May 2017's Showcase For Poemhunter Poets....[ A Mix Of This And That; 30 Or So Poems By 30 Or So Poets All On One (1) Page! ] Poem by Bri Edwards

I'm typing on a 'tablet', so Bri may soon be shouting.
If 'it' acts as it does at times, I also may be pouting!
April's showcase I hope.....found one or two new friends.
My goal: 'To allow you access, with few twists and bends'.

One poem per month by mostly 'PH FRIENDS; each not 'too' long.
Some of them are even suitable as lyrics, to AN engaging song.
Once my/our showcase is halfway full, I'll send to some of you.
But if YOU 'just can't wait', a search for 'May 2017's' will Do!

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The 'players' [authors] and their poem titles, in the order in which they were given to me OR 'stolen' by me for use in this monthly showcase:

AUTHORS & POEM TITLES:

1 - Bri Edwards

Animal Husbandry....[Marriage; Humor;
Inter-species Relationships; Medium length]

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2 - Della Perry

Marriage

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3 - Ruth Walters

No Football

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4 - Clarence Prince

Happy New Year!

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5 - Kelly Kurt

Kraptonite (Limerick)

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6 - Eugene Levich

Across A Crowded Room

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7 - Lyn Paul

So Many Questions

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8 - Sk. Nurul Huda

Call Of The Ladder

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9 - Is It Poetry

Burning Liquid Thoughts Are Thoughts Of Her

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10 - Rod Mendieta

Yodeling Fool

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11 - Akhtar Jawad

In An Eating Mood

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12 - Cynthia BuhainBaello

A Baby's Laughter

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'14' - Vanessa Hughes

Wishing To Meet!

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'13' - Sidi Mahtrow

[an UNTITLED poem-comment I found on poem #14's page]

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15 - Carolyn Brunelle

You'Re Not The Boss of Me

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Etc./etcetera until I have 30 or so poems by 30 poets.

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Bri's Note:

SINCE Maya Angelou is so prominently-featured on PH's main page,
I shall choose one of hers for #16.

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16 - Maya Angelou (4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)

Pickin Em Up and Layin Em Down

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Bri's Note:

To save space, I've left out 2nd and 3rd stanzas.

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17 - Savita Tyagi

Poetry

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18 - Darwin Henry Beuning

Melrose Morning

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19 - Long Tooth

The God of Broken Hearts

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20 - Paul (aka Andy) Brookes

Beeches

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21 - Elisabeth Anne Wingle

The Hag

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22 - Ging Taping

Second Chance...You Made Me Live Again (It's Been 5 Years)

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23 - Stuart Munro

Footballs So Exciting

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24 - Valsa George

Nuggets Of Wisdom - On Impermanence

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25 - Brian Johnston

Euthanizing Miracles

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26 -Nika McGuin

Passel Of Prisms

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27 - Simone Inez Harriman

Crashing The Hard Drive

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Bri's Note:

This (almost) shocking poem I added after sending out
the poems for this part of the showcase to some friends. :)

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28 - Annette Aitken

Dungeon.....(Of The Mind) ...

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29 - Lora Colon

Enough!

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30 - Bharati Nayak

The Tree

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31 - Lynn W. Petty [this is poem #1 of a 7-part series]

The Honeymoon

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Bri's Note:

Lynn's poem is the first poem in a series of 7, about a marital relationship.
I plan to feature the 7, in numerical order, in this and upcoming months.

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etc. up to 30.......... or MORE.......

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The AUTHORS and Titles and Texts of the POEMS, listed in REVERSE-CHRONOLOGICAL order of when they entered this showcase:

etc. up to 30 or more

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31 -by Lynn W. Petty


The Honeymoon

We stepped across the threshold, she and I,
Her body seemed so weightless pressed to mine.
The setting sun had haloed her dark hair,
A tender, loving warmth had filled her eyes.
Her words had rhapsodized within my mind,
'Alone, my own, alone for all of time.'
Sweet sounds of marriage filled those vacant rooms,
Our joy reverberated wall to wall.
Life's visions, hopes, its promises fulfilled
Through expectations of our youthful dreams.
The day had passed, now evening turned to dark,
She wore a black and lacy negligee.
I lifted her, I held her to my chest,
Her yielding body trembled with assent.

Holding each other that reverent night,
Smell of fresh linen, soft patter of rain.
Merging of flesh, indissolubly one,
Piercing the veil to the sanctum of life.
Soaring to heights on a thermal of love,
Spatial dimensions unmeasured by time.

A vast, sweet rush of silence covered us,
Enveloped, intertwining souls rose up
Ascending on a silver cord of bliss.
The night had spoken, dawn had broken clear,
Expectancy had filled the sunlit sky.

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Bri's Note:

The Honeymoon is the first in a series of 7 poems Lynn has
on PH as individual poems, but he would like them read
consecutively. the others are: 'How Beautiful is Woman Full
With Child, ' 'A Father, ' 'My Son, ' 'Childhood, '
'Brass Rings, ' and then' No Monarch, She..'
in that order.

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30 - by Bharati Nayak


The Tree

The tree stands green
Under the scorching sun
Branches spread wide
Roots going deep
Thousands and thousands leaves
Swaying their little heads
Colourful flowers bloom
For the bees and butterflies they make room
Squirrels jump dance
From branches to branches
Monkeys eat fruits
And so birds and squirrels
Have their shares
Underneath a dog curls up
There the cows flock to get the shadow
The tree stands tall like a Rishi(Monk)
With many hands stretched
Giving his blessings.

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Bri's Note:

Thanks, Bharati, for putting '(Monk) ' there.

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29 - by Lora Colon


Enough!

Shadows lengthen, day is almost done,
Laid to rest are dreams of tomorrow;
Flickering embers of a dying sun
Seem to mock my heart's wanton sorrow

O, Life, how falsely you've dealt with me!
Starving for love, I feasted on lies;
When my head was bowed in agony,
You sent hope, dressed in a new disguise

With hands wrapped around an empty glass,
Waiting for someone to pour the wine,
Through tear-filled eyes I watched the years pass,
Each night, praying that my star would shine

Enough! My eyes gave their share of tears,
(Though some higher force may disagree) ,
But I've moved beyond those threats and fears,
Dismissing that which I cannot see

My feet can no longer tread this path
Formed of craggy rocks, nettles and thorns,
Designed by some power, wielding its wrath
On beings it designed, and now scorns

My heart and I have suffered enough,
We long to lie 'neath some ancient tree
Where the woes of this world we'll rebuff,
And there we'll rest for eternity

Every tear from my eyes has been drained,
My life, to the last, remains unblessed;
Has not enough suffering been ordained?
Enough! I've earned my eternal rest!

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Bri's Note:

This poem is a little long for showcase, but
Bri 'rules the roost'! !

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28 - by Annette Aitken


Dungeon.....(Of The Mind) ...

Dungeon

Trapped within this dungeon
protruding spikes of spiralling
twisted metal creeps down
the turret stairwell.

The slamming of cast-iron doors
echoing as the damp moss-covered floors
and the overgrown ivy strangles
all it clings to.

Shadows lurking in every corner
as distant voices cry out
vibrations bouncing off the walls
as sunlight is buried beneath the ground.

Whilst the heart of a thoroughbred
races within my chest
galloping through the misty glens
as panic starts to set in.

Is there no escaping this dreadful place
will the darkness ever subside
will resting conscience, ever
allow peace to reside.

In this dark and dismal place, I call my mind.

(2016)

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27 - by Simone Inez Harriman


Crashing The Hard Drive

Your email
To: Sexy thing
Subject: Rendezvous
Recipient: Me
Spying
Checking up on you
Pain, hurt, disbelief
Delete
Home screen
There you are
Downloaded
Smiling with her
Lies, humiliation, deceit
Delete
I dismantle your files
Disassemble your memory
I crash the hard drive
Disabling me
Deleting you
Simone Inez Harriman

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Bri's Note:

The poem for this poet was LATE getting into the showcase.

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26 - by Nika McGuin


Passel Of Prisms

Sweet potato flowers
blooming in a Louisiana garden
a careful mix of beauty and fragility
are we two not the same?
are we all not the same?

Yet so different...
we are like flecks of light!
bouncing off of one another,
heading, sporadically, in different directions
all flashing in different shades and hues
but are we all not the same?
cast through a crystal prism
are we not all but refractions of sunlight?

So much time wasted,
in comparing and contrasting
discussing our differences in hue
that of: 'But I'm purple and he's blue.'
when all we are in essence
is wavelengths of spirit, soul, and light.

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Poet's Notes:

My whole point here is that we all come from the same place. Even though the rainbow is of many colors, it all stems from sunlight. Though humans come in many colors, the soul is colorless.

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25 - by Brian Johnston

Euthanizing Miracles

Theologians all euthanize miracle's glow,
Like a child might dehydrate and pin butterflies,
Jaundiced eye longs to render them all party tricks,
Puts the best under glass just to marginalize!

Shouldn't miracle God sends then serve greater cause
Might this not be a subject worth treating in kind?
If we search our Earth's history, thousands of years,
Won't necessity lead us at last to God's mind?

There are God taunting voices that cry, 'Bible's fake!
Written after the fact! Accounts pulled from the air! '
But where poetry lives, how can life be alone?
With Love's colors revealed, never naked and bare!

Yes, verse fleshes life out! Bone is not all that soft!
And the breath of life gives a new heartbeat to time,
Rhythms dancing, form floating, white light, no despair,
For God lives down the track in the tower of rhyme!

Explanations all languish if god is true GOD,
Even scientists fall back on 'models of truth! '
Serve Him still, but in Love, not to earn your reward,
Trust His Grace and have faith in soul's eternal youth.

(April 26,2017)

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Poet's Notes:

This poem is not meant to attack professional Theologians as a group but mildly suggests that Christianity is more about 'faith' than understanding the mind of God. Truly we are all Theologians to some extent, even Atheists, and Agnostics. Claiming to know the mind of God is heresy I'm guessing!

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24 - by Valsa George


Nuggets Of Wisdom - On Impermanence

Who can resist the strangulating grip of time?
That which exists today is not there tomorrow
Like shooting stars which vanish in the flicker of an eye
Life comes and goes quicker than a speeding arrow

When someone dear dies and our heart bleeds
And pours our anguish of wordless grief
Remember everything has to eventually die
Like bubbles bursting in a matter of time brief

The only constant in life is its inconstancy
With time, our existence could become a myth
As every sunrise follows a sundown
Each birth leads to an eventual death

In the fluidity of time, we are in a state of flux
Don't obdurately clutch at something in your arms
Instead loosen your grip and let things go
With the ease of water running down your palms

Every lovely flower that blossoms once
Fades in time and eventually turns brown
If a leaf clings tenaciously to the tree
When autumn blasts strike, it falls down

Thus when cruelly expelled by the tree that held it close
Down it lies withered, trampled by treading feet
To die and dissolve in the soil to make it fecund
Allowing fresh life to seeds lying dormant in wait

Impermanence being in the grand design of things
To nothing in this world, one can permanently cling
So, willingly give way to herald in the new,
As autumn leaves cannot be laundered for the spring!

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Bri's Note:

This poem is stretching my guideline for a poem's length
in a showcase, but I have gladly made a small concession
for such a talented poet, and good PH friend. Plus, she
sent me a nice gift; can you say: Rolex?

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23 - Stuart Munro


Footballs So Exciting

Footballs so exciting
I love to watch the ball bounce
As it goes from player to player
And dribbling ooo yes, I love dribbling
I want to dress up and paint my face
I really want to do that
I want to hug the mascot
And run on the pitch when we score
I nearly wet my pants when we score
Gosh, who's being transferred
Are we buying anybody
Oh oh oh oh yes we're buying a new player
wait till I tell mummy

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22 - by Ging Taping


Second Chance...You Made Me Live Again (It's Been 5 Years)

Ging.., ging! ', someone is calling
She tap my shoulder and gently shakes me
Groggy....My eyes rolled trying to figure out
A lady in green standing in front of me.
She smile at me
'How do you feel now? ' She ask
'Where am I? '
'You are here inside the recovery room
'You have been transferred from the operating room
your operation was successful..
Congratulations'....

I stayed in the hospital for 9 days
they said i am strong in a way..
i tried to be okey and be well
i was scared of my hospital bill
each passing day is not easy
whenever i saw the scar i felt pity
really sad and upset why me? why me?
i struggled with depression
i cried for no reason
i am helpless i am useless..
no one can go near..i throw them whatever i hold..
i shouted out i'm out of control


Thank God i recovered from my nightmare..
that i thought i couldn't bear..

[Bri has left the last 13 lines off of the poem;
please go to the poem's page to read the ending.

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Poet's Notes:

to be exact today March 25,2016 it's been 5 years now since i had open heart surgery..Today memories rolled by one by one keeps coming back.But today i am not sad at all. I am enjoying life. all though I've been in and out from the hospital due to complication I realized every second counts is important so make the best of everything..

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21 - by Elisabeth Anne Wingle


The Hag

I woke up this morning
Glanced in the mirror
Then without warning
The old hag appears

She looked at me closely
And then rolled her eyes
Sized me up, mostly
And then she just sighs

Used all my make-up, true
Drank most of my tea.
And when she was through
She looked just like me!

(9-20-15)

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20 - by Paul/Andy Brookes


Beeches

the trees look sad today
bare branched and lonely
birds have deserted for
sunnier climes.

they wait patient
these beeches in their
quiet secluded grove.

standing sentinel
marking seasons change
over topping the valley.

barren and lean they seem
but soon in Spring
rippling with new life

birds flighty things
and fair weather friends will
return from African adventures
to nest here in green cradling boughs

the wind soughs
making the trees creak
as if they are groaning, sighing
for long forgotten sun,
which has hidden her face
behind the veils of February.
the trees look sad today.

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19 - by Long Tooth


The God of Broken Hearts

If God's real, it seems clear He means hearts to be broken,
He didn't consult His creation at all!
You will note there's no mention in 'Biblical Fall, '
It was punishment garnered, or displeasure's token,
Though people conspire to avoid it like poison
And look for protection by hiding in reason.

Well, then why do I say that His purpose seems certain?
If men find this heinous, what draws God to pain,
Unless ALL of our feelings bless us in the main?
If made man 'in God's image, ' is death final curtain?
Remember you moaning for power to change things,
But how, if not broken, can man grok repairings?

As I learn I'm His child let me honor Him only,
My dreams be congruent with His Son and Heir,
Know when frightened I always remain in His care,
Find a place in MY heart I can share with the lonely,
Cry tears with Creation for those who don't know Him,
Help lift up slain Lamb, singing 'Grace' as God's anthem.

(April 22,2017)

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Bri's Note:

'Grok'? It's Martian to me!

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18 - by Darwin Henry Beuning


Melrose Morning

So joyful, but so painful
Mother's departure to God's table

Mother's apartment
Her essence fills the room

The clock ticking, the bird chirping
Waiting for the dawn

'Is the coffee on'

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Poet's Notes:

My mother, Lydia, left this world at 10: 51am,13 September 2012, with
my brother and I by her bedside. My mother's apartment had a bird clock
with many bird calls. She loved her coffee, and always had it ready for company.

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17 - by Savita Tyagi


Poetry

Countless poems
Like butterflies held tenderly in poet's heart
With colors of joy and gladness
Mingled with grief and sadness
Kindled sketches of subtle thoughts
And obscured imaginations
Abstract philosophies
And obsolete ideologies
Songs of love and vanity
Broken promises
Wounded emotions
War and revolution
Hopes and dreams
Till he decides to reconcile
And let them fly
Upon their delicate wings
To seek new destinations
To be free to meet or merge in new voice
To find their place upon an open palm
Or be caught in the web of a dream catcher
Fly lonely upon a cactus flower
Or be out there to breathe the garden beauty
Some time a poet has to bid adieu to his poetry
Just to be free
Just to be him or her.

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16 - by Maya Angelou [shortened to fit my space]


Pickin Em Up and Layin Em Down

There's a long-legged girl
in San Francisco
by the Golden Gate.
She said she'd give me all I wanted
but I just couldn't wait.
I started to
Pickin em up
and layin em down,
Pickin em up
and layin em down,
Pickin em up
and layin em down,
gettin to the next town
Baby.


{Bri has LEFT OUT the 2nd and 3rd stanzas.]


There ain't no words for what I feel
about a pretty face
But if I stay I just might miss
a prettier one some place
I started to
Pickin em up
and layin em down,
Pickin em up
and layin em down,
Pickin em up
and layin em down,
getting to the next town
Baby.

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15 - by Carolyn Brunelle


You'Re Not The Boss Of Me

It was easy enough to see
that she was very angry with me
I had put her in a horrible mood and
she wanted a few things understood.

'You're not the boss of me,
don't tell me what to do;
don't try to take care of me
if I've not even asked you to.

I'm a little old for this;
don't need my daddy's hand,
my momma's shoulder to cry on,
or somebody to help me stand.

A fully capable woman,
has no need to be overprotected;
it's rude to step in and take over,
and makes me feel disrespected.

I'm vocal and independent, with a
strength and mind of my own,
all you're doing is pissing me off
when your attention is overblown.

I may be older, but a whole lot wiser,
and you really need to see,
my age is not a sign of weakness
and you are NOT the boss of me.'

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Poet's Notes:

This poem is about an aging parent who is fighting to maintain independence with well meaning adult children who have become over zealous in their caretaking. It switches from the view of the adult child, to the aging parent after the first stanza.

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Bri's Note:

poems # 12,13,14, and 15 are from MyPoemList aka 'my favorite poems list', from
about five years ago. Some of the poets (13,14, and maybe 15) seem inactive
on PH at this time.

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14 - by Vanessa Hughes


Wishing To Meet!

A middle-aged lady wishing to meet,
Someone who doesn't lift the loo seat,
A person who doesn't have a right side to dress
Someone who wears a bra not a vest
I suppose what I mean in a roundabout way
Is I want a woman, cos I'm thoroughly gay!

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Bri's Note:

The next poem, #13, I found on 'Wishing To Meet! ' 's
page

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13 - by Sidi Mahtrow


[an UNTITLED poem left as a comment on the previous poem,
'Wishing To Meet! ']

How I wish others would not say;
And misuse the word, gay
For in other times and places
Gay had the meaning of happiness.

Now for some reason unknown
It's to lift the darkness and let light be shown
On others who have passions
With sexual overtones.

So dance to a different drummer if you like
But call it what it is, (is another word a dike?)

No offense is intended for we all must do what we must do
But please leave joy, happiness and gay as the best of old and new.
And be vivacious, lively, sprightly, animated, merry, blithe, and other whims
Such as jocular, jovial, jolly, playful, frolicsome, and sportive (to quote Webster's synonyms.)

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12 - by Cynthia BuhainBaello


A Baby's Laughter

Each time I hear a baby's laughter
I feel a tickle in my heart.

I have to stop and listen better
Catching each note of musical art.

Such innocent laugh in joy released,
A soothing balm for a wearied soul.

All earthly worries seem to ease,
A baby's laughter makes me whole.

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Poet's Note:

(Composed July 18,2008 -Tarlac City Philippines)

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11 - by Akhtar Jawad


In An Eating Mood

I enjoy myself when I am in an eating mood,
I don't think of myself when I am an eater,
Everything is forgotten it's only dish and my hunger.
When I think now I have grown old!
I start looking for the remains of enzymes in me,
and when I get one I remain sticking to it.
When I think what a heavy dish I used to eat
I make myself a sick man,
who has been suffering from indigestion
and he can not take heavy enriched diets
he has no alternate but to eat light food she serves
that I can digest easily.
But when I think what an enriched dish she used to serve
I forget my indigestion
and I don't know how I manage to make the light food
the same old baked brownish chicken
with exciting lemon juice and appetizing salads
and spread of tomato ketchup on a spicy chicken.
She knows me very well
and keeps a bottle of cold beverage in the refrigerator
it all ends well with a kiss of lemon and lime.

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10 - by Rod Mendieta [shortened by Bri]


Yodeling Fool

I often dreamt of Swiss chocolate raining down
From the heavens above
And quaint Swiss clocks ticking accurately,
Making our messy little lives more precise,
And plump Swiss cows decked with wreaths of daisies
And tinkling bells, gracing our sun-parched meadows,
Forcing all those scraggy little goats
Into an early retirement, for the sake of a more
Postcard-perfect touch on our drab countryside.
Switzerland! Oh blessed piece of paradise
Transplanted to our bleak earth!
With ruddy yodelers showing us the way
To a higher form of communication!
Oh I yodel in praise of Switzerland:
‘Yodel-ay, yodel-oo, yodel-ay-hee-hoo! '
Little wonder I tired of those bleak, unSwiss-like lands
Sold all my possessions and,
Deeming myself computer-savvy enough,
Got me my tickets online and moved to Switzerland,
And though the heat was unbearable
And the din of distant tribal drums a bit unsettling
I plucked up courage and fresh upon arrival
Put on my knee-length leather breeches
And Tyrolean hat and climbed to the highest peak,
There to yodel to my heart's content:

[see Bri's Note, below]

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Bri's Note:

I chopped off about 17 lines at the 'end' of this great
poem; you may find those 'missing' lines on the poem's page! :)

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9 - by Is It Poetry


Burning Liquid Thoughts Are Thoughts Of Her

From the ancient garden where she dwelled,
I came unto myself inside of her.
Liquid thoughts, the sun high over head and
Knowing things one knows one did not read.
More knowledge,
Lost in fires that men have set as if a flame
Out where it's dark, less men forget.
None remember that one day before they came,
Now is not the night that has not come.
The sort we are to them seems very strange,
So fewer as some were are fewer now.
Golden liquid thoughts, I came inside of her,
In that ancient garden where it was we met.
As we fight to love because of it,
Spent breath, the lives we've had before,
And the words that we once spoke.
When two are one, that are no more.

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8 - by Sk. Nurul Huda


Call Of The Ladder

The east breeze and the dawn gone
And the divine eye to its falling action
Oh the south wind too are in dying bed
All the three windows are closed
For the light and air only the door
Oh it is in the north paving the chill wind
Let it be closed
The warm room is closed now
Now the green paddy is grey straw
Thoughts are dead now..

What is it in the corner?
Yes it is the loving ladder
To enter into another.

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7 - by Lyn Paul


So Many Questions

Can't you hold on while the trees grow?
Can't we together, watch the wind blow?
Can we not walk along the beach as we always did?
And talk all night until we fall asleep

Can I survive without you each day?
Will this darkness ever... go away?
My life was so perfect... Yet now time is standing still
Now I must go on... I CAN and I WILL!

I can be strong, just for you I will
You have given me so much, your courage and your love
I will now remember you watching me from above

With you being so strong, This will make me stronger
I shall move on... Knowing your love and your strength will follow

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6 - by Eugene Levich


Across A Crowded Room

Across a crowded room
I saw a woman who touched my heart,
A woman I didn't know.
Pretty, but no prettier than others
Who affect me not at all.
Why did she touch me so?
It remains impossible to know.

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5 - by Kelly Kurt


Kraptonite (Limerick)

Near-Invincible Man wouldn't go
His arch-enemy had a plan tho
Coprolite through the head
With his last breath he said
That's my one weakness, how did you know

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4 - by Clarence Prince


Happy New Year!

Seeing as this present year, serves its term,
The season's showing that it's leaving town
Nothing left for it to mow down or to crown
It's saying goodbye, its going back home
On its own, the same way, it came alone
Whatever the weather, it's homeward bound
Silently it shall fly; no one shall hear a sound
Wisely, it knows how long it has to stay
Making space, it's getting out of the way
Knowing that the New Year is coming soon
For many, it's leaving much gloom and doom
And plenty of work for the New Year to do
Makes the cooing bird finds a reason to coo
Much work it has left the coming year to do
Everywhere upon the land and out in the blue
How much strain no one is yet with a clue
Even so, good for those who know the truth
Look not, for Him, in the west, east, nor south
Just prepare to welcome the coming year
In closing, say with me, happy New Year!

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3 - by Ruth Walters


No Football

When we first met we didn't,
it wasn't on the menu.
Of course it had me curious
I gave it much attention.

In April we indulged,
we were so very proud,
bouncing on the sofa
we did it in the lounge!

Later, in July
there was a time, I think
when we hit all the high notes
a few times by the sink.

In Autumn he got lazy
all this just had him spent
so I baked him pastries
and he ate those instead.

New Year was so merry
we drunk all Daddy's Sherry
I think perhaps we did it,
I wasn't really with it.

Last time was the best
and lasted quite a while
it was in Central Park
We had a bloomin' lark.

These days we just don't,
he's got so fat and heavy,
except for when we're bored
and no football's on the telly.

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Bri's Note: I guess I'd better lose weight and
turn off the 'telly'!

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2 - by Della Perry


Marriage

She stood as an angel
Swathed in white
Halo glowed on hair, golden
As the sun it shone.

He stood as a prince,
Proud in armour
A suit, with tails, black
As the starry sky.

Their hands joined together
Two became one
A lifetime of love and joy
Was to become.

Bells chimed out their joy
Souls became as one.

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1 - by Bri Edwards


Animal Husbandry...... [marriage; Humor; Inter-species Relationships; Medium]

You, out there, who read this, AND are agriculturally-adept,
may be surprised at my definition of (see title) , AND ……with WHAT I've slept.

I came into this world, born of two married humans; I'm sure
most of you were too.
But NO human wife I'VE had. Instead, when I think 'animal husbandry', I think of 'ARF', or 'QUACK', or 'MOO'.

My first wife (I was her 'husband') was a long-haired Collie bitch.
When she met me at the door each night, her graceful tail did twitch.

She'd nuzzle me behind my right ear, with her pointy nose,
and if she said she was 'in heat', to the occasion I often rose.

She left me for a Pit Bull, Pete, who'd once been my best friend.
I KNOW he was more handsome and made more money. My first marriage thus did end.

My next wife was a Mallard (a duck; a hen) : I met her at a pond.
It was 'love at first sight' for me, ....and I'm sure, of me, she was fond.

I helped her build a nest one year, but there were no fertile eggs to follow.
That I could not have ducklings with her, was very hard for me to swallow.

We thought about adopting. The agency said …………..'NO WAY! '.
After that we drifted apart. No alimony did I have to pay.

A year later, passing a pasture, I found my current wife, Daisy.
She's the cutest cow I ever saw. She drives me udderly 'crazy' …..

with thoughts of how I should have met HER first. She's been my favorite wife.
I live with her in the country, …..to avoid the city pollution and strife.

No children we want, my looks are fine(with her) , she doesn't mind being poor.
And now when I run out of milk, I don't have to 'run' ….to the grocery store.

(June 16,2014)

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READERS,

Thanks for stopping by. I hope it was painless (enough) .....for you! !

Bri Edwards...also known in the 'Real World' as Brian Edward Whitaker.


Bri :)

See you in June?