No, Guess I Musta Followed Peter Pan

Cheeky Missy



You know?
 
I Wonder If I Ever Grew Up
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXXXI)
 
 
Drag me frae bed for Barry's: to avail
The soul with tea's the cure, as shortbread thence
Melts in my mouth and steam wafts up, a sense
Of years since perished in those tendrils' frail
Sweet aerie dance to heavn, where calm'd prevail
And Sunday seems at rest likeas fr'intents
They used to teach us we should be, as whence
Thinks that it knows what lies ahead, sans bail.
Cook up, yes, Friday's porridge, adding fer
All that both butter, sugar, cinn'mon too,
Like Mum did with our leftoers when as t'were
We kids could not e'en dream of now. I do
Not, nor have had a vision to bestir
For five years hence. Oh LORD, we wait for You.
 
01Jun25a
 
I am.
 
Tell Monday I'm Too Busy
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXXXIII)
 
 
Where DID dawn's romance go, or which detail
Left me without? I watched night's velvet, dense
Sheer black yield to the warming thought of whence,
And had the kettle on for Barry's hale
Recure ere aught else could reply t'avail,
With yes, a thousand plans. Oh sweet defense!
Steam whiffs likeas sheer ghosts whose dance would thence
Elude me, rise where my head's turned sans bail.
Great Grampa Drysdale's sense could not endure
The odours of spaghetti sauce they'd brew
Fresh in their basement, the old country's tour
Of pure Italian food beyond him, too
Much for the farm boy's Scottish roots as twere,
Was it? So I kin skip that likewise. You?
 
02Jun25a
 
Oh, I do!
 
Wish You Were Here, I Do!
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCXXXIV)
 
 
Cut scallions, crush the garlic til the scents
Of olive oil, tomato sauce and thyme avail,
For fresh mar'nara sauce, french toast to scale
Our breakfast 'gain with bacon--a light sense
Of grand repast; The Office too, fr'intents,
The sauce left cooling while we watch, the tale
Of scallions why I'll blender aught detail,
And oh! to dip the bread cheese in from hence!
Mar'nara sauce my fav'rite oh! bestir
This fresh, til what aromas waft and woo!
If only Cynthya were here--she'd as t'were
Love all these tasty odours, and food too.
Jar up the batch with dreams packed in--is't poor?
Oh LORD, redeem us now, for we wait You.
 
02Jun25b
  • Author: Chic George (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 9th, 2025 10:29
  • Comment from author about the poem: Or, isn't it just this Generation X perspective? Enjoy?
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 9
  • Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
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Comments +

Comments4

  • Tony36

    Love it

    • Cheeky Missy

      Yay! Thank you!!!

      • Tony36

        You're welcome

      • sorenbarrett

        The use of so many aromas and tastes is a pleasant and refreshing change from most poetry that capitalizes on vision and hearing maybe touch. Lovely

      • Poetic Licence

        What a lovely mix if tastes and aromas slowing drifting the writes, gets your taste buds going, enjoyed the reads

        • Cheeky Missy

          Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! You're too kind.

          • Poetic Licence

            You are very welcome

          • Doggerel Dave

            Wot only three? Too much food slowed you down? Was almost nearly a breakfast substitute for me, so thanks for that - I may be still able to fit into my trousers, as while tucker (food) transmitted via the 'net can be enticing, It hasn't the same calorific burden as the contents of my own fridge.

            • Cheeky Missy

              Hahaha! You're too fun!!! Thank you very much!



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