Pumpkin Pathos

ABC WEDNESDAY
http://abcwednesday-mrsnesbitt.blogspot.com.au/
letter 'P'

PUMPKIN PATHOS

I sing of the pumpkin,
So golden of hue,
Which wakes in the meadow
All sparkling with dew.
He knows that he's ready
And fatly mature.
He'll end up as dinner
Of that he is sure.
Imagine the shock
When he's carved with a knife!
It's not how he thought
He would exit this life.
His mother had told him
He'd be on a plate,
And he had been, secretly,
Proud of this fate.
He knew he'd be tasty,
He knew he'd be praised,
And he knew that for this
Useful task he'd been raised.
I sing of the pumpkin
Who's really surprised
When he finds as a human
He has been disguised.

They've chopped and they've gouged

Till he looks like a man!

He hadn't expected 

This change to the plan!

When someone lights a candle

Inside his carved shell,

How the pumpkin reacts

It's not easy to tell.

But suffice it to say

(And, I beg you, don't mock)

Our big handsome pumpkin

Is in for a shock.

*

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LOST LOVE

Losing love is like losing life;

The pain of it twists like a knife.

Everything single thing he said

Writhes and pierces in your head.

You feel that you cannot go on,

Because your Only Love  has gone.

You're completely devastated;

When he said 'Love' was it then he Hated?

Has it all been a pretence?

Nothing's making any sense.

*

The thought of death is in your mind;

So sweet, so soft, so dark, so kind.

Death, which could take the pain away

And, at the same time, make him pay!

How he'll suffer when he learns

That you've gone to the land of No Returns!

Maybe you'll hover above his head

And hear his response to the sad words said....

'She's killed herself! Oh no! Oh no!

Why did someone so lovely go?

She was an angel! I see that now!

I'll repent for ever! This I vow!'

You'll have had your revenge. You'll have saved your pride.

In the course of which, of course, you've died!

*

I was a young girl long ago,

So this sad scenario I know.

This is a message I send in rhyme;

'It'll get better, given time.'

Punish him by living well.

Play-acting can often break a spell.

Pretend his hateful words weren't spoken

Pretend your heart was never broken.

Go out and act a happy part;

Then watch the healing process start!

In months, or, maybe, in a year

You'll forget you ever shed a tear.

Suicidal thoughts will have truly waned;

Instead if losing, you'll have gained.

You'll be involved in your Plan B

And Lover Boy will be......

Memory.

*

Baa Baa

PINK SATURDAY

BAA BAA

(Go on! Sing it!)

Baa baa, pink sheep,

Someone dyed your wool,

It's quite rare

And colourful.

When we see you

How we blink!

We have never seen a sheep that's pink

*

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A PASSING THOUGHT

When one looks out at the immensity of Space

One feels vulnerable

Unimportant,

Less than nothing.

I am inclined to think

That the Universe is a brain

And I am just a figment

Of its imagination.

*

Oh Dear!

MELLOW YELLOW MONDAY
http://mellowyellowmonday.blogspot.com.au/

OH DEAR!

Don't you just love this cartoon!

Old age is certain to come too soon!

And then the bits of tattoo art

Will very slowly make a start

To slide and slither, crease and crinkle,

Disappearing in each wrinkle,

Until that bird of Paradise

Becomes a shape that's not too nice.

It may look like a draggled chook!

And that is not the cutest look!

What's started out as a sweet love-heart

May soon migrate to some other part!

Down to the buttock it may slither

Where it may misshape itself and wither.

It may end up as a shapeless blob,

And, Granny, that will make you sob.

Piercings (another modern fad)

Are ghastly, but not quite as bad,

Because, when the silly age is past

You can get rid of them....and fast!

But tattoos, sweetheart, are for ever.

I don't think you have been too clever!

*

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PLASTIC ROMANCE

Said the Little Mauve Bike to the Little Green 'Thing'

'I always feel skittish in the Spring.

The Yellow Top Twins are a boring pair;

The way you look is much more rare.

It's clear you don't conform to the herd;

I'd like to be your Dolly Bird.'

(You must agree that it's fantastic

How I've found romance in some lumps of plastic!)

*

The Cure

THE MAG

http://magpietales.blogspot.com.au/

supplied the illustration

THE CURE

Mistress Mead! You are unwell!

I'm a Doctor; I can tell.

I even know the troublesome part;

I'm sorry to tell you, it's your heart.

*

Doctor! Can't you cut it out?

It's beyond fixing, there's no doubt.

Can't you find someone who's died,

And just slip his good heart inside?

*

Mistress Mead! You are delirious!

Now I know your case is serious!

Such a cure can never be!

It's an impossibility!

*

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                                                 Monet

AN IMPRESSION OF AN IMPRESSION

Orange sun, gazing at its own reflection.

The bustling dockyard, softened by morning mist.

The muted conversation in the little boat.

The rhythm of the rowlocks.

Clouds, lit from beneath, like a canopy.

The mist rising.

Hold back the garish day!

*

Times Past

    The Wordle 

SUNDAY WHIRL

We are asked to use all the words in the Wordle.


TIMES PAST

There among the willows where the breeze blew through the trees

I sat down on the soft grass, writing, at my ease.

The rustle of the summer leaves was all that broke the calm,

And every aspect of the scene was infused with peace and charm.

Should I write a poem full of heartfelt grateful thanks

As I sat beside the river, on its gently sloping banks?

*

Then, suddenly, a knowledge! A scene from long ago,

A certain realisation that life was not always so!

A vision of a battle, fought in this very spot!

A time in ancient history when blood was running hot!

The swords are taken from the sheaths, and piercing screams are heard,

An unbearable fever grips the men, as deep wounds are incurred!

Ancient passions  now explode! Brittle bones are breaking!

Wounds crust over, throats are cut, men are left bruised and shaking.

*

Then, just as the vision had arrived, its tale of battle sending,

It faded, and I knew my soul could recover and be mending.

But my Muse had slipped away from me, appalled by grief and pain.

I will never choose that river bank  to write poetry again.

*

*
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HEAD IN THE CLOUDS

Mary Jane

Was rather vain

And also rather dreamy;

Although, 'tis true

Her eyes were blue

And her skin was peach-and-creamy.

The crinoline

That she was in

Was white and frilled and flouncy,

And she'd waltz and sway

Right through the day,

With steps elegant and bouncy.

Her Mother said

'Your silly head

Is in the clouds for sure!

One day you'll fly

Up in the sky

And we'll see you no more!'

And look! It's true!

Up in the blue,

Still crinolined and dreamy,

Is Mary Jane

Singing this refrain....

'Now everyone can see me!'

*

Hopeless Love

POETIC BLOOMINGS

http://poeticbloomings.com/

asks us to attempt a minnesang

A minnesang is a courtly love-poem style from 12th century Germany, usually set to music and nearly always dealing with unrequited love.

HOPELESS LOVE

Our eyes meet and I know that love,

That mingling of heart and mind,

Is flowing to me from above.........

Your gaze is of a loving kind.

And yet, your great nobility

Cannot, will not stoop to me.

For you are destined for a King,

While I am but a lowly knight.

You speak, and all the angels sing;

You smile, the world is flushed with light.

But, for all my manly chivalry

You cannot, will not stoop to me.

*

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PINK PEDALLING

One expression everyone knows

Is that French one.... 'Vie en rose'.

Looking at life through a rosy glow

Is better than facing the status quo.

And, surely, a rosy bicyclette

Is the very best thing discovered yet

For whizzing through life without a care,

Blithe and young and free of care.

Pessimists say, of course, at this juncture.......

'It's bound to happen......you'll get a puncture!'

*

Serene Senility

         Brenda Bryant

WEEKEND IN BLACK AND WHITE

http://blackandwhiteweekend.blogspot.com.au/

SERENE SENILITY

If only we could bear our scars as proudly as this tree,

And soldier on against all odds into senility!

It's felt the wind blowing harsh and strong and still it's stood erect;

It's felt the drought crisping at its toes and suffered the neglect.

It's known the rain and known the hail; it's been battered and been bruised;

The lightning's shivered round its limbs and it has felt misused.

It's wrinkled now and out of shape; the future's looking grim;

But like a banner it reveals its crude, misshapen limb.

Yet still it stands erect and proud, waving its crown of green.

As proud to be a part of life as it has ever been.

No Botox here, no magic creams, no startling cures for age,

For it accepts that senility is just another stage.

*

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CONVERSATION PIECE

And do they have a conversation

As they sit here in the sun?

Two old friends who've been together

Since their working lives were begun?

Do they discuss the sitters

When they get up to leave,

And when some go never to return

Do the two seats ever grieve?

'We haven't seen Sarah lately;

I wonder if she's been ill.'

(Sarah never did return

And the seats are waiting still.)

Seeing them sitting face to face

Casting shadows on the fence

Gives them a strangely human air.

But they probably talk more sense!

*