Cheeky Missy

A Study in Muddled Colours

...cuz I\'ll not tell.
 
Ask Not How I Ended Up Here
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCLXVIII)
 
 
A Wednesday\'s child by birth, blue violet thence
As well, kin I somehow restore t\'avail
This flowr to what is, not the wicked\'s scale
Of worth? By nature in the shadows, sign fr\'intents
Of sorrow as the ancients wrote, its sense
Is mine in ev\'ry part. Erst wont to hail
Those smiling faces lost amongst the tale 
Of deeper grasses called the lawn, ah whence?
\"All flesh is grass--\" lost in the masses fer
A\' that, my lot is not to be in view
\'Cept for the rarer ones who\'d see as t\'were:
Most trample violets underfoot. The few
Shall know, and what is left? Wee faces stir
But little to the winds--LORD, I\'d see You.
 
04Apr25b
 
You know? 
 
It\'s Like I Truly Never Dreamed
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCLXIX)
 
 
Now after lo, how many years? Avail
Me of Mum\'s kitchen pieces, with a sense
I am not worthy. Mini cupcakes hence?
The dream is shattered. I don\'t chase its tail,
\'Cept to be quite chagrined. As if all\'d fail,
What am I doing now with these? And whence?
Not \'llowed to use all \'gain til I know thence
The LORD is God and I\'ve no other bail?
Come, finger aught with rev\'rence as it were,
The meas\'ring cups I knew, the pot, pan too,
Her rolling pin I cherished--mine in tour
Again, not any stranger\'s?! Why me? Do
I have a leg to stand on? What\'d bestir?
Oh LORD, I am confused. Let me wait You.
 
04Apr25c
 
...what lies 
 
Sometimes Tis Better To Not Know
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCLXX)
 
 
Locked out and stranded as frogs chorus, whence?
But trek back all the way on foot, th\'all hail
Of plovers for my comfort, is\'t? The trail
None else tread, how I feel without defense.
Come, did the fox which ran across sans sense
The road just \'fore I got here get in frail 
\'Scuse hit...by me?! I don\'t do that! Avail
Me of aught hope now all seems lost--pretense?
Twa doughnuts left seem nice, is joy as t\'were
Not fully taen from me? With earmuffs to
Warm mine since walking in the rain, is\'t poor
To \'non rejoice in Thy great mercies too?
That nightmare \'fore I woke still haunts in tour,
Yet if Thou, LORD, save me, what need I? You.
 
04Apr25d