gazing at you and I am wondering if you still fee the same?
I am wondering- do you still love me at all?
.
For several years, I've been a raftsman every summer
Ferrying herds and noisy folks across this gray river
Who shout, argue and fight about this body of water
The goat-like shepherd bleats out loud, wise-cracking puns
Says: "You can never cross the same river more than once
It changes every moment, every swirl, every flow
May look the same but its waters come, its currents go
You float or swim in it, but then whatever you do
This river's not the one .. that you crossed awhile ago!"
The sheep-like goatherd retorts in a long, screaming leap
Says: " That's a shallow view, I've got something really deep
If the river is the water that drenches your knees
A dozen rivers can swish by you in just a sneeze
Even when you pause for just a short minute or two
You're not the one crossing .. the rivers are crossing you!"
As long as their banter won't make my raft keel over
And they pay their fare like any decent passenger
No goatherd, no shepherd will I push into the river!
.
In a market outdoors one day, Pam
was caught pilfering using a pram.
Fast away that lass flew
on the back of a ewe.
One might say she was then "on the lamb!"
For Brian Strand's All Yours (Jun 27) Poetry Contest
Always at the end of his jokes
She heads off to visit her folks
Being a blonde is no fun
So off she does run
For sometime away from her bloke
So into the country she heads
This blonde who is now a brunette
But on the road she does meet
A woolly flock off nice sheep
As she slams on the anchors in sweat
To the shepherd she offers to ask
How many you have is my task
If I guess it dead right
I take one home tonight
As she hopes to lose this blonde mask
She counts as she guesses bang on
There is one hundred and seventy one
Slowly looking around
She takes the one sitting down
Feeling shes on a home run
Now the shepherds been left so agog
Amazed at this brunette road hog
Her shade of hair he has guessed
Birth blonde you are blessed
It's not a sheep you have, it's my dog
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