I once had a doctor called Roger
Who let out a room to a lodger.
He charged her much rent
As his money was spent
Sending food out to old codgers.
If you want to get published today
You can’t have word rhymes in your play.
They are pre-post-modern
Especially when sudden.
So take care and enjoy feeling ………………..grudges.
[see it’s quite easy]
But the essence of limericks is rhyme.
As in clocks, it is their chime.
But if it’s forbidden
We’ll have to get rid o ’em.
The essence of loving is time.
Their startlingly soft beauty is so gentle,
And they have well lit wondering minds
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In summertime, our love is peaceful,
like murmuring daisies floating in the soft breeze.
above our faces,tickling us in playful gestures
In wintertime, our love is warmer—
it walks from bath to bed each night
wrapped and rosy
after a day in heavy,hampering clothes
If skies are blue, our love is out of doors
— two people travelling in the sun to an unknown place,
unafraid and filled with joyful hope
If thunder rolls
our love is moody,
a refuge from the skulking rain and hail.
The lightning flirts across our faces.
Reminding of darkness and fear
Lear
Faustus
When spring flowers bloom,
snowdrops unrolled
bluebells dangling by the stream
and the celandine
our love is soft,
like quiet curved petals on the crocus.
When the autumn leaves down fall,
our love is deeper and we sink
into their soft bed
Our eyes are shining bright
like a harvest sheath of corn.
At Christmas,where ‘ll we be?
Even love is not all knowing
This is not a poem
Where are humans going?
This is never any poem
And nobody wrote it.
And nobody ever knows it.
| synonyms: | unshakeable, immovable, inflexible, unwavering, uncompromising,resolute, resolved, determined, firm, rigid, steadfast; More |
| antonyms: | unsure |
When those we loved are gone into the dark,
From where we come and so will also end;
Then mournful we await a living spark
To light the fire within and sorrow mend.
Reality is not absorbed whole;
Though we have seen, we cannot yet believe.
And pain torments our jagged heart and soul
Until in time the grace comes to receive.
We must believe that we can bear this load,
Even when we fall and lie forlorn.
Help may come or pain may be a goad.
Love may come from those we used to scorn.
To willingly accept may seem too hard,too grim.
Yet when we do ,the spirit grows within
How my heart sings 