Try Telling Another Poet Poem, by Chic George, at My poetic side

...who coulda guessed?

And to Think He Is a Poet Too

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCCLI)

Quip "Happy May day!" to learn that detail

Of ribbons and a party 'round fr'intents

The maypole will not do e'en in pretense,

Cuz he was born in June. Like to avail

Us of sich joys...?! or was there more in frail

Excuse that I'd miss where he'd answer thence

So oddly? Shall we ever meet 'gain? whence

Shelve this til later, and then whither's bail?

Rain falls in torrents like the storm in tour

Would shut aught down, yet nothing flickers through

Its rampage. Drive home as it lingers, stir

Both cleaning and our breakfast til maunt do

And I yield up to napping; maint'nence cure

All problems til what's left is to seek You.

01May25a

...on love and romance.

Don't Look at Me, I'm Drunk

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCCLII)

Frogs chorus in the darkness sweetest scents

Waft through as if romance owns aught detail

Now tis May first, oh me! Just to inhale

Is to cull swooning til I've no defense

Where night'd intox'cate in a trice, good sense

As wont in lover's trysts quite perished, frail

Though aught 'scuse when you've nary hope t'avail

Upon the clock--is't lilacs?! or what hence?

Eat salad after hours, "spring mix" as t'were

With olives, shrooms, tomatoes, onions, to

Effect a treat, potato chips to cure

Aught cravings, what I want is to yield 'new

Where romance tugs upon my sleeve: is't poor?

Were not sweet odours meant to thereby woo?

01May25b

Try Telling Another Poet