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MCWA Nov 2010
O, interminable tenebrous
ev'r bewildering,
haunting, taunting
my incessant Pierian Spring!
MCWA Nov 2010
I thought you were my honey

but you were in for the money

I sent you to those classes

I bought your ugly glasses

I gave you that Camaro

You shot me with an arrow

I met your Kin

You broke my chin

I asked you why

you punched my eye

I gave you love

You gave a shove

I did your clothes

You broke my nose

I changed your sheets

you walked the streets

I walked your dog

You called me hog

I rubbed your feet

You ate my meat

I did your dishes

you mocked my wishes

You loved me not

You sold my cot

I did so care

You left me bare

You were in for the money

Weren't you, honey?
MCWA Nov 2010
A poetess can find plenty to do,
        with a Japanese Style written Haiku.
   she can spin a web of nature round and round,
with vicarious, vivacious adornments that abound.
        She can place all of her creatures
          within or without of a local Zoo.
        She can simply state blue is a hue.
           For, there is plenty to do,
     with a Japanese Style written Haiku.
  She can post of planting stylish seeds,
  and post of picking the wildest weeds.
or she can simply skip through a meadow;
while frightening her readers with a shadow;
or she can basque in the sun and just have fun.
             For, there is plenty to do,
     with a Japanese Style written Haiku.
          Words of syllables with 5,7,5,
           rush to leap before her eyes;
       so she can write a deep mini poem
            that's poised to win a prize!
            For, there is plenty to do,
     with a Japanese Style written Haiku!
MCWA Nov 2010
He gently creeps into her room
to rest tenderly near her side
while thoughts of melancholy zoom
in ~ of his once vibrant bride
she's been there for him
so many, many years
he sniffles~and tries to hide
the sorrow and the tears
she has been injured and hurt
but has lost the fight
she will not make it through the night
she will be in paradise by tomorrow's day
he reaches to sniff her best skirt
holds it tight~ it smells of her perfume
he drags over to the vanity to spray
her familiar scent around the room
he cradles her head within his arm
then musters an adoring smile as he whispers in her ear,
"Time travels fast, and I will see you in a while, my dear"
He provides her warmth by stroking her hair
he wants to capture this image of her there
he wants this moment painted on the wall
so that he can always,always recall
how peaceful she seemed while adrift somewhere.

— The End —