played with his toes;
feet solidly suited,
two months old
in my BFF’s arms.
I’m getting over cold,
or as I told her,
“I’d get in her business,”
and swoop the fella
into my arms -
what a charm.
the miracle is
there are three.
my friend thought
she’d tally zero.
tangible those toes;
and the two year old
is shyer than shy,
sporting a ponytail.
the five year old
outshines;
Chucky Cheese
can’t keep up.
he will charm
the kindergarteners.
blessed is my BFF -
I smile at God winks.
*BFF - best friends forever
Categories:
shyer, celebration,
Form: Free verse
I’m growing old inside my eyes.
Through that lens I cannot disguise.
She saw them today while magnifying.
Tiny cataracts is what she was spying.
Emma the optician must be lying.
I’m growing old within my knees.
When I struggle to rise please don’t tease.
Getting down is fine to light the fire.
Only now I wish the range was higher.
Being watched makes me even shyer.
Im growing old but feeling fine.
Now relaxing I type as I recline.
No more worries with work stress.
Old age really is the best
antidote to being young.
Sometimes it’s even a lot more fun.
Categories:
shyer, age, cheer up, how
Form: Rhyme
(Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Delight)
I used to feel disjointed and frazzled.
Now all my connections are fine.
I have a red headed girl with my coffee,
And a strawberry blond with my wine.
I harbor twin sisters I treat as my guests.
They honor me favors and grant my requests.
It’s not as perverse as the telling suggests.
We work on avoiding estrangement.
I have the outgoing one in the morning,
Her love is spirited and strong,
And make the shyer one mine in the evening.
I take the lead and she follows along.
I shack with twin sisters who service my needs
With purposeful actions and merciful deeds.
They dance for me nude and get down in the weeds.
It’s a mutually helpful arrangement.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
SATIVA & INDICA GREENWEED
Categories:
shyer, allegory, health, how i
Form: Burlesque
A wee fellow, sporting an outsize bold-orange chest
The male of the species, ever doing his best
To protect his shyer, pale-chested mate
Back and forth struts Mr. Robin 'cross yard and fence
Twitching and turning, movements taut and tense
A most dutiful look-out, if not so in actual name
~ Noble sentry, setting Madame Robin's heart aflame
Categories:
shyer, bird, care, love,
Form: Rhyme
If space had more than a billion stars
I would still bring them down for you
I will make you a necklace
I would take the moon as a ring
And distance as a thread
And wrap it all up
Circling it into a wristband
So you have the world in your hand
And I have you with me
And we could face the remaining stars from Jupiter
Counting the constellations and painting more
And you'd have half the universe in your dress
And half I would express
And your laugh could make it more
If I sat down with you all night
If we gaze those dim lights in the sky
Galaxies will be shyer,I'm sure
I will find enough to access
I will make a perfect necklace
Stardust would confess
So you'll wear it like a smile
And you hold the world in your hand
And I hold that remained
So I that have you
And you have me
Categories:
shyer, love, romance,
Form: Verse
All senses alerted, I'm certain you're here
Your hand snakes my waist, confirming the fear
Attempts to fake brave, just making me shyer
Dancing with Daniel is playing with fire.
If I reached up a little,
Close enough to kiss,
The dimple you get where
Your cheek meets your lips
And if you were mine,
I'd lick at the skin,
That concaves to form
Your trademark bumchin
As I reach up to touch,
Just to see how it feels,
You push me away
And run for the hills
So I dance all alone and wait patiently
I know you're not done humiliating me
You are flippant and fickle, I can only aspire
Dancing with Daniel is playing with fire.
Categories:
shyer, devotion, love, me,
Form: Rhyme
BLUEBELLS
Silent bells chiming in this harmony glade.
Trees float on their airy carpet of blues,
Inviting me to glide in them, with their hues
Of damp ground and smell of cool shade.
Patches of flowers here and there disappear
Into perspective and shadowed wood
With Siren appeal and shy bowed hood,
Until they meld into the blue haze far-and-near.
No beginning and no end, chameleons elusive:
No blooms so lovely, and none shyer.
Delighted and surprised I stop and admire:
My sense of belonging and unison is effusive.
Categories:
shyer, nature
Form: Enclosed Rhyme
The rage inside my broken heart is rising.
The fight I maintain is weak.
Tears fall as I sing.
My music is strong, but I am meak.
I will not give up hope though.
No matter whatt it takes to stay on top, I'll do.
I'll perform and give you the very best show.
My music holds the pieces together like glue.
The sound of my guitar will drive you crazy,
The beat of my drums will make you high,
The pitch of my voice makes your thinking hazy;
Me all together takes you to the sky.
I see that you try to help in the fight;
Together we can beat this
If we give it all our might.
I overcame this with just one kiss.
From the sound of my music
You will be lifted;
All of your thoughts will be shifted.
Just think of this tune as a drug,
Something that will addict you,
Not something that will go away with just one shrug.
A medication that is okay for you to do,
It will take you higher.
My music will lift your spirit,
Make you feel shyer,
And no one can steal it.
Categories:
shyer, artmusic, sound, music, sound,
Form: I do not know?
The Meewee that lives under my bed,
Has purple skin and an unusually large head.
His eyes are large and green,
And although he looks it, he is not at all mean.
His fingers are boney, and his feet are too,
When he smiles you can see his teeth are all cover in goo.
His skin is like leather; all smooth and tough
And he can eat and eat, but it is never enough.
When he giggles, out comes some fire,
And at those times, he is never shyer.
His voice cracks when he talks,
And he has a definite swagger in the way he walks.
His breath was always so fresh and new
It reminded me of the morning, all covered on dew.
He was cheerful and funny; a joy to be around.
I’d known him for years, but I’d never seen him frown.
He bounced off the walls all day and nigh;
He never slept, and never knew fright.
He is the Meewee that lives under my bed.
I know what you think; that he’s just in my head.
But come into my room, you’ll never see anything bounce higher
Than my little purple Meewee that laughs and spits fire.
Categories:
shyer, fantasy, imagination
Form: Rhyme