"syr" poems - Hello Poetry

I have a horse - a ryghte good horse - Ne doe Y envye those Who scoure ye playne yn headye course Tyll soddayne on theyre nose They lyghte wyth unexpected force Yt ys - a horse of clothes. I have a saddel - "Say'st thou soe? Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?" I sayde not that - I answere "Noe" - Yt lacketh such, I woote: Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe! Parte of ye fleecye brute. I have a bytte - a ryghte good bytte - As shall bee seene yn tyme. Ye jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte; Yts use ys more sublyme. Fayre Syr, how deemest thou of yt? Yt ys - thys bytte of rhyme.

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2.2k

Lewis Carroll

Ye Carpette Knyghte

I have a horse - a ryghte good horse - Ne doe Y envye those Who scoure ye playne yn headye course Tyll soddayne on theyre nose They lyghte wyth unexpected force Yt ys - a horse of clothes. I have a saddel - "Say'st thou soe? Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?" I sayde not that - I answere "Noe" - Yt lacketh such, I woote: Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe! Parte of ye fleecye brute. I have a bytte - a ryghte good bytte - As shall bee seene yn tyme. Ye jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte; Yts use ys more sublyme. Fayre Syr, how deemest thou of yt? Yt ys - thys bytte of rhyme.

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Beyond the chaos the beauty intertwines. the very essence truly one of a kind. voice of an angel song of a siren. You lure me over, like youre someone to confide in. See from the outside, the battle within. A war in its own right, to pull together and win. That kindred spirit. Turned out to be you. Who i've waited for.. Yet I never knew. You let me wander into this world of your own. To find a home together in this all alone. I'd carry you with me through the rising tide.. You would pull me under with a lies you cannot hide

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May 6, 2018

May 6, 2018 at 1:32 AM UTC

AndyFelix

Syr ryn

Beyond the chaos the beauty intertwines. the very essence truly one of a kind. voice of an angel song of a siren. You lure me over, like youre someone to confide in. See from the outside, the battle within. A war in its own right, to pull together and win. That kindred spirit. Turned out to be you. Who i've waited for.. Yet I never knew. You let me wander into this world of your own. To find a home together in this all alone. I'd carry you with me through the rising tide.. You would pull me under with a lies you cannot hide

1

I shared a beer and sympathy with a gnarled, obsolete man Whose wizened visage spoke of unwise choices. He spoke wistfully (though apropos of nothing) of an abandoned diner Near the terminus of a truncated and decommissioned road, Its parking lot an unhappy armistice Of cracked tarmac and scrub grasses, The building still sporting caricatures of the proprietors (The artist a devotee of the Bob’s Big Boy school) Though time had robbed them of the odd eyeball, And a shoulder or elbow had faded surreptitiously into the background. Much of a large sign remained as well, Appearing to be nothing less Than some leviathan’s abandoned crossword puzzle, Fairly shouting “THE B ST DA N STE K BETW N SYR C SE AND OT T WAOR Y UR MON Y B CK!” Nothing else remained, my companion intimated, Save the odd abandoned farmhouse and vestigial fields, With long unmended barbed-wire fences doing their level best To contain the ghosts of bygone and unlamented cows.

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May 3, 2017

May 3, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC

wk-kortas

Ozzy and Mandy's Old Route 11 Diner, DeKalb Junction, New York

I shared a beer and sympathy with a gnarled, obsolete man Whose wizened visage spoke of unwise choices. He spoke wistfully (though apropos of nothing) of an abandoned diner Near the terminus of a truncated and decommissioned road, Its parking lot an unhappy armistice Of cracked tarmac and scrub grasses, The building still sporting caricatures of the proprietors (The artist a devotee of the Bob’s Big Boy school) Though time had robbed them of the odd eyeball, And a shoulder or elbow had faded surreptitiously into the background. Much of a large sign remained as well, Appearing to be nothing less Than some leviathan’s abandoned crossword puzzle, Fairly shouting “THE B ST DA N STE K BETW N SYR C SE AND OT T WAOR Y UR MON Y B CK!” Nothing else remained, my companion intimated, Save the odd abandoned farmhouse and vestigial fields, With long unmended barbed-wire fences doing their level best To contain the ghosts of bygone and unlamented cows.

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