A place for poems and pics
d’Verse Quadrille #61 – puzzle
The Missing Piece of My Day
it was a puzzely sort of day
pieces just didn’t seem
to fit together
I tried pushing round bits
into square-ish slots until
the edges started to come
unglued – flake apart
I searched for missing parts
and found each one except
the heart
A Rhupunt Poem
Here’s my attempt at this form
These are the guidelines for the rhupunt:
• The form can be broken down into lines or stanzas
• Each line or stanza contains 3 to 5 sections
• Each section has 4 syllables
• All but the final section rhyme with each other
• The final section of each line or stanza rhymes with the final section of the other lines or stanzas
–
Old Fleabag
On the table
A white cat sat
Though he knew that
He’s not allowed
I tried to chase
Him from that place
Look on his face
Haughty and proud
I yelled and clapped
My fingers snapped
He was not rapt
Meowed out loud
I raised a flag
White paper bag
That old fleabag
Would not be cowed
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #59 – Cycle
Kim is hosting at the Pub and she has our wheels spinning
~
Learning to Ride
Little legs pumping
Little face pouting
Little hands gripping
Trying to pedal her shiny
Pink three-wheeled bike
Little progress without a
Little help from Dad
Little hill she picks up speed
Big smile
Big giggles – she feels like a
Big girl riding a
Try-cycle
d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Getting Personal
–
Look Me in the Eyes
Blue-green eyes stare back at me
This true reflection of myself
They know me – show me
For who I am
Mostly hopeful, happy, smiling
Little crinkles creep out from
The corners – laugh lines
(not crows feet)
Sometimes pensive, tense(ive)
Even sad – without a sparkle to share
They’ve got the blues
Squinty, maybe flinty, just a hint
Of yellow flecks flash disapproval,
Or confusion – a simple warning-
If you know to notice
Everything about this me is held
Within these blue-green eyes
Staring out at you
Quadrille #58 – Cobble us a Poem
~
A Cobbled Heart
Her tender heart was
Coming apart at the seams
(it seems)
He found some threads
Of truth to use
To mend the open places
Where trust was seeping out
And stitch by stitch he
Cobbled together the pieces
Until her heart was whole again
MTB — Variations on the Rubaiyat – Frank is tending bar at the Pub today
—
Breaking Up
The moment that you touch my lips
I feel more inches on my hips
More pounds the scale will indicate
If I but make one little slip
I’ve licked you from my fingertips
And savored you as warming sips
I’m sorry darling chocolate
I’m leaving you for crisp kale chips
—
Just kidding! 🤗 I would never break up with chocolate.
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille – Shall We Gather?
Lillian is gathering quadrilles over at the pub
—-
A Gathering Most Fowl
It was a mob scene
A larger-than-large gathering
This gaggle of geese
Waiting, impatiently,
For the corn in our pockets
Honking, pushing, and when
We had no more to give
They swam gracefully to the
Other side of the lake
Without a backward glance
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #54: Zip It!
Unzipped
This poem has lost the
zippity
In it’s doo-dah
It’s buttoned down
Zipped up seriousness
Until it grabs a rope
And zip lines to the
Party side of my heart
Where darkness is
Banished by a sea of
waving Zippos and
hippy-dippy zippy tunes
My Almost Masterpiece
How do I know just when to stop
When one more stroke would be too much
Or do I need to shade and crop?
I turn the bottom to the top
A little trick – it’s not a crutch
How do I know just when to stop?
Add cobalt blue to make it pop
Titanium white – a tiny touch
Or do I need to shade and crop?
Paint out the extra still life prop
Then add another pear or such
How do I know just when to stop?
Put down the brush now, let it drop
Release it from my desperate clutch
Or do I need to shade and crop?
Walk away, my canvas swap
Before I change it overmuch
How do I know just when to stop?
Or do I need to shade and crop?
Sunny-side up! At d’Verse Poets Pub
Lillian is looking for some sun
—
Capturing the Sun
I picked a bunch of
Buttery daffodils
Trying to capture the sun
To keep a little piece for
Those days when the sky
Is only shades of gray
With dabs of paint and
Bold brush strokes my
Canvas is covered with
Yellow ruffles of sunshine
That cloudy days can not
Obscure
rhymeswithbug 