Post your poetry here (151)

For my daughter, who is staying with me for a few days.

She’s asleep, yes she is, oh she's gone for the night.
With blankets up over and teddy tucked tight.

There’s no monsters in here, no there’s nothing to harm.
For her daddy has cleared them and they dare not return.

Yet the day it will come, but it’s a long while away,
When a mere boy he will take her, yes he will take her away.

And show her things that to her - they are not yet known,
and should not be, and must not be. Not until she’s full grown.

But for now she is innocent, and so it should be,
And her dreams are "of mummy and daddy and me".

Peter

more worthy stuff, maybe we should all put a book together...
know where you're coming from peter.

Dreams and things and tea
September 1, 2008

Tell me a dream in which the sky is not blue
Tell me again how you love the world, my butterfly girl

Laughter is your name, a big diamond on your chain

Dragon flies crown your head. Let me hear one more time your talking, chatty insistent little girl chime....

Can I braid your hair, I miss you and would give 1000 days for one more view of your face.

Oh how you used to let me in

Your world was glittered with pink then black, first gloss, then eye - liner.

Can we talk endlessly again across pebbles and beds, in pajamas, with tea?

Can we go to denny’s at 3?

Not sure I gave you what you need.....other than flowers in your hair.

I think you gave me more than my fair share.

Will we make sushi on Sunday night after we have our fight about cleaning rooms and dirty clothes in a chairs?

Will we talk again about how life isn’t always fair?

God how I miss you, your laughter and your dark, black hair.

Bring home little birds that lost their nest and don’t yet know how to fly

My butterfly girl
My twinkling star
My one achievement – my heart

Savors memories of your youth.

Now a woman on her way to be her own way.....her own life to choose.

Awakening

In the early gloom,
Of awakening conscience in a still-dark room.
In the pit of despair,
Sick with the bile of what recently was there.
In the remembered bliss,
Of a beckoning smile and the first tender kiss.
In the awful assassin,
Of just-harboured guilt cutting sharply within.
In the silent face,
Of inner decline and the swift forfeit of grace.
In the deadly weight,
Of four leaden limbs and a crippling self-hate.
In the gathering quiet,
Of a redundant phone and an alarm not set.
In a vivid dream,
Of an altered scenario and what it could mean.
In an endless quest,
For the truth in what was; the words and the rest.

Dawn Chorus

Oh no it is morning, how did it get to first light,
it seems only a few hours since the start of the night.

Damn, my dream it is over, but the memories they linger:
Of Jampet - oh if only I'd be let,
And Sharina - oh the way she might wean ye,
And Little_miss - oh and the way she might kiss.

Still four to a bed would be so terribly crowded,
And after those three I would surely be dead.

No its time to get up, and shower it be cold.
And stop being so terribly, terribly bold.


Good Morning
Peter

Just wishfull thinking girls, thats all.

God loves a trier..I think you say here...

yeah thats one way of trying to get a date....

Its ok girls - I'd have to turn ye all down anyway.

I'm shopping local for my pears these days.

Anyway - four in a bed - I dont think even I would have the stamina for that.....Note to Peter....must start a thread on males fantasies soon.

Peter

No Peter.... you would have to turn THEM down... not everyone is in that equation.....

Ah come on BB, just joking.

I promised not to be too serious recently, remember.

Don't I well know that classy women dont need to ask,
- they need to be asked, in the right way.

Peter