.
wool
twill weave
cardiganz
harem pants
boots
hoodiez
aran coats
dents
bear sweet my coat and wear it best
its arms from me around your chest
don’t weigh my spirit dark and dead
I’ll be e’er-woven ‘tween each thread
its bound’ries bind you deep the night
those shimmered stars your only light
so when you ache for cold’s reprieves
my love waits warm within its sleeves
time might have brought a fade or stains
but years will show that warmth remains
left o’er from times I’d claimed it’s clutch
when we’ve shared hugs or just a touch
you’ll know I’m there and haunt it still
soft scents ‘just mine’ deep in its twill
to knit your thoughts to our dear start
like charms have knit you to my heart
our ‘goodbye’ words I’ll make my last
but hold me midst this frock, and fast
when mem’ries fail to shape my face
saves sweet, this coat, our last …
embrace.
Copyright © 2025 Gregory Richard Barden
I'll be waiting quietly
Back behind the scenes
In case, perhaps it's meant to be
That we live out those dreams
I'll still be up most half the night
Thinking hard and long
And in my mind 'twill in my sight
See Bluebird singing songs
Reading books I think you'd like
Each year one more in sum
Talking to you while I bike*
You never knew that one
Everything will be just fine
Worry not for me
Regardless if the us be mine
Or not, we'll wait and see
*Secret
There's a plaque at number 1-0-5
'Twill be there for some years
And anyone who looks at it
Will just see what appears
But they won't know the meaning
What lies behind the word
All they'll see when reading it
Is simply this, "Bluebird"
A testament to something?
A nickname for someone?
No one will have an inkling
They'll just think it's fun
But two out of eight billion
Do know the secret of
What lies behind that little plaque,
A token of one's love
My auntie, who was on vacation
Was lusting for fast fornication
She met a well-hung guy
But her foo-foo’s too dry
She blurted, “It needs lubrication!”
The fella, whose first name was Dick
Said, “Stay put. I’ll be back real quick
I’ll purchase sticky Jell-O
‘Twill turn your foof bright yellow
But ensures my entry is slick!"
The Jell-O lube worked really well
Dick satisfied my Auntie Mel
Next time she needs some lube
She’ll melt a Jell-O cube
Aunt’s shagged out. I think you can tell!
The clouds are swirling in the wind,
Unique designs appear within.
An artist’s brush could be the air,
For many forms are found up there.
Look up there, it’s a swimming whale,
‘Twill quickly change with the next gale.
It seems so strange to change so much,
It makes it hard to keep in touch.
There’s a ship with the flag raised high,
It slowly fades as it drifts by.
A dragon flies upon the mast,
With raging winds, it will not last.
One way to live with all this change,
Enjoy each form when it’s in range.
Then like a child with a new toy,
Each change will bring with it more joy.
Don’t allow fear to have its way,
Change will come with every new day.
Giving us a chance to mature,
A better chance to feel secure.
She carries with her a secret
one she’ll keep forever
She once loved her children
‘till they used her as a lever
against her spouse, ‘twas blackmail
although it never failed…
Just what her secret is I cannot tell
~ 'twill be revealed when the river swells
A winsome weave, simple and real,
Warp and weft; a tight twill,
A weaverbird’s nest, strong and snug,
With soft crossways and tumphy tug.
Subtle cozy patterns, seldom revealed,
Cynical twists like waves unsealed,
The mirror of peafowl’s courtship field.
Matchless display by the peacock,
Dance elevated by love, rattle of feathers in rhythmic clock,
Enticing and dazing the hens, with a silent poise,
All while rivals raise their voice.
Waking incredible train rattle, a sharper dance,
Initial plumage grandeur, a healthier glance,
Peahens’ basics caught in a stance.
Beautifully woven, a rhythmic tapestry,
Wales ranged in a rolling plain spree,
Richly captivating...lines of love,
Crowned with bliss by the brave thereof.
bear sweet my coat and wear it best
its arms from me around your chest
don’t weigh my spirit dark and dead
I’ll be e’er-woven ‘tween each thread
its bound’ries bind you deep the night
those shimmered stars your only light
so when you ache for cold’s reprieves
my love waits warm within its sleeves
time might have brought a fade or stains
but years will show that warmth remains
left o’er from times I’d claimed it’s clutch
when we’ve shared hugs or just a touch
you’ll know I’m there and haunt it still
soft scents ‘just mine’ deep in its twill
to knit your thoughts to our dear start
like charms have knit you to my heart
our ‘goodbye’ words I’ll make my last
but hold me midst this frock, and fast
when mem’ries fail to shape my face
saves sweet, this coat, our last …
embrace.
( photographic art of watercolor by Angus McEwan taken from public domain files at FreePik / Flickr )
Bill and Gil met a new gal, Diamond Lil
In a sassy saloon named Petey’s Swill
She was dressed with a dolly lady’s skill
Ruffled as a male peacock with a trill
Diamond Lil educated naïve Bill and innocent Gill
Of this debauchery world they had each known zill
Her step-by-step lessons were a gigantic thrill
She taught them with the precision of a sergeant’s drill
Many of her life lessons were taught on Farmer’s Hill
Like how to make corn whiskey in a bootlegger’s still
She also taught them some interesting things at the old saw mill
They knew now how to determine if a fabric was satin or twill
Bill and Gill never got over their education with Diamond Lil
One of their most deranged jealous neighbors was Jenny Jill
Jenny tried to kill Diamond Lil with a giant unknown pill
Thus, Lil ran off with a dastardly gentleman named Mr. Bill.
Taking with her two other men she had met at Petey’s Swill
Heck, who am I?
I fell, taken to hospital.
Strong antibiotics and was sent home.
I felt dizzy. Who cared?
Diabetic pills sent me into deep coma.
Found myself in a different new hospital.
Woke in a corridor alone.
Who am I? What's my name? I want to go back home.
My sweet daughter
Took me to a rest home, explained.
And showed me some photos, went for a walk.
Mild amnesia. 'twill pass.
Old and new flashes of memories came and went.
Began to write poems. Old friends just disappeared,
Wish some memories went away.
But the urge to write poetry, free or rhymed, stayed.
Placed 1
Jill lives in a town with a mill,
She loves wearing clothes with no frill,
Though she doesn't mind them made of twill,
She cooks her foods using a grill.
She often climbs high on the hill,
To fetch fresh water with a thrill.
Today, she felt both tired and ill,
Filling the drum, she must fulfill.
So, her mum made her go fetch still.
Jill couldn’t climb despite her skill.
She felt worse in the windy chill,
And fell, spilling the bucket fill.
The valley echoed loud her shrill,
Her fall was stopped by an anthill.
Now her mum'd pay the clinic bill,
Though doing so is not her will.
Why not fetch from a nearby rill?
Now she's stuck taking a strong pill,
Just God knows when she'll take it till,
For that steep fall was a near-kill
28th October, 2024.
Updated on: 28th January, 2025.
Contest: Jill Nursery Rhyme
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Contest Judged: November 18th, 2024 1:26:00 AM
Placement: Third
summertime has passed
memories are left
of our lovely days
shared with family
special times held dear
grown grands in the pool
great granddaughters too
memories to last
yes, those days flew by
all too soon it came
close the pool- to sleep
tucked in, covered tight
and await next year
when in early June
twill embrace once more
loved ones in my life
My Fair Lady Lidja--disquiet--sigh
Limit thine opinions, my Lord Miltrose,
Thy intent fails midst tardily shadows
Albeit findeth tis aid satisfy
Ahh! My Lord Sir Gilroy, tis nice surprise
Twill thine fair milieu idle pitched moist lips
Delivery thrills with a smile post scripts
Admittedly the id did simplify
A lady said the incident eclipse
Ships neither sink nor swim in tranquil Springs
Flights robins and whipper-o-willow wings'
Claims to an anointing gift rectify
Blessings of an innocent child ... heartstrings
Mildly midst millennium ... a voice sings ...
“My Lord’s-in-waiting, beseech thy favor
an ear and harken of woven words will
of a lifetime breathes I, here and now,
True Lord in Waiting in time and place
for us to be … somewhere, someplace,
… for all time."
Seize the moment,
Seize the day,
Time is fleeting
So they say.
Time is flying,
Time is flowing
Onward to the sunset,
In an instant 'twill be going.
Do not rage
Against the torrent,
The best of life
Is in the moment.
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