Last Commented Sonnet Poems (335)

I’ve fallen in love with Sarah Montague.
I hear her voice and I cannot resist,
I fall deeper with every interview,
yet she doesn’t know I exist.

I know it’s just a fantasy,
and I know we’ll never meet.
And I know she’d walk straight past me
if I saw her on the street.

Then she comes to me through my radio,
and the World is a wonderful place.
And I’m hearing her voice in stereo,
and all that’s missing is her face.

I love Sarah Montague, I love her more and more.
To understand why I love her, tune in to BBC Radio 4.

Cast off these lines have almost broken me
Making my body shudder with each wave
Letting me leave my safe harbor and flee
Myself of bonds never meant to enslave

Such as my spirit goes before me flies
Leaves an anchorage casts mooring aside
Riding silver wings overhead in skies
Soaring so highly and outstretched will glide

Past limits once held and checked in balance
Just for the sake of gravity I fear
Flying in the sunsets golden valance
Traveling in time makes great distance near

So at last we can meet and exchange smiles
Forgetting for now…. all the miles and miles

Dreamy goddess of distance and romance
Far beyond my lonely world do you reign
In fields of wild flowers watch floating dance
Your flowing headress made of daisy chain

Long days working in fields of dusty haze
A farmer's life tilling the good brown earth
At first evening star I rest and will gaze
Fruits of my labor bring to you such mirth

Every sunrise I greet with great pleasure
Your graceful perfections smile down on me
Thankful each season's for fullest measure
Smile back into your soft radiant eyes

Great Ceres make multiple my hay bales
Run wild the foxes with flamming tails

That was not a pie you gave me yesterday.
Call it shepherd’s or even cottage if you must.
But it wasn’t a pie, no matter what you say,
when the damned thing didn’t even have a crust.

And though my judgement might sound somewhat hasty,
I do not think I'm asking for a lot,
when I insist the filling be encased in pastry,
and yesterday it certainly was not!

A pie without a crusty pastry case
reminds me of a tortoise without its shell.
Its omission is an absolute disgrace.
I’m sure the tortoise would agree, as well.

So next time please do not dissatisfy,
just put a bloody crust around my pie!

Only drops of sweat beating off my brow
On long simmering days of summer heat
Won't fail a heart in content up to now
Withers away my spirits in defeat

Bucket by bucket from a well running dry
Carefully spilt onto each tender plant
Soaks into the earth must give it a try
Enough to hold on be ever so scant

Hope is forecast looks promising for rain
Back to the fields with a hoe in my hand
Pulling more weeds and fertilize again
Cause now is the time to make a firm stand

Success or failure when rains at last come
Counts how you measure with a rule of thumb

How warmly a'glow your fire greets me well
Just around the bend and seein' me home
Those lovely curled swirls of smoke rising s'well
Over blankets of snow's coverin' dome

For in that sweet odour born of the woods
Many a'whole days I trudged its timber
Bucksawed and stacked neat in an ol' woodshed
Countless swings of axe make me so limber

Lo' in wind drifts over meadows swagger
With these footsteps my perilous travel
Deep into snow's softin' crust I stagger
That last longest mile I dare not cavil

The fresh smell of stew in a pot simmerin'
Hanging over your soft coals shimmerin'

Restless lake you’ve become all blue and grey
Crashing waves now crust on your icy screes
Hear the winter winds come howling away
When cold drops below tolerable degrees

Faced with mighty hunger a gull awaits
Motionless and crouched in its ruffled plume
Ever searching eyes scanning sharp with fate
Shimmering morsels with scales to consume

My thoughts drift slowly away like the snow
Swirl lightly like dancing feathers or leaves
All around me cast an eerie shadow grow
Anything my mind perceives or believes

Quiet the days in dusky December
Mirrored into my mind shall remember

I stand beside a carp filled lake like glass,
A place where fairies oft flit to and fro.
You would not like my job so well, although
I do it for the Upper Middle Class.

My job is to amuse Sir's family,
Look cute, as I stand there , all two foot nine,
Red pointed hat atop my head so fine
and little gnome house built beneath the tree.

This morning when the sun soft lit the sea
My grunts and roars all through the vale arose,
When Sir attacked me with a garden hose.
The rude device was meant to make me pee.

The fairies hid for fear they would be next,
No longer laughing now that Sir seemed vexed.


~~~~~~~~~~~


He had a mind to make me water seeds.
His sprinkler system did not far extend,
So figuring to use me to that end
He plumbed, to let my tinkler do the deeds.

By noon my old wheelbarrow was long gone.
The Koi looked on quite open-mouthed with shock
As water gushed from out my hat and sock
While Sir's expletives just went on and on.

The afternoon was similar 'till three
When Sir struck gold with piece of copper plate
With which he prodded, worked on long past eight,
A drill producing functionality.

All done! Too late for him to see, Alas!,
The "pee" was squirting out my blushing a**

One fine spring morn as I walked through the wood,
I spied an uncommon handsome little bud.
It stood out from the rest on a chestnut tree,
I know not why it so appealed to me.

I watched it through the summer as it grew.
Its splendour and its beauty stood it apart.
Its green was of the most enchanting hue,
and to that regal leaf I lost my heart.

Then September came and turned my leaf to red;
by October my beloved leaf was dead.

I wage my war on Satan with my Bible,
I scare the whinging Liberals with my gun.
I go to church on Sunday when I’m able,
I hunt and shoot God’s critters just for fun.

The good book tells us what becomes of sinners,
be they atheist, abortionist or gay.
The God fearing and righteous will be winners,
the rest will burn in hell on judgement day.

For the cause of God’s law we must fight,
but only if you’re Christian, Republican and white.