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Mirthful sunlit chimes spoke of fondness
Ever they'd enmesh in love's binding tress  
Streams of joy did gurgle with much delight  
Their hearts according in rapture's notes
Bright news resounded through these totes
They'd professed to each other love's tie
Twas a pairing which would ne'er fade or die
Heavens arrayed in spangling starlight
The twosome combined so divinely
A sweet syrup bliss ringing sublimely
Love's declaration pleasantly pealing
Throughout the continents both near and wide
The turtle doves love ever to reside
These gladdest tidings truly appealing
an accord of peace shall never be found
while ever the weapons of war resound
man has not heeded lessons from the past
over centuries countless souls killed
endless rivers of blood hath been spilled

an olive branch ushers in tranquility
too many souls lost through inane hostility  
the world sees conflict and is most aghast
put down the rifle let it's powder rest
leaders must hear this imploring request

the dove of peace the symbol of brotherhood
may it fly over our orb in quietness
armaments bring vast amounts of sadness
may we have hush in every neighborhood
Rosarian Sonnet
1. 14 lines
2. Syllable count 10
3. Rhyme scheme: a-a-b-c-c  d-d-b-e-e  f-g-g-f
fall's palette of colors over the landscape
these mellow hues on timber stands shall drape
painting a canvas in vintage foliage
copper and bronze being the season's dress code*
with a sprinkling of golden aspen ode
April's leaves returning to rustic frame
parks and mountains all graced by her dame
the brush of autumn's mature coverage
decorating in earthen tone effect
where she displays a ripening aspect
on her boughs clarets and russets brocade
reminiscent of nature's own tincture
nostalgia in the classical picture
*recalling to mind a wooded grove's glade
who's the current holder of the shop's deed*
when did he obtain an ownership creed
we have pondered on this very matter
but no answer has yet come to the fore
that will satisfy our questioning score
we've long thought his plate shingle hung on the gate
with letters saying this is York's estate
though there's little of proprietary clatter
been audible at the place for some while
this has so troubled our concerned bile
on him displaying the paper's freehold  
we'll have ken of his legal possession
this will be a rock solid expression
*which is penned in ink ever so bold
The plagiarist hath vacated this space
Yet his shadow still lingers at the place
In the nose one well senses it about
So oft an odor doth waft on the air
Which can be veiled by visage fair
The eyes are peeled they're ever watching
For that person of the copyist's cloning
Twill not be duped by untruthful flout
This day of its appearance yet unseen
Could there be a hiding behind the screen
Though the master duplicator hath fled
His presence is hovering over the joint
Of type in image same he did anoint
Within HP's walls it doth share our bed
Her pink bud did enrapture his gaze
The everything about her did amaze
Within him she did wake robust ardency
Nothing quelled the resolve of his desire
The sight of her instigated a fire
To be in steamy rapport twas his wish
How he hungered to taste of her dish
Captivating twas the rose's potency
Her comeliness did verily pleasure
His every thought taken by her treasure
Night came that time to imagine and dream
Whereupon his being could meld with her
Neath the lunar spell his mind did meander
Twining in her petiole's sultry stream
A picture of a Pink Rose prompted this write...
On canvas God's image is obscured
A casual eye may not be secured
In the middle ground and to right side
A hooded figure the artist did paint
Within his composition it is faint
In center foreground a telephone sits
E'er taking the viewer's sighting wits
At back of picture greyish blocks preside
A dab hand with oils and of brush daubing
His canvas is a work most absorbing
In lake scene God's presence is reflected
Of the divine a common Dali theme
To grasp the meaning of his color scheme
The artist's intrigue must be inspected
#artist  #canvas  #theme
I'm an accomplished writer of ****
So many of my poems feature piles of it
To-day I slapped up an offering
This one was scribed with lots of passion
No doubt you'll dislike this awful ration
When the mood strikes the lines flow free
My quill puts on a liberal **** spree
This star quality crap is worth proffering
I always surprise myself with my dross
It hasn't the appearance of top gloss
As the afternoon hours slowly draw near
Another poem of **** ilk hath dawned
So I shall let it be nicely spawned
Golly gee this is a grouse piece of **** gear
#humor  # self deprecation  # smile
The rain now falls o'er our rural township
Tis such a delight to hear of its drip
We've been in a dry spell for a long while
With the advent of a pour we'll rejoice
That will be done in our happiest voice
The pastures were lacking of a good drink
Farmlands fast looking like an arid sink
A brighter day came with its wetting smile
Soils bestowed in moisture so fetching
Which shall bring a green to the land's etching
Fat drops continue their most quenching spill
Our hamlet thankful to the skies gifting
With its favor we've had an uplifting
The countryside hath received a filling bill
The master copyist hath made an appearance
Without being given the proper clearance
He's just blown in at another poetry site
One bets he'll be at his usual caper
Plagiarizing poet's work on his paper
Twas noted that he'd come to have a look
For poems which he could put in his own nook
None can be credited as a true write
This chap is serial at knocking things off
No wonder we should of him verily scoff  
As bold as a brass **** he was stealing
Slipping under the radar's scope to ******  
He's made that locale his casual patch
Hope he hasn't purloined those poet's writing
A lethargy hath encompassed thy quill
Henceforth no ink shall it profusely spill
Twill seek rest in a lovely countryside glade
Daily markings on a page shall conclude
It shall take time to imbibe in quietude
Thy quill's tiredness hath been narrated
It's verve did slowly become deflated
Dwindling away to a lifeless shade
No fetching flourishes e'er on display
The spirited light hath gone from its day
Thy quill departs to refresh and revive
As it's energies are verily listless
Doth come an hour for repose's sought redress
Tis sure to make it feel truly alive
The scaffolding of the heart falls apart
When our beloved kin quickly depart
A repair kit is sought for the lasting grief
Tears are never ending in their sad stain
The living burdened with years of pain
Wrenched from those caring arms in cruelness
The soul e'er feels the ache of bitterness
To have consolation soothing relief
Always a cavern of dark clouds prevail
A death causes us to constantly ail  
In search of solace we all go looking
A brighter glimmering light regained
The sorrows of loss well ingrained
Our dearest leaving so overwhelming
the deity was a ******* up minor god*
his band of fans saw not the faker ***
of a deceptive trait he did so show
some were blind to looking at the real bloke
others more insightful thought he a joke
true believers weren't indoctrinated
they knew shams could be invalidated
never did he possess the divine glow
why praise the charlatan's counterfeit guff
of it there would be a perennial bluff
his godhead image did dupe the unwise
for these disciples were so unsighted
of him they'd be lastingly blighted
*a pretender until his very demise
a woman's work is ever ongoing
she cooks, washes and does all hubby's mowing
the list of her daily duties quite long
she's never free from these demanding tasks
her days are as full as the fullest flasks
at no time is the housewife taking spells
every minute rings in requesting bells
few assist they're off singing an easy song
whereas the underpaid maid grinds tough stone
her hands worn down to barest possible bone
women carry tons of bricks a real heavy freight
not for one second will they idle or laze
they're running around in the busiest haze
by week's end they do feel a loading's weight
Oft the tinge doth show itself for viewing
On occasion it remains in hiding
The hue covers lands with a paint of green  
Yet for months the pastures being burnt of tone
No drops give life to the countryside's bone
Clouds of restoring promise ne'er arrive
Hence the granite landscape doesn't come alive
Flourishes of verdant turf rarely seen
So as the days of summer go forward
Landholders aren't gifted with rain's reward
Looking at the skies e'er tinted in azure
Dryness prevailing not a spot doth fall
Farmlands are feeling the arid wind's squall
Oh for the soils to have good moisture
#drought  #farms  #rain
within the campsite's closed up enclave
a general kept many a trooper slave
on hearing strident orders being spoken*
they'd jump to the commands that did sound
as these strict directives were oft around
each servile soldier was at this behest
doing what the big man would so request
but they tired of the marshal's token
a revolt put well in train there and then
they'd not be yoked to the despot's pen
their bid for liberty's run was a victory
on catching the tyrant whilst fast asleep
through an ajar gate ran the muffled sheep
*whereupon their freedom became history
please excuse the gross lingo in this write
but using it will add some genuine bite
last night Jack's freezer called on our town
leaving a big frost blanket well behind
its chilliness stayed fixed to my rind
the temperature was minus of degrees
there came a feeling cold in toes and knees
everything most certainly zeroed down
holy crap them winter ides aren't too good
they shivered through my old frames wood
three more months of a bitter frigid brace
summer's warmth has departed these parts
which means I'll be up for Jacko's white starts
climes such as his are so hard to face
Once the aggravation is rubbed out
There will be celebrations all about
Democrats holding sway for far too long
The house needing less of these most pesky weeds
They've certainly been a batch of crooked seeds
The Senate and Congress swept clean of trash
Washington having a good riddance bash
Old faces given a last farewell gong
Voting for the elephants is so good
Sprucing up the Capital's neighborhood
Mid term elections start the ball rolling
Americans restoring some order
Taking out the donkey's mass disorder
Will it not be cause for much extolling
A line taken from the Oscar Wilde Poem ..."The Harlot's House".

E'er she'd dream of gent with truest intent
Yet none did step unto her hearth's cement  
Of a ******* she twas a common ****
A love of bliss could ne'er be by her side
She wished to become a ****** bride
Ordinary men of alley and of street
Had stripped her pristine heather neath sheet
Of a deep twine she's not have in a glut
The joys of sweet weather weren't bestowed
A beautiful love ne'er to be glowed
She sat alone with a constant wrenching
(A phantom lover to her breast) she'd claim
One who'd vow his fondness unto her name
In reverie the strumpet e'er pining
For many long hours the wind hasn't abated
It's blusters are rather agitated
Street paper and leaves hurled about
Tree boughs bending in the fast paced throng
No doubt the gales whisk is verily strong
Birds are getting buffeted in the sky
There's no respite from the wind's speedy fly
My back door just let out a slamming shout
Those south westerlies are ripping affairs
Throughout this day they'll be flouting their airs
A turbulence called in our regions
Bringing currents that are rapid of whirl
They bear a truly unabashed twirl
We'd gladly farewell their gusting legions
#wind  #gusting  #fly
The stroke of thine quill, twas well felt by he
In its ink, one did utter a free spree
One admits, to the phrasing of *******
Maybe, one twas ill advised, in act
For this notation, had a harsh impact
A valuable lesson, twas taught to me
That being, be much more thoughtful of he
Using that term, has left a very big hole  
Communication lines, all stalled
Two persons, isolated and walled
An intemperate lash, won me no friend
The past error, of quill is very clearly seen
One had so awfully, vented one's spleen
Of this tutorial, I'll e'er comprehend
for some have known where the man resides
it isn't in northern hemisphere's tides
yet he insists on telling a falsehood
to the gullible that he's so convinced
could be said his conning is well minced
a southland record does factually show
his address is in sub-urban street's row
definite the look of Oz neighbourhood
mister Kneale's abode revealed to all
we've the oil on his hideout's bricked wall
he did flee from the wife and kids back then
thereby not wishing to be located
all fatherly duties abrogated
so he could have the life of a single Ken
Blinkers of deception blocked all view
Which gave an impression verily askew
Much like a tunnel with direct vision
The peripheral objects not sighted
This be how the eye is well blighted
The optic ***** is so oft mislead
By those carrying a fraudulent masthead
We've been trapped in their shadow's vision
Unmasking them is a revelation
A clear picture of misinterpretation
Ne'er be tricked in a straight light byway
For there's always dark tones lingering
Which don't exhibit that they're loitering
Be not a mole in a blinded hallway
A woman's work is endlessly ongoing
She cooks washes and does all hubby's mowing
The list of her daily duties is long
She's never free from those demanding tasks
Her days are much fuller than ten pint flasks
At no time does she get to take any spells
Her every minute rings in request bells
No one assists they're off singing a song
With a scowl the housemaid grinds very tough stone
Her finger tips and knees worn to the bone
Women carry tons of bricks a real heavy freight
For not one second do they ever laze
They're all running around in a busy haze
By day's end they feel the onuses weight
I have a job's list longer than an arm
But none of them bring to me loads of charm
Where to start is the question that I ask
I ponder which one to give a top spot
They all implore me to get on the trot

From the kitchen dishes yell out to me
So does the floor beg for my housemaid's knee
In these gross chores I don't want to bask
Yet they require my urgent attention
The state of my digs not worth a mention

Once I have an energy burst come to me
The job's lengthy list will be whittled down
I wish to rid my house of it's grubby frown
Without further adieu I'll busy as a bee
Mankind has a dark persona on show
Tis this day manifest in glummest of glow
We're bearing witness to horror and strife
On terrain distant from our turf patches
Arms deployed in ghastly dispatches
We've seen these awful actions in days past
Weapons involved with maddening blast
Theater of battle on Iraq's soil is rife
Cessation of fire not on horizon
Men of war have compunction to go on
We're seeing the gloom of munition round
Too many people are becoming casualties
Arms bringing numbers of fatalities
Mankind's gun does continually resound
A woman is a gem of priceless value
The man who has this sagest retinue
Shall ever  hold her diamond of fondness
His joyful heart being truly fortunate
She'll afford him such a beloved sate
Her affection's treasure so deep of well
He'll be hearing love's enduring sweet bell
On them coming together in closeness
Two souls merging as fairest sun-lit day
A union of one their twining display
Her beautiful stone embraced by he
Telling the story of mutual attraction
On each other making an impaction
The understanding the facets of she

— The End —