Cheeky Missy
Doesn\'t Really Matter, Does It?
...but don\'t ask me what.
I Used To Know, Methinks
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCXXIII)
Ice robes all in a dense shell, til the trail
To whither e\'en the geese maunt tread, whilst thence
We try, since there\'s no help for it, as hence
Spring shows that treach\'ry none likes. Sirens wail,
A note of mis\'ry in that note\'s detail,
All \'round encased, and I\'ve forgott\'n fr\'intents
The fun at Starbucks in the face of whence,
Where joys don\'t hide, yet what\'d anon avail?
Why does a lull\'by \'gin to lilt as t\'were
Within mine fogged head now? There\'s werk to do.
Get going and how lo, the hours in tour
Are gone as sundown edges nigh, the view
Sans ice, perhaps for sunny hours\' recure,
As LORD, we fail, yet Thou art faithful: You.
06Feb25a
...so much for that, haha.
I Said I Was Bedding Down Early
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMXXIV)
Lamb strog\'noff with whole shrooms, like for intents
Th\'occasion calls for it, yet that detail
Is not, and it\'s just us. Dear grandeur, hail
Fine spec\'mens where none see nor know? Pretense
Is fast asleep, the vaunted pleasures hence
Nigh wasted, though I cherish like t\'avail
Lo, ev\'ry bite; and how day trickles pale
Last minutes through, where nightfall beckons. Whence?
Oh! but I\'m so fatigued! Plan fin\'lly to
Sleep through THIS night, for once, but that is poor.
Called in ere midnight, what was Thursday, fer
All that? I could not nap, yet cooked like
through
Effect twas grand, and oh! Whole shrooms! Bestir
Ne odes, but I do love me shrooms. And you?
06Feb25b
I mean, I Can\'t Believe It\'s Friday.
My Week Is Upside Down, I Swear
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMXXV)
No pink frae here, just sapphire blue\'s detail
Where I yawn, wanting not so much from hence
For dawn, but leaving for elsewhere, suspense
Not for the morning but the unknown, frail
As aught \'scuse; if dawn\'s absent, what\'d avail?
Call Cynthya for the drive, and hanging thence
Out for nigh twa hours passes time fr\'intents,
Til work calls \'gain where blank heavns watch the trail.
He asks about the sun, and I in poor
\'Scuse saw the ghost of warming shafts, nor blue
Skies, though day seemed to lighten. Nightfall\'d stir
Whenas I\'m fin\'lly off; no food all through
Long hours the minutes sleep off as it were,
And turns out I kin fast?! LORD, I\'d praise You.
07Feb25