Tales Poems

GEOFF: A Whet Pirouette Poem

GEOFF: A Whet Pirouette Poem
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furry, spry squirrel, Geoff
Chaucer he doth channel
"Come and 'whet thine whistle'."
"Poof! abracadabra!"
     Really?
     Now Georgie,
     you're silly!
     be smiley,
     beguilely!

Tales of Heartbreak

The saddest words that I have heard spoken
were by a mushroom whose heart was broken. 
Yet, there was that onion I chopped and fried.
Oh, how I remember the tears I cried.

Tales of the Checkerboard Trout

I

I'd say I'm a fisherman beyond compare.
Let me tell you, friend, what I caught there
on the bank of a wild mountain stream, 
when, at once, a sun ray and silver moon beam, 
like a dream, caught me by surprise,
under blue skies, when I was a boy of your size.  
It was the one and

Of course Fairy Tales can come true Daws

Have I done something wrong..8 long years..regretted being forsaken not feted..more pong than gong it appears

Charismatic Selectors mistaken..phlegmatic..enigmatic or erratic

Dramatic not pragmatic nor didactic tactic

Despite the fans throng that he does belong

After an en song bounty..one of the best county careers

Applaud PCA top award for 2024..for the way you play..stack of wickets taken and runs

He Has Colorful Tales

what he says you have to try and swallow with a dump truck load of salt
sure, his colorful stories seem credible, plausible, some even probable
But I know him better than most of you, I am his relative.
His embellishments and entertaining exaggerations could appear
on Faux News.
For what he has to say teeters between alternative facts, tall

In the deep silence of the forest, where the wind whispers forgotten tales

In the deep silence of the forest, where the wind whispers forgotten tales,
lies the mystery of the birds' language, a symphony of ancient songs,
in the prophetic bones of those who know, travelers through times and dreams,
carrying the memory of old days when man and bird were one.
In those golden times, when sky and earth sang

Childish Leader Tells Childish Tales

Bloody war raged on.
Superpower leader said:
"Sometimes kids fighting
like crazy in the yard, can't be parted."
"Best leave them fight on for a while."
Anyone care for TACO and cheese?

Tea Tales

Come and climb these
Broad bony branches and 
Have tea on this tree 
with me,
Let's talk our hearts out
Into the poems unsung. 

Sleep silently singing in my sizzly eyes,
Sleep might snap with some pumpkin chai,
The sun is seeping in my sulky bones,
Soon the milky moon will mysteriously be alone,
Here, have some squishy scone 
While the sun

Zealots

Zealots

zealous zealots zigzag
running rampant, repeating
dubious data drawn
from fallacious forums
which write woeful
tales that try to teach
lurid laughable lies

The Pied Piperess

Orchestrated they succumb onto her board scene ~ As success thrills the ordained Queen of mean—poet

Once upon a time,  there was a Queen with a magic flute in her throat
Beknownst to all the villagers as the  P i e d   P i p e r e s s  
Without losing

tall tales

the avenue's trees 

What is with this month of May
the day is as cold as November 
the leaves on the trees are full
and green, yet among the mass
of chlorophyll, I see many yellow
and Auburn leaves.
It is as if the trees think of autumn 
has arrived and is prepared
for winter hiatus.
If I tell the plants it is because of
melting

HIS AND HISTORY'S TALES

HIS AND HISTORY'S TALES

There is his story,
and there's also history;
bloody lies, skewed truths:

Draw the heart

I draw the heart alone
on a wall,
I draw the heart on the night.
Wanted to draw my heart
on a heart,
but it always kept itself
out of sight,
never appeared
like the endless common tales
under the sun,
rain or the moonlight.

(23.04.2025) 

Under the sky laden with mystery, where the wind sings its endless tales

Under the sky laden with mystery, where the wind sings its endless tales,
Life begins to sketch your outlines, even when you are not prepared,
Just as a tree does not know how to bend until the wind shows it,
The art of not breaking under the burden of storms that embrace it forcefully.
Like a river that seeks

River Tales

His canvas boots still tell of the mountain,
yet Old Man River has changed, grown or dwindled -
hard to say.
Maybe the ragged winged carrion birds
have spirited him away?

The newly painted river towns
have dragged themselves from the water's edge.
Scummy ripples and fresh waves
mingle in the wake of the setting sun.

An ever-young river queen drowns her sorrows
on the

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