...that's simply their way, isn't it?
Which Part Is Privacy?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXLI)
Ere dawn, I hear them tumbling in the frail
Half light, their games at length brought fr'intents
To us back in the bedroom, where from thence
They tumble still, yet are more tame t'avail;
Up, put the kettle on for Barry's hale
Recure, yet not til they've fresh water, whence
Sip sans a note of steam as they play hence
While I craft breakfast, and then which detail?!
Think I shall showr sans them, but, shut the door:
To find they've beat me to it, yes, the two
Of them are in the bathroom playing in tour,
As if they knew that's where I'd go. Thus rue
That and ope 'gain the door, to tape as twere
Their fun with my robe, LORD, Thy mercies new.
16Jul25a
Haha on me.
This Isn't What I Bargained For
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXLII)
"Aha, they're elsewhere; I'll be quiet hence
And shut the bathroom door ere they bewail."
Oh famous last words! Tigger's glance'd derail
That thought, and Peter's bumbling on fr'intents
The tub itself, between the curtains thence
Proves what, precisely? Guess I shan't avail
Me in a trice, nor sneak past them to scale.
But they got me, undone without defense.
Ope up the bathroom door, yet they demur
To leave. My bathrobe on the door knob too
Much fun, how they relax in play nor stir,
Til I begin to film their antics to
Send off to Cynthya to enjoy in tour.
I'll showr who knows when. LORD, how I need You.
16Jul25b
Mh'm
Don't Ask Me Now Cuz I Don't Know
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXLIII)
The ice cream treats left from the fourth's detail
Gone with the final cone I could fr'intents
Enjoy, come, shall aught rain drop by ere thence
I must return to work tonight, t'avail
A chance at sleep? Tomorrow is to scale
The day at long last for their shots, defense
And how to get them there a question hence
I hide from, e'en the thought, like hiding's bail.
French toast for breakfast cuz it's fast in tour
And easy, but which part blows up that to
Be ready for him seems to backfire? Were
There answers, what are they? What shall I do?
I do need sleep ere ev'ning, yet all's poor
And my attempts fall flat. LORD, I need You.
17Jul25a
So there, I guess.
Some Other Day All Must Improve
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXLIV)
What IS this funk which eats at me fr'intents
Til I can't even write? Make plans t'avail
Me here, or then, and all I try must fail.
I am so far behind, am struggling hence,
Have lost the spark which gives me words to fence
Each day with all I know, each last detail
What I'm allowed to live, enjoy, yet bail
For nary sonnet cuz to be is whence?
So I am living here and now. Is't poor?
The kittens are a pile of fun, we knew
That. All their antics are too cute in tour.
How Tigger likes to sit in my lap too.
But how to capture what I have as twere
Is gone from me. Oh LORD, save me, won't You?
17Jul25b
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Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: July 24th, 2025 09:56
- Comment from author about the poem: Welcome to...!!! Enjoy.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
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Online)
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