The leaves seem to be smirking
Gently giggling in the dropping dew
Egging on the sting of a rising sun
Sheltering the empty bird feeder
Sad roses weep dewdrop tears
Summer’s shadows hints of fall
Garden sprinklers defy the water ban
Hawk’s struggle in the silent air
August will challenge the ripening fruit
She will throw down the gauntlet
Challenge the pumpkins of October
As lovers stroll along the beach
The moon will offer a subtle kindness
The soothing cool of the sun’s goodnight
Their comrade was a confident lad who did not mind observations
Cowed a bit by his belief in his abilities, the other two were quiet
Unless he dove under the water, then the critiques came out
They were brutally disrespecting him, but only in low tones
And only when he could not hear them.
Others who sat near, observed, smirking a bit.
Because they were cousins to the swimmer
and would gladly tell him about it afterwards.
He would laugh like a monkey when he heard this.
He loved intimidating people without trying.
Jimmy was reluctant to go to the Halloween party that night.
He was a sensitive guy, who could be fooled; he often jumped in fright.
Will it be spooky? He asked his cousin, who told him a big lie.
She actually wanted her roommate to meet Jim; he was such a great guy.
His eyes had to adjust to the dark; the party was a dance going strong.
He saw a gorgeous woman standing under the punch bowl a bit too long.
He went to join her and was mesmerized by her beauty; she was gorgeous.
She wore a helmet turning her into Medusa, six giant snakes in a fuss.
Not frightened at all, Jimmy invited her to dance, which was rare.
By the end of the evening, he was ever so glad to be there.
Next day at lunch, Jim lamented that he did not know Medusa's name.
His cousin was smirking, because he had actually met the right dame.
I race my grocery cart past the produce aisle
the manager there gives me a smirking smile
I am headed for the bakery in the back
lemon scones and blueberry muffins are now in my sack
I leave the grocery with no nutrition at all
These sweet starchy trips will be my downfall.
A giggle escaped from the shelf
as Santa was tossing himself,
his face very red,
'I'm coming,' he said
and smirking, he shot on the elf.
Your eyes are like a treasure casket,
Filled with gold,
Eyelashes like the tree after a freshful rain,
Cheeks , soft like cotton
Smirking face, elegant charm.
imagining you is like,
imagining a landscape,
Which has everything that you
Wish for , desire for
Wanted,are obsessed with
And the aroma of soil,
Reminds me of you,
Everytime i see you,
This is the way , i see you.
Instant the command
As decisions
In labouring the fields
A civil war of family's avoiding
Yet the enactments mimic
As bond as surety
In financing burdens
One wishes not to carry
Carriage as stable
Nightingales lost fables
Ferry in twist
Smirking gentle and smits
To the good Friday of Ireland
You will know these women when you see them
The ones full of beauty thats nice and slim
It puts you in disbelief every now and again
These women think everyone wants their man
Name brand clothes, weave and makeup tells lies
Pretty on the outside with pain hidden on inside
They try so hard because there is fear within
It's a daily struggle for them and a fight to win
It takes alot for them to try to hide their pain
Sadness basking in their glamour thats in vain
They think every woman wants to be like them
Going by titles such as diamond a precious gem
They always like to be watched and to be seen
The main ones full of attitude and always mean
They crave jealousy and want to be admired
Always smirking at men but want to be desired
Their insecurities they try their best to cover up
It's difficult with their tight pants up their butt
If they give you a dirty look or roll their eyes
Keep in mind their insecurities will die with time
Minehead, or Skegness,
she never could remember which.
A monochrome ‘Box Brownie’
a smirking strange man.
She's young and beautiful.
They sit on a low seawall,
my four-year-old-self
between.
A passer-by took the image.
the lens was held too high
only the top of my tussled head
is in frame.
Despite this she had a copy made.
She claimed
there were other lost
pics of just us,
but only this one peekaboo image
has kept surfacing,
and I always feel twice blessed
by that invisible day,
in Minehead
or Skegness.
Artist - derelict and drifter.
Move about like windblown bones.
Bathing in the dry, veined riverbed.
Fashioning crafts and wares unwanted.
Weaving ends that never intend to meet.
Father of the northern aurora lairs.
Dancing with ice bears atop great flows.
So cold, both sun and flyer freezing midair.
Tooth walkers jab the flanks of ice ghosts.
Mother rainforest, a forever emerald charm.
Within every shadow, a deadly smirking slant.
The panther and poison dart hopper.
To the last known being of a dying clan.
They'll all meet within the womb of reckoning.
Far above this temporary mad blue orb. churning.
The mysteries opening only to the searcher.
Like a Fabergé egg on the apron of forever.
Cancer
I loathe and detest you
If I'm honest, I really HATE you
I despise the way
You keep popping up to irritate us
like a smirking floating turd
Which we’d love to flush away forever
Attempts were made to eradicate you
Skilled surgeons tried to cut you out
But you were like a ‘cling on’ in the toilet of life
And you wouldn’t be brushed aside
Six years passed…
Then more intervention was needed
A radiation machine called ‘Holly’
Tried to zap you like a pesky mosquito
But you had other ideas
Four years passed
More specialised SABR radiation was required
We treated that week like a short break
Going on day trips on non treatment days
And enjoying life to the full
Two years on
Cancer has raised its ugly face once again
The specialist laughed when hubby said
“We will treat it like a week’s holiday”
Having a positive attitude is a must!
Cancer – you crept into our lives
People see you as a silent killer
But I will never be silent and de-turd
And we will continue to celebrate
How we’re beating the crap out of you!
I sit here smug, my secret in place,
With a quiet cheesy grin upon my face.
They ask me, beg me, play I-spy, and pry —
But nope! Not me folks! I'm not telling why!
They try to read signs stuck on my lips
Unzip all my social internet blips and syncs.
To see the steely poker-face stare lurking
behind the smoke-screen tease, smirking,
Revealing a wink, a shrug, a side-glance-sigh.
But nobody knows, and I'm not telling why.
I’ve come to—k(now), the sobering conclusion
that I must be a lunatic; else what
sufficiently explains the smirking smut
clouding my judgment?—what viscous illusion—
outright{(diagnosable[,perhaps)delusion]},—
persuades me to heed your haughty strut?
Each inch of every corner of my gut
is begging—not—accept—refuse—intrusion.
ah!, but I budge, I give in to temptation!
why,why,why must I make the same mistake
instead of just quite well so simply break-
-ing the cycle of you?—o’ that salvation,
in what dark nook lurks it?, which saviour holds
the key that unschackles me from your folds?
millions...
of dollars
in bank account;
he's a wealthy man, yet
true happiness
proves
much too expensive
for him;
a walking paradox
impossible
to reconcile.
to the ends of the earth
he goes
painting
r a d i a n t smiles
on faces
on a quotidian basis, yet
doesn't wear
much of his own.
an expert pretender
convincing
all and sundry
that all is fine, yet
suffers
in silence.
when does
the smirking mask fall off?
may the Lord
bring healing sunshine
to this man
laughing
with the world, yet
crying
alone.
Tears, they flow as giddy gushing streams,
and meddle with our facile sense of joy,
seamlessly they interface cod emotions,
whirlpool laughter smothers trite elation,
smirking bogus rivulet, weeping willow branch,
to that toxic ocean known as hollow mirth
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