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bold thing and old
Do I do as I’m told? Or should I do my own thing? Should I break from the mold? Prove that I’m bold My own song to sing My soul shall never be sold No matter how often they scold I will mend my broken wing I’ve myself to uphold Give me your hand to hold I’ll make you feel like a king You and I will never grow old We’ll build our own stronghold Enclosed within a fiery ring Never to fear the nasty kobold Safe together in our freehold We can listen to bells ding Without worry for whom they tolled Nice and secure in this household To each other we can cling When the nights are damp and cold From you I’ll never withhold Not even the slightest pretending All will be as I’ve foretold
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Ode to my car
You take me where I want to go. You get me there and back again. How I feel for you, no one can know. T’your engine’s purr I like to listen. You served me well when times were lean. When funds were tight you were my home. We traveled far for the sights we’ve seen And all the places we used to roam. The times we had when things went well The shopping trips ‘cross the border Just to see what foreigners sell Our run-ins with law and order Just you and me camping at the lake A blanket and you for my tent Up on your hood to evade a snake Then I’d air you out from a skunks scent This is my response to two different challenges. One was to write a love poem about an inanimate object, and the other to write about something that makes me smile.
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Summer Memories
Peering through the windows of my mind Remembering summers long ago Down by the creek seeing what’s to find There a lizard, here a rock like an oh Off on our bikes to the baseball field You bring the bat, I have the ball A stick for a sword, a warrior’s shield We play all day till we hear mothers call Racing back home our dinner to eat Back out to play as quick as we can Rest in the shade of a tree from the heat Fetch with the dog how swiftly he ran I miss those days, the freedom we had Now I work the whole summer long I once was the kid but now I’m the dad Now summer days to my children belong
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The Final Act
When we go to the court, when we go before the King’s eye, even more than most, we must stay humble; take the bearing of a servant. Then, you and I, as best we can, will do what will scarcely be believed. We’ll not spare a single tear, not a dry eye left within a minute. They cannot but grant our request. Then I’ll plead for us to be together with each other. Then you, my dear, by all your charm and grace, will softly bid good bye to the king, or, tarry here midst the court, else some might think you crushed by the torments of the devil’s deeds. When we’ve seen what will be, to our chambers we’ll go and in those rooms there’ll be an end to it. The above is a poem of the form of a “golden shovel”. It need not rhyme nor have any meter. The only rule is that the last word of each line be another poem in order as it was written. The above poem uses Robert Burns’ “Answer to an Invitation”.
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Envy
Envy He has it I like how it looks I want it It’s so cute Give it to me now I want it I need some It should be all mine I want it I’ll get it I’ll take it by force I have it It’s mine now You can’t have it back I have it I don’t understand What does it do, but I have it Don’t touch it It’s not yours any more I have it It’s broke now You can have it back It’s all yours
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charm against boredom
Petals of narcissus after a storm Placed by the roots of an uprooted corm Miniature bulbs of grape hyacinth Neatly arranged at the base of a plinth Ready for planting again in the fall There to ensure that my life’s never dull.
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bedtime stories
Myths of the world largely unknown To the masses will ne’er be shown Some are forgot till the night dawns Bedtime stories told through dad’s yawns Haunt memories in remembered dreams Stories that were more than they seem Wisdom of ages told in a tale As three little sailors set sail Winken goes first into the night Followed by Blinken with nary a fight Finally Nod lays down his head Legends of old tuck them in bed.
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The Defense of Poesy
Otherwise known as An Apology for Poetry by Sir Philip Sidney Edited with Introduction and Notes by Alfred S. Cook 1890 The actual Defense of Poesy was only 58 pages, however with an introduction of 40 pages and 74 pages of copious notes, I was curious enough to buy this book and read it. Who was Sir Philip Sidney and why had I never heard of him? Sidney (1554-1586) was an Englishman who died young at the age of thirty-one. In that short span of years he traveled throughout Europe, he was appointed as an Ambassador to Germany, was a member of Parliament (twice), knighted by the Queen of England, married, had a daughter who became a Countess, appointed Governor of Flushing (Netherlands), fought, and later died from a wound at the Battle of Zutphen (part of the Eighty Years’ War). He is known to have written Astrophel and Stella, The Lady of May, Arcadia, and the Defense of Poesy. He was an acquaintance of both Edmund Spenser and Sir Francis Drake. This was the Elizabethan Age. What amazed me was the breadth of sources that Sidney uses in this work. He was evidently extremely well read. Not only was he…