...And Don't Forget the Eggnog
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMII)
Thanksgiving meant a turkey, stuffing thence
Inside and out, with gravy too, the tale
Of green beans, mashies, cranb'rries cooked for bail
Until they popped, with cranb'rry velvet's sense
For aught else, sweet potatoes, olives dense
With finger fun, and rolls I baked t'avail,
The actual dinner late, with cass'role's hale
Solution for the end bits, sweet defense.
Yes, pumpkin pie was Grampa's rec'pe, pure
Home crafted whipped cream dolloped on it too,
With not much else but love, til twas as t'were
No more. And I've not known it since. The crew
Of styles since then are NOT Thanksgiving. Stir
But mem'ries in the wilderness, will you?
29Nov24a
I know it's downright terrible, but the holiday was defined by home... and to enable me to bear it, I've put it all behind me. Yet, trying to join society,...
I Miss My Parents Now, I Do
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMIII)
Why do the Colorado prairies hail
When I think of "Thanksgiving Day" for sense?
Did life stop there, more than how many dense
Brief years 'go? thirty eight since that detail?
My photographic mind snapped all t'avail,
And shelved it 'gainst which future day fr'intents?
I wanted wine, though but a child, pretense
What drew up visions like more could own bail.
If now I'd rather work cuz all's lost to
The dogs and ravages of time, is't poor?
I've nothing left to cling to, as it were,
Except the Scriptures. Aught we ere then knew,
Like childhood, is long gone. Steak now in tour,
And deserts I ne'er dreamed of-- I'll seek You.
29Nov24b
Whatdya know?
Quip, "Here We Go Again," Eh?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMIV)
Pink smudges on the East long after sense
Was on its toes and I upon, t'avail,
The clock, I'd NOT warm til three hours sans bail
Passed, frozen to my toes til in defense
The sun now blinds me. Nary telly hence
Tae drive sense out of count'nance, which detail?
Dark choc'late pieces, pie, dip, porridge'd hail,
With coffee from my birthday like what thence?
I am a wreck? The wind comes like as t'were
A guest, just as John Clare wrote ere, thin blue
Skies fraught with streaky clouds, trees naked fer
Effect as how November's last day, through
Ole Winter, looks as wont. Blue shadows cure
The golden light as, LORD, all wait on You.
30Nov24a
The plaguey queries which could not be satisfied have nagged on me to pen the answer now for lo, a week. Ergo....
My Business Is MY Bus'ness, Thanky
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMMV)
At least lo, I could get his answer, frail
As all the sheer mystique and keen pretense.
Twas as expected, like the novels hence
All told us, guard posts set along the trail
To turn lives inside out, as such derail
Our peace of mind and private lives, defense
Flown on the wings of whom, or what, fr'intents?
I'll not abide yer int'rest, nor avail.
He was too nice where I am leery. Were
There just cause? NONE. They had fun with him, too.
But I had more. And no, we'll not meet fer
All that agin, that I know. We'd review
And laugh, then part ways; wave "Bye!" and in tour:
"That's all for now, folks!" Oh, all that we knew.
30Nov24b
-
Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 30th, 2024 11:13
- Comment from author about the poem: I'm uncertain what more to add...except I wish I could post two videos, but who really cares? The WNIU dj mentioning it's Saint Andrew's Day "...if you're Scottish--" I guess it added to the impetus. That, and I'm finally for the moment not in impossible pain. Enjoy? Oh, but it's a gorgeous early winter day!
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments9
Och, good write wee lassie!
Thanky kindly, good Sir.
Good acting by me innit - or am I Scottish?! heehee.
Ah couldn't guess.
What a delicious first poem it got my saliva flowing and made me hungry even though I just had dinner. A fun read all the way around from first poem till last.
Take it easy, Missy. Don't overdo it. Not sure I'll ever feel hungry again.....
Haha.
Powerful work. I am Scottish, about 23 percent lol.
Ooh! We Americans are generally some percentage Scottish, seems, being 50% meself.... Lovely! Thank you.
Wonderful write.Not only do I have Scottish in me, I have been to Scotland! Wonderful time I had there and a wonderful time I've had reading your sonnets! As for the impossible pain your are feeling, I am glad you have temporary relief and sorry to hear of this. 🙏❤️ As for your sonnets 🌹🌹🌹🌹👏👏👏👏
While they've essays replete with the ills of cellphones and how to rectify your existence, I must add to that the drawbacks of much driving, throwing in a heavy dash of stress, and label it the likely recipe for my late miseries. That's cool you've actually been to our ancestral stomping grounds; one of my brothers took his wife there one year. Guess I'll continue to resort to Kidnapped and modern pieces from there for myself. Thank you very much for commenting, and your kindness.
Thank you Missy for beautiful music and video from Scotland for St Andrew’s day, plus your four well penned sonnets. Your Thanksgiving feast had my mouth watering. Sadly on special days we do miss our parent so. My parents lived in Bathgate in Scotland for three years. Such a welcoming country. Fond memories have drifted back.
Thank you very much, dear lady, for your kind comment and comprehension. Guess there's nothing quite like home without our parents.
All my senses are replete .. Neville
Thank you, Sir. Glad to hear it.
So sorry to learn of your pain - tis a sad world in which people suffer but pleased you are okak at the momoent [ a real feast of a write - keep the pen going.
Thank you so very much, Sir!
impressed by the lengthy and descriptive output - and wishing you peace of mind, and happiness in the days to come - hope the new year brings fresh new tidings
Thank you, Madam. You likewise. [Yet, I fail to see what "new tidings" would be worthwhile.]
the suspense is the fun - wait and watch - and wish for the moon, a shooting star will surely land in your lap - all the best
You're too sweet! I hope all the best for you.
wow, thank you dear
i wish the same for you
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