Elsewise I'd have married and been successful, I'm certain.
I Never Have Good Timing
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXLVII)
"Just wait til June," I told me. Now t'avail
Me is a nightmare, where hope seems pretense,
And all my plans begin to search defense.
The planner is so pink for next year, fail
At finding it now tis not April, frail
As fondest mem'ries of it oh! what hence?
Come, swear that was a dream gone for intents
Long since, til I what?! Order, and I've bail?!
If only Barry's was not first as t'were.
Sip as the ghostly tendrils waft up to
Is't heavn? And set out butter for in tour
Fresh shortbread; Cheer'os with milk as we two
Work on that order, go in sideways, poor
As back doors for what? LORD, how I need You.
08Jun25a
I don't usually weep for movies.
The "Good Guys" Won At What Price?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXLVIII)
Watch Young Guns fin'lly, and what, for intents?
Weep in sheer silence as't concludes, the tale
So good I fell in love; muse on the trail?
The Wild West, false fronts, rustlers and from thence
Gun-slingers, educated and for sense
Folk who have none, boys sans a home t'avail
'Cept lo, and Englishman the Irish hail
As quite unwelcome--who's the rich from hence?!
So, Bill the Kid survived. He had to, fer
The record, yet my fav'rite actors woo
Me 'gain in scenes of bloodshed, like's not poor.
Heads roll as liquor flows, and what is new?
Th'impovrished perish as the wicked stir
All hell to trounce them. LORD, save us, won't You?
08Jun25b
Never.
Oh! But I Never Dreamed, Or?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDL)
Mist's fragile white hangs in dawns' warming sense
Of Sunday where all slumber yet, their veil
With sheer mystique cut by the light's detail
As golden shafts pierce through trees' leafy, dense
Green coverlet to finger keen suspense,
These grand estates cast all aglow t'avail,
Half breathless in sweet calm from hill to dale:
A dream of such dimensions tis pretense.
And yet it's not. Pass through as if in tour
Tis hallowed ground, so close, yet far now too,
Since I could never think to live here, poor
As loving to see all in this exquisite cue.
Oh LORD, in Thy light we see light; bestir
In us to see beyond, and unto You.
08Jun25c
Not me.
Who Thought It'd Be This Way?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDXLIX)
I saw the ghost of sweet chartreuse' detail
Upon these distant woods ere twas fr'intents
Mair than the thing itself, whileas suspense
Would trim its nails and April mulled a trail
Of jokes to fool aught. Now thet Summer's hale
Green owns all, lawns fresh trimmed, all with a sense
Of Autumn just in tow [as if!] what hence?
The marshes grass is topped by brown t'avail.
There is a note of August in the view.
And harvest will be here ere we as t'were
Are ready to give up this season we're
So fond of. Come, whilst skies are freighted blue,
What should I do t'indulge ere all's lost? Stir
In me to see Thy face, oh LORD, of You.
09Jun25a
...I do, but then I survive on tea.
Folk Swore That I Loved Coffee
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCDLI)
Oh coffee! Just a tea cup, creamed t'avail
With silky half and half, ground bits of dense
Black beans just floating for effect from hence
Upon its surface, ah! What complex trail
Of flavours tickles now my senses? Hale
In "burnt" folk say of Starbucks, yet come: whence
Do I now taste the note which Dad's brew thence
Knew as lo, "...old Italian beans" detail?
With breakfast hash and porridge on in tour
The stove, tea-lem'nade I'll quaff likewise to
Refresh that notion of chill drinks as twere;
With bacon, eggs, nect'rine and ornge tae woo
Our sense of grand repast, find notice fer
"Free" kittens to turn life 'round--LORD, of You?
09Jun25b
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Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 27th, 2025 09:04
- Comment from author about the poem: Charlie Sheen and Dermot Mulroney in the same flick with--....be still my beating heart!!! [Enjoy?!]
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
Offline)
Comments2
James bond before now billy the kid, bit of theme coming on there!!!, lovely sonnet's, enjoyed the reads
I wonder if that ghost was inspired by the feast, sometimes they come from too much of a good thing. Another set of sonnets. You have built quite a repertoire. Well done Chic.
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