The Critique

chalk it up to

poorly mixed metaphors

muddled thought processes when composing

pretend you didn't read it

there is nothing to be gained

and really

praise would go straight to your head

abuse would linger for months

chuck it all 

move on

chalk happens

Supposin'

 

groove-a-licious

could it be one word

might it be three

looks like you’re leavin’

it all up to me

forty-four word count

don’t want to cheat

WhimsyGizmo’s

holdin’ fire to my feet

let’s call it one word whaddya say

hey d’Verse poets

come make my day

 

 

Quadrille Monday

out of the blue

a voice from the past

barrage of emotion

we ended it years ago

no strings attached

heading in different directions

but it was there

heart-beats in harmony

history, chemistry, destiny

in spite of the distance

in spite of the years

 

Quadrille for dVerse

last night I streamed a dream:

Kenny and Dolly afloat

in a canoe downstream

no need for life-jackets.

or maybe it was 

Dolly and me adrift

catching fish from a skiff

roasting our catch

over a roaring campfire

while duetting "islands

in the stream"

  

Soundtrack of my Teens

 

wikipedia commons 

that jukebox jive

in the still of the night 

you send me

put your head on my shoulder 

i only have eyes for you 

kisses sweeter than wine   

my special angel

don’t leave me now   

that’ll be the day

that’s when your heartaches begin .  

Quadrille for a Monday

body language speaks volumes

nobody’s pushover, she

knows how to strut her stuff

eyelids smudged with kohl

gold dust sprinkled in cleavage hollow

raspberry glossed lips

 hands stuffed in her pockets, just so

the message quite clear

"come and get me if you dare!"

Mish provided the word SMUDGE for us today!

 

Totally Stupid

 

Fun in the Pub!

gal in great need

she’s gone to seed

stuck months inside

one long hard ride

feeling much guilt

‘bout how she’s built

used to be svelte

suitors would melt

muscle has vanished

claiming she’s famished

it’s all in her head ~

pass the French Bread

Possibilities ....

Photo by Helen

what if,

as i was leaving,

i confessed every transgression

every possible slip of tongue

would you take me back

what if,

as i was leaving,

i turned and said

‘you know, i’m still in love with you’

would you tell me it’s over