Do not fall in love with a poet:
Breakfast would be a couplet.
Lunch would be a quatrain:
Personified, pithy and prolix on metaphoric train.
Supper would be a sonnet:
Smithereens of oomphs, entangled in esurience's enmesh.
On the spousal sunshine,
He would sew suit of slant rhymes.
For how long he would last in bassinet:
Measured in Troche, dactyl, anaspetic or iambic pentameter.
Advice for the shavers and doxy:
Lofty metaphors Clothed in paradoxical antithesis.
Talk more of many other things,
Your home is hyperbole of poetry.
19:05:05:13:51
Ancestor. Ancestral Pen. Ancestral piece. SOS
Categories:
troche, poetry,
Form: I do not know?
~~
O, a sweet one my wee cat,
White and brown and strong;
She likes sleeping on my bed,
Snoring all night long.
Eating, she sure does enjoy,
Now is time to play;
We are chasing furry balls,
Then she walks away.
________________________________
March 29, 2015
Poetry/Quatrain/Troche/My Cat
Copyright Protected, ID 15-658-074-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Have You Tried 5/7 Troche
Sponsor, Andrea Dietrich
Fourth Place
Categories:
troche, cat, pets,
Form: Quatrain
The walls resonate
like the inside of a brass bell.
Footfalls act as the clapper bouncing sound
like a ping pong ball from wall to wall.
The antique oriental rug with its dragon vase
had long left, the black enameled troche
no longer lit the floor in puddles of orange light.
Hollowed out, the place was….
scooped like a cantaloupe free of the seeds
of man, of childish laughter and parental spats.
Dust bunnies scurry in the late afternoon
through the sunlight from dirty window panes.
Spiders weave webs in the corners of long
forgotten dreams…
Soon, all too soon,
this will be the case, the leaving will come
footfalls will lead to the last closing,
the brass doorknob will no longer reflect my face
and the emptiness will fill with the dreams
of a new family...
Categories:
troche, depression, family, introspection, life,
Form: Free verse
Forever Yours
Confused, I weep for loss because my heart
Does pine and long for a new day to dawn.
When I shall see, quite well, your smile.
My love is yours.
Forgive, me please, if I perchance offend.
Sought I to cause thee harm? I say,” No way!”
Your smile and songs never will I forget.
I miss you, so.
My friend, look back, passing folly whispers.
Flowers never knew such vibrant beauty.
Upon the grass, happy butterflies raced.
I beg, “Come back.”
We ran against the wind, as free as birds.
Look there, and dream of child like love we gave.
The day we saved seashells, my heart took flight.
Forever yours.
My love for you shall not find end, this day.
Nor shall I see love wane at all; I’ll shout.
Forgive, forgive; just take my hand, again.
Together, win.
Poetic Form: Free Verse - Troche troche dactyl troche troche x3 +Dactyl troche
Categories:
troche, loveday, love,
Form: Free verse