Cheeky Missy

Yesteryear, Blame Games and FUN

Haha?
 
How To Eclipse What Came Before
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDLXVI)
 
 
Don\'t wake the dead. But lo, all sleep from hence?
Come home. Dead silence greets my entrance, frail
As thinking twas not early to avail
Us of...is\'t breakfast? Put all \'way, to thence
Put on the kettle for dear Barry\'s, sense
Aware their bowls need cleaning, that detail
For later, no? Now they\'re up, have I bail?
One cuppa, then fresh food and water, whence?
They nibble at the shortbread for as t\'were
A moment, is\'t? Eat their own food like to
Effect it truly is good. Then in tour
Our breakfast, where his bacon is their cue
To check our plates out, Helen Keller\'s cure
For mealtimes ours?! Oh LORD, we wait on You.
 
16Jun25a
 
Okay?
 
Don\'t Ask Me What, Again?
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDLXVII)
 
 
I had no time t\'observe dawn, aught detail
In that regard lost to the job til thence
Lo, I was free.  Now tis the fourth day, whence?
But see them sync themselves like to avail
Unto our rhythms. For if aught sleep, then they\'ll
Heed who\'s awake; he sez they climb fr\'intents
The screen to get attention is\'t? Their sense
Of ours so keen, we\'ll all traipse down the trail.
My friend said they would love to munch as twere
Oatgrass, but Tigger takes blades from me, to
Drop them upon the floor, like, guess that\'s poor?
And catnip is for other cats: these two
Don\'t mind nor else subscribe to that allure.
We\'re having fun, I\'m sure. LORD, save us too.
 
16Jun25b
 
We are.
 
Oh Yes, We\'re Having FUN
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDLXVIII)
 
 
Have they been up all night?! Now I\'ve defense
And fin\'lly sleep at night, twas odd? Who\'d hail
Me ere I\'m fully waked? Why\'d litter trail
Itself all oer until tis sandy sans defense
Indoors? Why\'s it her playpen? Where\'s good sense?
Go off to text my best friend, and t\'avail
How Tigger sneaks up on me like to fail
To join the others truly is pretense.
Who left the bodywash and lotion fer
All that askew? They\'re learning to eat through
Our presence in the kitchen. Toys as t\'were,
From string to catnip furries, will not do,
Or else are late esteemed as rather poor;
Til, how shall we converse? LORD, we wait You.
 
17Jun25a
 
[He\'s become acutely sensitive since this event.]
 
My Baby Blames Himself?!
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDLXIX)
 
He sez that Peter looks most like to scale
His wilder parents, though my baby\'s thence
A sweetheart with his sister, til from hence
I am distraught because I stepped sans bail
On him, who slunk off sans a cry in frail
\'Scuse, and would not respond to me, suspense
Mair cruel now that I mourn the deed, and whence
The darker in the light of that detail.
They love to play at tag and chase in tour
Each other, bouncing off the walls like two
Small kids at play--oh how I love them! Were
There else, they try our food t\'approve and too
Indulge, or not. It\'s all so new. Bestir
Thy mercies, LORD, and save us now, won\'t You?
 
17Jun25b
 
Alas, guess I must be....old?!
 
Of Yesteryear and Summer Joys
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDLXX)
 
 
How shadows laz\'ly stretch upon these dense
Sunwashed green lawns, whose gold-kissed note\'s detail
Culls dreams, til Summer once again\'d avail
In visions only childhood cherished, whence
Behold for half a second more the sense
Of all I used to know now winking hale 
In fond hopes at me like it still owns bail,
Although the faerie dream has no defense.
Oh how I loved this season then in tour!
Because it meant no school and freedom; to
Be hot meant lo, the sprinkler, rarely fer
All that a pool; long bike rides sweetly through
Col\'rado prairies, where to be as t\'were
Grown up meant nothing. Oh LORD, I need You.
 
17Jun25c