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lily wipes away a tear
time is fear and we can do nought
one day later and closer
to nought..
deserve
it more than most, more than anyone, indeed, in deed,
your passion drowns me,
overwhelms and even makes me admit
out loudly
over comes

your faceted identities,
delight, charm, provoke,
and evoke
multitudes of moods, desires,
even writings...
but you are too stern,
this thing called love,
is tissue soft, so hard to form,
so easily torn, it requires
time & hard work, many words,
though oft the fewest are supreme,
and I laugh at myself, for the only word
I think that rhymes with supreme
is
dream
which is
just another synonym
for
endless opportunities


and I, we, read each others poems
to each other
quietly,
for that is the only, & the best way.
there was an urban fox a cheeky chap was he
roaming round the city roaming wild and free
climbing in to bins searching for a treat
routing through the ******* for a bite to eat.

looking out for windows that were open wide
then inside the window the little fox would slide
all around the house while people were asleep
looking for some food the little fox would creep.

then when he finished eating back to his little den
take himself a nap then roam around again.
At
Some
Point
In the midst of
This.

It was all
Supposed
To make
Some
Sort
Of
Sense.

I'd make it
In my own
Way
And
Figure out what
It was that
I'm missing.

One day ,
Meaning
Was gonna meet
Me in some
Dusty, *****,
Back road,
And I'd
Finally
Live.

At least that
Was the lie,
I told people
To get them
To
Stay.

And,
I believed it,
For a while.

And
Wouldn't you
Know it,
I never did,
Quite, make
It past
Today.

I musta had
Some
Hopes and dreams,
Kicking around.

Probably threw them
Out
When I had
To leave.
In my silken sleep, I ponder when will I become colourless like the wind so I can too glide.
please girl, always wear blue!

please girl, who among is
not always been a runner up
to somebody, in some endeavor,
and it always be this way forever,

I have read but one of your poems,
(now no longer true)
Though I have read and written
This ideation, in a 1000 variations,
By 10,000 we are~we be  
be poets

But let us start at the beginning,
and not miss the obvious,
Spelling of your name
whether or not by choice by choice,
by somones
incision
upon your everything
I gifted you this po-em

makes a specialist in unique,
Never knew never read a,
Lizie with this single Zed,
And though there may be others

Another I have yet encountered
as a prolific poet at such a tender age,
So now you test & task me, with
a closer examination of your written largesse

i'm a stumbler, and a tumbler of/to those
who dabble in this black on white magical,
artistry, but to your naming, I retuning, returning,
thanks to whomever entitled you to this heraldry,

so here I commence, but not end, for I am too,
Well familiar with the women whose names,
Were deliciously and deliberately misspelled,
to make sure, forever,

their own specialization art  on insight or foresight,
of birthright  and born rights, SO cease the boohoo,
Immediately<
we are always  be behind to a second place finisher, unkbeknownest,
to thousands here. and else where,
but hopefully, much loved, by those who value their
own scripting, for themselves, who let out, emit a slight
growl of satisfaction, and an even bigger smile at satisfying
the inner first among so many, surrounding you,
by name
preserved prezisely for you...
                              


nml
Peter Granger
7:02 PM (2 hours ago)
to marshalgebbie45, Denis, Dave, Peter

By Piddles Granger

In our little town, permanent attire is dressing-gown,
outsiders find it impossible to believe
Most believe we is abnormal, nonetheless preferring informal
Dressen' gowns are our clothing motif

Its their unappreciated beauty, specially for us with big-*****
the deception is made at each weigh-in
concealing a multitude of sins, its a fashionista win-win
creates an illusion even when public tennis playin’.

Its the classic wrap-around garment, conceals unflattering enlargement
a truly remarkable master of disguise
not an opposite-*** attractant, au-contraire a comatose relaxant
its a virtual cold shower for most red-blooded guys

Made of quality chenille, has such a sensuous feel,
with hundreds of Pantonian skins
pastel ripple pink is my favourite, but high-vis is also made of it
its unmistakable as street-ferrying trash bins

Whilst the gown is entirely inflammable, near open fires dont be too casual
one percent natural fibre improves its aeration
If the belt-knot comes adrift, one’s inside package may shift
but on a hot day providing much-needed ventilation

When it comes to arthritis, swollen ankles and phlebitis
provides gown-length that perfectly suits
it will always be low-down, ever so close to the ground
without ever concealing those treasured ugg boots

Unfortunately, dressen' gowns and cosmetics do not equate to chick magnets
the two being completely incompatible
when venturing beyond one’s own premises, socially unacceptable skin blemishes
in some quarters have become ever so fashionable

PG
Piddles is an old mate of mine, he hails from Phillip Island in Victoria.
Piddles is a savant with immeasurable talent and flair. knowledgeable in international affairs, he has a loathing for the CCP and Putin in equal measures. He is an Australian to the core and luxuria1tes in being so!
One day, the world will be a sorrier place without old Piddles.
M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
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