Cheeky Missy
Why Mulling THIS on Thursday? with If Only I Could Be a Shepardess, and lastly, It Used To Be the Day I\'d Don PINK
I \"tweeted\" this long ago, and finally was too tempted and yielded, putting the details in a sonnet. Enjoy?
Why Mulling THIS on Thursday?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMDCCCLIV)
So, I was blonde til five years old, t\'avail
Born on a Wednesday with lo, eyes fr\'intents
Not brown, but hazel, and the foibles thence
Of such are mine, forsooth, where that detail
Of late November for my birthday\'d hail
Who cares what; and then if fair pretense
Would take a bow, I\'ll call me vanquished hence?
Or now admit I am not special. Bail?
If only I might be as all of Your
Most faithful servants, LORD, nor allus rue
My choices, words, and aught else as too poor.
If only I might see Your face as due:
With joy. Fill my mouth with Thy praise and stir
In me to do Thy will, my God, of You.
05Sep24
...like my Great Grandma used to be, funny, penned this on her late daughter\'s birthday; notice the play on J.S. Bach?!
If Only I Could Be a Shepherdess
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMDCCCLXIII)
Where geese may safely graze, how I\'d avail
Me, now grey shadows haunt the light for sense,
Of naked woods whose fingers rattle hence
To purpose, dead leaves underfoot, the trail
With musty odours wafting up t\'inhale,
As whispers from beyond tug on, fr\'intents
My sleeve, as if the dead would warn me thence
Of yonder: how I\'d wander there like\'s bail.
Recall the hours we used to spend in tour
Thus, and the scenes I cherished, for they\'d woo;
And guess I\'ll not do that agin--is\'t poor?
For whither shall I find such to pass through
These days? My life\'s a wreck. Oh LORD, bestir
Lo, Thy salvation, for I\'ve naught but You.
10Sep24b
Ahem. So, uncharacteristically, I\'ve been wearing BLACK since Sunday.
It Used To Be the Day I Would Don PINK
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMDCCCLXIV)
I\'ve suffered lo, sich nightmares...which detail?
All are at night. Dead spider floating thence
On dead dishwater, dream tis HUGE, from hence
About to kill me with one bite--avail
Me how?! Oh, my alarm went off; in frail
Excuse, the real ones haunt me til what sense
Remains is huddled in a corner. Whence?
Go figure. I dunno. Come, where is bail?
Sip Barry\'s with a wedge of brie in tour,
On tenterhooks cuz I don\'t know what\'s true
Is it? Or what shall be. Swear that is poor
Cuz lo, I have the Scriptures. Well, I knew,
And now why can\'t I see ahead? Bestir
In me to know, oh LORD. I wait on You.
11Sep24a