His Make Believe Love

Below his mind a mermaid sits
Aglow of love only for thee
Hello he cast these words to her
Forego the tides and reel with me

She looks back up with laughing  eyes
Glee burst furthest from his bubble
See his mind's altar be empty
Be his scales short of  a couple

Logan Robertson

2/08/2020

Kansas City Cheifs Rise

Seeding and blossoming
At the right time
In the face of adversity
Now known
As the 49ers
Last scene
Heads hung low
Seething and wilting
In the face of Mahomes
Now known
As Tomahawk Chop
Comeback king
QB extraordinaire
In the race to the top
Rarefied air for the Cheifs
And a beaten path for the 49ers
Down 20-10
Golding, goading into the fourth
Mahomes sparks the comeback
Two TD passes
And the 49ers are on their *****
Two TD passes
Cheifs win 31-20
To the 49ers rashes
And should I dare say crashes
A seedling that was planted
Some 50 seasons ago
Ripe with submisions
And some terrible falls
Over the proud owners
The Hunt family
No strangers to paydirt
Now reaching new heights
For the very first time
This for the Cheif fans
The ones now with tears of joy
Savioring the moment
A rallying cry
To the fall of their dream
Now to the very rise ...
of their team

Logan Robertson

2/03/2020

It all went up in smoke
puffs of black
rising above the smokestacks
rising to the sky
one at a time came their turn  
of matters to ash

Logan Robertson

1/06/2020

For years he caught a fish
For his hymn
It was a game and thrill
From the ridge
And outskirts
He parked his car
Hiking thru the forest
Often whistling a tune
Surely enjoying the views
And the company
While singing Oh My Darling
Clemetine
To his goad
A wide open lake
His only refuge
Fishing brought him comfort
Like *** does
As often as a blue moon
When he caught one
Some say for effect
The fish would wiggle
His whistles pitching
Pitching
From the mound
To the batter's box
Sometimes high
More often low and bought
And to his demise the big ones
End up escaping
Why he would ask
A snap of fate, they say
Twice a month
Which was a good month
He tested the waters
He would dip his toe in
His manhood at bat
Always relishing
The aesthetics
From the outskirts
To the ridge
The walk thru the forest
Thru and thru
Back in forth
It never got old
Even for his whizzing heart
Stranger as it seems
A stranger in the dark
The years
The decades
The lost opportunities
Decending
To the whispers
And knowing sneers
From his peers
Life had fewer cast for him
And fewer blue moons
Where he is now resigned
To his hands of fate

Logan Robertson

1/04/2020

Sally has a Santa Claus crush
On the eve she began to blush
T'was that time of year
Stockings filled with cheer
For his gifts, she came to ******

Logan Robertson

12/6/2019

Sally caught the train to the city
Upon arrival, she looked gritty
For her tryst far from right
She tried the swings, this night
Though her quirks were cork, she lay pretty

Logan Robertson

11/25/2019