...did they EAT that?!



(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCXCI)


So, party late last night cuz that detail
Of a good night's sleep's mine thereafter, thence
Called in just after midnight as from hence
Sleep is for those mair blest souls. If I'm frail,
Well, maps is twisted, and I have no bail
Save Thy dear mercies, LORD, Thou my defense
Alone, be Thou thus magnified, and whence?
A Dove, erm, ice cream bar is mine, t'avail!
I'm praying the mouse is caught. Come, is that poor?
If pest control set traps with bait, twas two:
One in the kitchen, t'other by as twere
The laundry. There's one in the bathroom?! Do
I see mouse hair?! Oh good! It's caught in tour.
One mouse head. That's all. LORD, how I thank You.

10Oct25a

[I crafted applesauce of all the half rotted apples the night before, cutting up and cooking the apples before work.]


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCLXXXIX)


Back home ere sevn, crash on the couch t'avail,
'Cept Tigger does not like that for intents.
Yet oh! how sweetly chill the air is! whence
Catnap 'neath that old blanket whose detail
"From Cynthya just for Jenny," once was bail
For third shift years 'go, and's 'gain defense
Especially from her claws, til rest is thence
Cast off. Why maunt I nap along the trail?
Just porridge, cant'loupe, applesauce in tour
So he kin breakfast ere he sweeps all through
The place, and one last glass of milk as twere,
Still creamy and so tasty. Catnap to
Gain rest til nearly noon. Do I bestir
Me fin'lly, LORD, Thy mercies are e'er new.

09Oct25a

I'm NOT gonna chase her around the apartment to pet her, like he does.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCLXXXVIII)


It's not my day off anymore, defense
Gone overnight, the concept still t'avail
Half in my mind, til ev'ning's ole detail
Haunts with the note it shan't be long til thence
I must head back to work. Oh vain pretense!
I am mixt up as sunny shafts reach hale
Bright fingers for the front door like the trail
To yonder lies beyond? No, no. And whence?
We wore out flicks for our amusement, poor
As sev'ral ev'ry day since last week, two
Or more our fare, like that was good as twere.
And Tigger's his cat now, I guess, the cue
Of petting more than I could bear. Bestir
Hope in the LORD. Oh LORD, what should I do?

08Oct25b

Haha.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCLXXXVII)


My papers rumpled, torn, and sans avail
Now wreckt, how Tigger'd make me scribble thence
In lieu of words, like what? We're playing fr'intents,
This pencil, papers, folder, that detail
Called my eraser, all her toys, the trail
To fun and games, til I give up from hence,
Trying just to save my work from that pretense
Which will find all in shreds ere long, sans bail.
She likes to stand upon my shoulders, her
Game walking on my back, e'en lying there too,
But nary photos have been taken fer
Aught else to know our fun which words parse to
Effect; and Peter is more quiet. Stir
Hope in the LORD, my soul. LORD, I wait You.

08Oct25a

...of sugar and th'expense.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCLXXXVI)


Tis Nash'nal Frappé Day. I'm on the fence.
Fave Starbucks' drink the "Frappuccino," they'll
Have that with "protein foam" likeas t'avail
The latest trend, hot peppers too, til thence
I'll pass and mull th'attempt to brew it hence
Myself; yet even this shan't do for bail.
I'm way too fat. "...'Void sugars--" fine detail
Some rule to help me lose, where is defense?
Get this! It's after noon by now in tour,
So I'll skip coffee for today, and rue
This vain thought of a tribute to as twere
A cherished Grecian treat. If I should brew
Strong coffee, I'll miss pulling 'spressos. Stir
Dreams, to fall short. LORD, save me. I need You.

07Oct25b

Ah me.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCLXXXV)


Is it the final month of Autumn frail
Chill'd waltz in like relief frae Summer's sense
Of heat which melts us in a trice, to thence
Leave aught fatigued? Rain sifts off as the trail
Wears that kiss, sweetly wet in aught detail,
My fondness for dear rain the reason hence
The blinds are mostly drawn is't? Vain pretense.
Drive to Panera to see Fall unveil.
Oh yes, October's leaves are yellow. Were
The heat too much, well, what was there to do?
Now that it fin'lly feels like tis in tour
"The season," I fear I've been gyped anew.
How few days til November? Winter'd stir
Next month and I dread that. LORD, I need You.

07Oct25a

sigh*



(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCLXXXIV)


Rain. Sweet Autumnal rain I cherish, hence
Like balm unto my soul; how it'd avail
Me after dark, sheer solace in th'all hail,
Its voice what calls unto my soul, defense
Within that note I've loved for years, a sense
Of yonder, yet of peace in that detail,
Though how words maunt express but seem to fail
My vain attempts to say what I know, whence?
Tomorrow is my day off, rain as twere
What Mum said's great for sleeping, which we two
Half need, it seems to me. I'm tired in tour
Frae crazy hours I badly needed, to
Be certain, yet which quite fatigued me. Stir
Thyself and save us, LORD, for we wait You.

06Oct25b