Cheeky Missy
There\'s a Reason, But I Don\'t Know What It is, Stupidly
I had different lines for this than these.
When I\'m Not Yet Awake As T\'were
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMXXVIII)
The LORD sent Jeremiah for intents
Unto the potter\'s, to behold t\'avail
How lo, the work he wrought, when marred to scale,
He just redid upon the wheel, as thence
He does with nations, and with us from hence?
Mum\'s pot, not with dried peels whose orange detail
Would yield fine scents ere, but mere lids, in frail
\'Scuse dredges up that sight we watched, til whence?
What am I s\'posed to know, whenas in tour
I see \'gain how his moist hands shaped sans cue
The lump of clay wrought on his wheel? Was\'t poor
Dreams tricked out my brief hours likeas tae woo
This spread I cherish? Now ills would bestir
Til I cry unto Thee, what should I do?
09Feb25a
...I\'m still refusing to accept \"checkmate.\"
Boredom Invited Me To A Round of Chess
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMXXIX)
No slice of Kringle nor half paczki hail
To join cold coffee, since I\'d not what thence?
Could not decide which one, forgot, and hence
Forego th\'indulgence. Don\'t find out in frail
Excuse until I\'m setting up sans bail
At work, and whither? Sweetened Cheer\'os\' sense
Will do now in a trice, until pretense
Would gnash its teeth whenas these too avail.
The rain gauge absent, bring the tube in fer
All that, to wonder; region clouds\' grey blue
Evince naught as, my party set up, we\'re
Late rolling. What gives? Dearest me, where to?
Lo, tis the freighted Superbowl day. Stir
Life elsewhere? Ha, we\'re doomed. LORD, I wait You.
09Feb25b
...that\'s safely grazing.
It\'s Not Bach\'s Sheep, But A Doe
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMXXX)
They\'ve asked too many times; I don\'t know whence,
But it is not mid morning, and, in frail
Reply, that Philly Cheesesteak seems t\'avail
Quite nicely, thank you. I\'ve just \'nough sleep hence
Beneath my belt I\'m chafing at what thence?
Go figure. I read Shakespeare, likeas bail,
And Wyatt, Surrey, unknown poets\' tale
Of woe, erm, yesterday, like in defense.
No sky \'cept region clouds, and yet in tour
The sun blinds me by piercing subtly through
As if t\'espy with nary comment. Poor
Though looking back, I maunt help but to do
So, Spring \'non working in plain view, astir
On all sides while, oh LORD, how I\'d wait You.
09Feb25c
...in six mere months.
I Just Realized I\'ll Miss Today
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMXXXI)
Of ginger snaps and Nilla Wafers\' trail
From childhood to today, of deer which thence
Half seem but sent to answer me fr\'intents,
Of naked trees in vast array, or frail
And lonely, waiting, region clouds\' detail
Which Shakespeare oft deplored, of Spring mair dense
In hope than else now sweetly like defense
Lo, tricking out the hours, how thus avail?
Is\'t emu grazing just beyond me, poor
As such weird sights? A kitten, startled, to
Effect plays with whose heart for Feb\'ry\'s tour?
If Steven Ridley is for real, how much is true?
If I\'m the snap and she\'s the Nilla, stir
What, eh, where Sunday\'s all as we wait You?
09Feb25d
...or feel half like when I was still safe in my loving father\'s house.
Sometimes Yer Almost Back Home
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMXXXII)
Tis Nash\'nal Pizza Day, and we\'ve fr\'intents
Some minis likeas needed to avail;
Five hours left on the clock til that detail,
How afternoon is early Spring whose sense
Of hope in teasing sunlight sifts through hence
As erst wont on the wings of heavn\'s eye, pale,
Then blinding me, until I see the trail
Is longer than impatience likes from thence.
Deer graze beyond my window, so close we\'re
Nigh rubbing shoulders, skittish \'neath cleared blue
Heavns, til I can\'t but smile and thank Thee, poor
Though drowning ere, to see what matters: to
Behold Thy glory and be with Thee. Stir
In us to hear Thy voice, LORD, and wait You.
09Feb25e