sophistry blends with artistry
woos the languid lover
afterward, ‘pon reentry
devilish charms uncovered
Lyricism of wisteria ruses…peacocking muses gushing tomes
Classicism flocking..roams & woos homes not garden gnomes
Colourful creepers cruising..schmoozing with boisterously blushing bricks
Spring exudes mysticism..oozes oodles of bamboozling serendipity flushing
Cherished fingers rushing freely..delivers..unctuous ravishingly rambunctious
Relished slivers lavishly lingers..embellished..proudly protrudes
Inspires rhyming platitudes about gratitude...fires fresh
Attitudes across a range of altitudes & latitudes
Sprinkling wryly of vintner's drily sparkle...ends strange debacle...
Skint stints of wily skinflint winter’s splinters..with hints of now..Spring sprints
But also somehow.. if one squints..get an inkling of change..
Glints of summer's tints slyly twinkling
Earth woos Venus but she is resistant,
reflecting light of sol in the night sky,
mirrored by her lover who’s persistent,
that tango dancing, tremulous hearts sigh.
The girl next door is the beauteous moon,
who planet earth does date from time to time
for when in full bloom, she makes his heart swoon
but Venus alone awakens love’s chime.
Playing spoilsport, Mars spits venom and fire,
whilst jilted Saturn casts a dark shadow,
since for hand of Venus, they both aspire,
though it’s fated neither can be her beau.
Love letters carried on a comet’s tail,
declare those who’re pure of heart will not fail.
having a bee in
one’s bonnet ~ is to be wrapped
up in obsessed with
the honey trap ~ is
an attractive or handsome
looks woos your fondness
the bee's knee's ~ is
something new like an iPhone
or your shoes hair style
the birds and the bees
~ birds do it bees do it and
smart-as-heck fleas SEX (Cole Porter's is:
educated/smart-as-heck
used to fit in the point--
SEX)
what's meant float like a
butterfly sting like a bee
~ life perseverance
When twilight woos me to that enchanted hour
when my eyes grow weary and heavy with sleep
I’ll dream of You, Lord, and a thousand tomorrows
for only in You will my restless soul keep.
In heaven above, I’ll touch grand, pearly gates
I’ll walk hand in Hand upon gold gilded streets
I’ll see pure, sparkling waters at the River of life
flowing forth from the great white throne at Your feet.
I’ll meet every saint in their heavenly state
their glad eyes glowing with kindness and care
and a countenance of love, with all burdens lifted
up high in that haven of heaven, so fair.
But most of all, I’ll see Your face, oh Lord
for none other can compare, on earth or above
then I’ll fall on Your feet, with worship unending
‘til You gather me into Your arms of Love.
I fell in love with a Drunken Poet
When with light My Grail He fills
Lyrical Creativity intercourse with pen and paper spill
With Rhymes and reasons salutations
Filled so full, Colorful My imagination
Drunken poetry obliteration
He drinks sooo much, his touch Intoxicating
Slurry words with breath of sweet Rum
Penetrating and Pouring light until I succumb
He woos with words and stirs Me up
I have gotten addicted to his Liqueur syrup
Transporting my mind to Celestial Bliss
Overflowing with every Drunken Kiss
Drunk in Love, my heart Enshrined
Top shelf Libation pours, He wants me to Shine
He slurred" let go baby, I'm yours, You're mine"
I got sooo drunk, couldn't hold My liquor
Fondled My Pen, vomit on paper
He slurred, " Go on baby, it's best for your liver"
Now my speech is liquored sweet ingredients to my potion
Drunken poetry creative recreation.
Shout out to Elliott Bowe>>>creator of drunken poetry.
City hub on wings
apogee of ultra bright
fire within urban comet
tangerine signpost
to future halcyon spot
amidst buoyant step onrush
Bouncy castle perk
spurs avid market stall pitch
bargain in a jiffy bag
loophole hatched off-curb
brainwave surge from genie flash
to everyone’s benefit
Silver winter tinged
trees and wet overcast skies
never dampen township verve
that heartland zeitgeist
typical of boom and bloom
day or night march on dweller
Sweep off feet vision
endemic to rapid shifts
where marvel woos miracle
in heady cocktail
at the cutting-edge hubbub
point of entry upbeat frame
we ask for his word
although he is wayward
it matters not to us
if his actions are untoward
the play is enacted
in as is ordained
love woos love
till love is ingrained
Moments before lower mind drifts into sleep,
awareness self-aware, in the vast bardo,
sans identity, as pristine soul presence,
woos the universe to infuse magnetism
within our childlike heart, yearning for God’s touch.
embrace of space
caress of silence
woos us to awake
from deep trance
that we sing a verse
inspired by the universe
to do so requires
that ego identity shorn
we become twice born
becoming the flow of life
mindfully inking with joy
the screen of awareness
which we are
The Love of God which woos my soul
An upwards gaze, eternal goal
His love breaks forth at break of day
The light of love on life's pathway
He woos my soul and fills my heart
His Song of Love will not depart
Abba, Father, Your Loving Hands
Lifting to life from dying lands
You are the Lord Who woos my soul,
You are my Hope's eternal goal
It was You Lord, all along
In perfect Love and sweetest song
Darkest nights will pass away
Your mercies renewed every day
Your Love dear Jesus, woos my soul
Your love, my King, my upwards goal
Oh, ever be my upwards gaze,
Your precious love, amazing grace
A lot I could say about my bookshelf:
In a way like my half-understood self.
A first-time user should seek my half help
Against a blind book search and its yelp!
Supports the cruel weight of three thousand books:
Fat ones except Camus’ that it brooks,
Golding’s moderate-sized up to ten
And Hemingway’s made to stand like brave men!
Wood that clearly woos the works of laureates,
Notwithstanding, kept spaces for Harriet’s,
Able to secure them from clinched finesse;
Never much in shelf owner’s non meanness…
Shelf that says ‘Yes’ too to Science Fiction
The Best-Sellers for their winsome diction;
War novels that claimed a whole compartment
Some headache to Romance Apartment…
Then, Travels and Autobiographies:
Fine ones picturing Great Lives like trophies;
Frame that made sure it quartered the classic
For to have not done so the Quite Sick…
The flawless apt I want to often lick
And side-talks suppress in South Africa’s click;
The brownish shelf as tall as Hulk Hogan
Had my body organs joined as organ.
The sun is illustrated in pastel hues
washed in a watery light
Mild is the air in my mouth
Standing at the roadside
of a flock of honking family vehicles
I wonder if they are going to church
or leaving church
It's Sunday morning
in the burb's and naturally
God has His hands full
I go visit a little pond
where frogs sing their
creaking love-woos
to lure green lovers
up from the muddy bottom
For a meditative moment
we join in prayer
I bought a Martha Stewart pan and liked it very well
now for my cooking needs I have ten or twelve
I used to drive a big old Ford Galaxy it was colored brown
now I have a green Chevy truck to get around
Once I only drank Coca Cola to cool me down
now a Pepsi even RC my thrust to drown
Blue jeans were all I wore that was a fact
now I am more comfortable in a pair of slacks
Once I always slept in PJ's to dream the night away
now in loose t-shirt and boxers on slumber's sleigh
I once watch network television for shows and news
now its all streaming for entertainment woos
I used to pray at night before I went to sleep
now I pray anytime of the day or week
The more things change they really do
but the one constant I keep as I love you.
Sing me a song about September.
She warms me like a blanket.
She fits me like a glove.
Sing me a song about September.
She flies in gently like a dove,
offering cool-downs for heated souls.
Sing me a song about September.
She woos me with the sound of her name.
She neither burns nor freezes, but warms me.
Sing me a song about September.
She cannot guarantee the end of droughts,
but waves goodbye to the tortures of Summer.
Sing me a song about September.
Let her lyrics be bathed in pleasantries.
Let her tone be soothing, calming, serene.
090122PS
Related Poems