M'hm, I'm so sure.
At Last, Or, What Was That Again?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXIII)
Oh, Sunday! How the highway like t'avail
Is fairly clear, til I'm back home fr'intents
Ere aught seem rustling, putting on from hence
The kettle in good time, where aught detail
Hangs in suspense or else looks grey sans bail,
As grey as region clouds whose racks are dense
And low'ring with forbidding import thence
In lieu of dawn, as rain is forecast, hale.
Yet nary downpour to reward as twere
Fond hopes of catching sleep ere nightfall; do
The math and figure it could not in tour
Be elsewise. Let the kittens lap anew
Our milk with cer'al ere we eat--is't poor?
And then lie down; LORD, let us e'er seek You.
06Jul25a
Panera's ads are too appealing, you know?
That's Fine: I'll Pull Italian Myself
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXIV)
Set an alarm for lunch like tis defense:
Cuke sandwich and a salad's bail,
Else how shall I remember in to scale
The flurry of today? One cuke fr'intents,
Sliced gouda, and we're off like old times thence
Coud be revived is that? And oh! To avail
We've Her'tage Greens for salad, that detail
Yes, tops. Sliced carrots, onion, all from hence
With olive oil, balsamic vin'gar fer
Our dressing, oh! But this seems grand anew.
I guess it rains lo, after, but as twere
Is what I needed for dear sleep, the crew
Of puddles haunting ev'ning what'd bestir
That notice. LORD, let us anon praise You.
06Jul25b
Truly.
I Never Knew Life Could Be So
Fun
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXV)
Who joins me in the greyish light t'avail
Of dawn, like waking's sluggish thence
And they'll be patient? Oh what sweet defense!
Whenas I wanted cats come, this detail
Did not occur to me as what to scale
Must follow, darling playmates with a sense
Of what is, far beyond their age fr'intents,
Companions past my wildest dreams for bail.
So, I've two melons and a cabbage too,
Three heads chopped up like that is good as t'were,
The watermelon in a bag like that will do,
And like the rest, French toast our fare in tour,
Canad'an bacon nestled twixt the two
Warm slices, and LORD, let us hear Thy Word.
07Jul25a
Please.
Just Don't Let Anyone Roll in Her Grave
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXVI)
Two things Mum asked I'd keep, like in defense
Of all held dear: the armchair whose detail
In eighties style earned it the name t'avail
Of lo, "the flowr chair," its companion thence
Her mother's coffee table. Nary sense
Of kittens hinted, and now what? They'd hail
Both as theirs now, free reign what'd yield them bail
And where I mull what 'zactly? Is't pretense?
Would her mom kill me cuz they walk in tour
All oer her table, mincing as they do,
And checking out our meals served on't? Is't poor?
Whileas the chair we all grew up in, who
Ne'er dreamed a kitten'd love it, what as twere
Is left to think? LORD, save us all, won't You?
07Jul25b
...for $50K.
Selective Search Is Interested--
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXVII)
Lo, guys prefer girls with health problems, frail
And with all hopes foresworn, without defense,
Nor with aught dreams of romance, that pretense
For others like myself whose only bail
In that regard is headless and, t'avail
Termed "mists," as if the marriage I'd seen thence
So sweetly modeled by my parents hence
Could never be except in what must fail.
Oh, I have allergies and genes in tour
Which leave me crumbling ere I can review
The world and life I've lived from what as t'were
Is called "retirement," or aught safety. Do
The math to figure out that nothing'd stir
In love's forever 'cept...LORD, I need You.
07Jul25c
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Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: July 13th, 2025 10:02
- Comment from author about the poem: Nevermind me. Anyway, enjoy?!
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Online)
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