Once Upon The End of-- and...!

Cheeky Missy



You know?
 
Once Upon the End of May
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXVII)
 
 
How sweetest scents waft on the breeze exhale
T'intoxcate, lilac bushes with a sense
Of Mother's Day since passed and romance hence,
Rain's fragile note yet ling'ring on the trail,
As songs from ev'ry quarter lilt t'avail;
Hear neighbors talking of being stranded, whence?
But "...Alabama for three days" like thence
They're glad to be home. Then which detail?
Sip Barry's in the murky light as t'were
Of nary dawn for rain late passing through,
And twa days of perfumes upon the pure
Winds begs that I indulge, yet briefly too,
And how this dream called life is transient. Stir
In us to seek Thy face, LORD, and wait You.
 
25May25a
 
I have. And you?
 
Oh, I've Been Everywhere In Poetry
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXVIII)
 
 
How golden hours sift through their paces hence
Fraught with but little seeming care to scale,
These rolling slopes of grass so green as frail
Grey shadows stretch their lengths in faint suspense
Across the naked pavement, blue skies thence
With whiter cloudbanks' rumpled cast' detail
To fringe the distance, sparrows tease t'avail
Somewhere within the firs, joys haunting whence.
If I were as alone as I in tour
Half seem, what is the notion begging to
Indulge itself? Why do I 
want as t'were
To sing? White clouds so brilliant wait anew,
And winds own teasing coolness. Oh bestir
Thy mercies new each morning, LORD, won't You?
 
25May25b
 
Won't you, reader?
 
Come Sit A Spell Now, Eh?
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXIX)
 
 
Tis Summer ev'nings lazy shadows hale
And golden shafts pierce through, gilt leaves from thence
In tow, I've cherished since my childhood, whence
How these anew  wake me as they avail,
Calm sweetly on the tender breezes' trail
Rare voices pierce, the goldfinch distant hence,
And skies so purely blue the cloudbanks fence
Afar off, what is left, but to exhale?
Write ere the darkness swallow all in tour,
Yet oh, the peaceful sense which'd ver'ly woo!
How goldfinch laugh in passing, and few stir;
From Palgrave'sTreas'ry, to the poets who
Both filled his pages or did not as t'were,
I gain perspective. LORD, save us, won't You?
 
25May25c
 
[My mother's father a Navy man, my father's dad in the Army.]
 
Both My Grandfathers Were In the Military
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXX)
 
 
The lilacs are 'most perished, yet how scents
Waft sweetest odours on the wind's exhale
As if to give May's final hours' detail
What shall redeem or soften sorrow's sense
Whilst June gears up to party, grass from hence
Half weary in this brazen light and frail
Green, as the dove calls likeas to avail,
And hol'day means I'm off, without defense.
One final pizza left for this grand tour
Of lo, Memor'al Day, no salads to
Accomp'ny, and what's missing? Twas as t'were
Too perfect Sat'day night, war mem'ries through
The hours for our remembrance, til what's poor
Is how we do not cry, oh LORD, for You.
 
26May25
 
...almond?
 
In What Kind of Nutshell, Eh?
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXXI)
 
 
My oldest brother's birthday and the tail
End of this month, where lilacs tease with scents
If you but yield to such perfumes, ah, whence?
Back in good time except I drop t'avail
By Robert's first, to pick up foodstuffs, frail
As aught 'scuse, lo, forget um, Starbucks, thence
To go back out, car washed, to learn fr'intents
Their Blackb'rry Sage is NOT, or lacking bail.
For all the rec'pes wanting guac as t'were--
Av'cado--now we've some. and ornges too,
Ornge juice and salads. If I'm too tired, fer
The work oernight I did, guess nothing's new.
Rain promised after dark, lunch huge in poor
'Scuse, Tuesday's not a wash...LORD, I need You.
 
27May25
 
...ahem.
 
If Only I Didn't Wake So Early
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXXII)
 
 
Rain, like a balm to solace in a sense
The soul, falls softly in the fragile scale
Of light where dawn is not, those footsteps' hale
Tread in the thought of yonder like defense,
As nightmares sift off in the ghost of hence,
And morning too dim for no lights' detail,
Though I sip Barry's in such, like t'avail
Is too much, steamy comfort whisp'ring thence.
Tell Cynthya she kin call; craft 
breakfast fer
Us sans her, while discussing how we two
Miss hanging out, to leave off after tour
Of Scriptures, bacon, eggs and Kringle too,
With applesauce, pineapple, cott'ge cheese--were
There else? yes, porridge. LORD, we wait on You.
 
28May25a
 
Sweet, transient days!
 
Oh, But These Are The Days
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXXIII)
 
 
Sweet Summer nights where childrens' voices hail
Through golden hours with happy cries, a sense
Of all we cherished in such notes, as thence
How sparrows gaily chatter, aught detail
So full of joy, kids' shouts like cheery bail,
As if our own youth was not perished, whence
Hark as they play, ere nightfall swallow hence
All that we knew, and nary voice avail.
I walk the twa blocks to my car in tour
As gloaming's calm leaves only robins to
Tie up the day we had, sheer silence fer
The darkness sifting through this weighty cue
Like all are gone to bed where I in poor
Reply must be awake. LORD, I'd praise You.
 
28May25b
  • Author: Chic George (Pseudonym) (Online Online)
  • Published: June 7th, 2025 10:04
  • Comment from author about the poem: So anyway. Enjoy!
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 1
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