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Thu 22 Nov, 2007 07:10 pm
Softly
days go by - tradewinds tease
ruffling the tops of palm trees
tossing their fruit to the ground
into a pile of sweet rot.
Softly
waves slap the beach
grinding coral into white sand
and the early fingers of sun turn
seaglass into brilliant jewels.
Softly
morning coolness turns Pele's breath
into dancing whirls of steam
that hides the valley
from the peaks of day.
Softly
the melancholy of the sandpiper
is heard
I hold your hand to my heart
to feel the warmth
Softly.
Lovely. (I also felt the warmth despite the raging snowstorm outside my window.)
Thank you for the kind word. You are in Canada eh?
sglass
Sglass, we learn something new about your poetic side. You and Edgar Blythe should get together.
BBB
Re: sglass
edgarblythe wrote:BumbleBeeBoogie wrote:Sglass, we learn something new about your poetic side. You and Edgar Blythe should get together.
BBB
Madam! I am spoken for!
Mz Boogie, Merry Andrew said to tell you that I am spoken for also. You are so naughty Mz Boogie.
Wonderful, Sglass - very lovely. I felt a gentle breeze upon my face
Back in the day when I was much younger, unmarried and living in Greenwich Village I shared an apartment with an older woman who was usually eight sheets to the wind before the sun was over the yardarm, and sometimes critical of my social life. I thought I would share a limerick I wrote about her. This is my humorous side.
ODE TO A FORMER REDHEAD
She sat with her teacup
Filled mostly with gin
Viewing female sexuality
With much chagrin
For what time had given
Time had taken
And there was no longer
Anyone to bring home
The bacon.
In fact,
She had turned
From a red headed tart
into a middle aged fart.
Hey der Miss Mame,
Thankee, thankee. Be it snowing on VI?
Re: THE SONNETS OF SEAGLASS
Sglass wrote:
into a pile of sweet rot.
Nice but I would re-write that line.
Thank you Roxxx,
I do appreciate constructive criticism. I will re-examine the sentence for syntax and understandibility.
Sg
Sglass wrote:Back in the day when I was much younger, unmarried and living in Greenwich Village I shared an apartment with an older woman who was usually eight sheets to the wind before the sun was over the yardarm, and sometimes critical of my social life. I thought I would share a limerick I wrote about her. This is my humorous side.
ODE TO A FORMER REDHEAD
She sat with her teacup
Filled mostly with gin
Viewing female sexuality
With much chagrin
For what time had given
Time had taken
And there was no longer
Anyone to bring home
The bacon.
In fact,
She had turned
From a red headed tart
into a middle aged fart.
I like this sort of writing.
Sglass,
Poetry - certainly (but not "sonnets")
*
Your "fingers of the sun" leading to "hand to heart" is first rate!
____________________________________________________
*
http://www.able2know.org/forums/viewtopic.php?t=4549
This is for Edgar Blythe who retired a thread tonight.
One For The Road
Someone asked me
About God
Then God asked me
About someone
I said I don't know
They retired.
One more before I hit the airways back to Paradise
ODE TO MADAM LAFARGE
She sat with her knitting needles
Planning the Revolution
That the dissolution of Paris
Was the only solution
Poor Marie Antoinette
With her coiffure so fine
Sat munching her cake
And sipping her wine.
Little did she suspect
That Madam had eyeballs
For her neck.
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