Free Republic
Browse · Search
General/Chat
Topics · Post Article

Skip to comments.

~The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread~XXII
August 28, 2005 | bentfeather/The Poets of the Lair

Posted on 08/28/2005 2:26:23 AM PDT by Soaring Feather

My Dragon Fly and Me

If I could be a Dragon Fly
and wing my way through the sky
I would never be shy
just me and my Dragon Fly!

By moonlight we ride the wind
chase the comets tail for fun
by day we would hide from the sun
our fragile wings would come undone

On darkest nights we would use
fireflies as our guide
we would dip and we would glide
through the heavens open wide
and scatter diamonds in the night sky
my Dragon Fly and me...

And we would wing past our lovers
silent in the night...
to kiss their face in our flight
much to their surprise and delight
my Dragon Fly and me in sight...

Such a view do we share
away up here in the air
of breezes soft through our hair
my Dragon Fly and me a pair...

bentfeather©





TOPICS: Poetry
KEYWORDS: classicpoetry; freespirits; haiku; humor; laughter; melody; music; musiclyrics; originalpoetry; soulfest
Navigation: use the links below to view more comments.
first 1-5051-100101-150151-200 ... 1,001-1,029 next last

Two years celebrating the craft of writing.
Thank You All.

~The Dragon Flies' Lair was first posted August 27, 2003 ~

~A place to write a few lines of poetry or prose.~

~ Links to all threads.~

The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread I
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread II
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread III
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread IV
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread V
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread VI
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread VII
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread VIII
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread IX
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread X
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XI
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XII
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread XIII
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XIV
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XV
The Dragon Flies'Lair~Thread XVI
The Dragon Flies'Lair~Thread XVII
The Dragon Flies'Lair~Thread XVIII
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XIX

The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XX

The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XXI




1 posted on 08/28/2005 2:26:33 AM PDT by Soaring Feather
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | View Replies]

To: SouthernHawk; Jet Jaguar; Texas Songwriter; laurenmarlowe; HopeandGlory; SAMWolf; ...
The Dragon Flies' Lair
New Thread Ping

bentfeather


2 posted on 08/28/2005 2:32:51 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

Onward Christian Soldiers

3 posted on 08/28/2005 2:41:28 AM PDT by Kathy in Alaska (~ www.ProudPatriots.org ~ Operation Semper Fi ~a field hospital~)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 2 | View Replies]

To: Kathy in Alaska

Good morning, Kathy.

Wonderful hymn for today. Thank you so much.

We pray for protection of our nation and her deployed troops.


4 posted on 08/28/2005 2:44:02 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 3 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

Good morning, Miss Feather! Congratulations on the happy anniversary!


5 posted on 08/28/2005 6:48:06 AM PDT by Colonel_Flagg ("Pardon me while I have a strange interlude. " - Captain Jeffrey T. Spaulding)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 4 | View Replies]

To: Colonel_Flagg

Morning, Colonel.

Thank You.


6 posted on 08/28/2005 7:59:26 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 5 | View Replies]

To: HopeandGlory; All
Hope, all, I am reposting this lovely poem on the new thread.
This is lovely, thank you.


The Dragonflies Lair
is a haven for me,
a serene quiet place
of sanctuary.

Where like minds can gather
our stories to tell,
from deep down inside us,
erupting, like an endless well.

Sometimes when we think
we're running on empty,
we're prompted by a "Fellow"
and then, we find plenty.

We help one another
when we're in despair,
no wonder I love
This Dragonflies Lair.

rim 8/27/05

7 posted on 08/28/2005 10:31:42 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 6 | View Replies]

To: WayzataJOHNN; All

Reposting to new thread...



To: bentfeather
Silent shifts of luminecences
brings forth His day of Faith again
and we are given lessons in joy and pain
by the caring heart of the Innocent

Let all who see, thank Him for sight
Let all who hear, thank Him for much
Let all who feel, thank Him for touch
Let all who think, thank Him for insight

Let all who bow in humble faith, feel grace
and share it with an open heart so free
for them we gift all about as it should be
until the day we see His gentle face.



1,142 posted on 08/28/2005 1:09:20 AM EDT by WayzataJOHNN
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1139 | View Replies | Report Abuse ]


8 posted on 08/28/2005 10:33:17 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 7 | View Replies]

To: La Enchiladita

Special ping.


9 posted on 08/28/2005 12:45:20 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 8 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

Special thank you. ;-]


10 posted on 08/28/2005 1:22:05 PM PDT by La Enchiladita (Remembering our Heroes today and every day. . . "Operation Gratitude")
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 9 | View Replies]

To: La Enchiladita; All

Another treasure from the most recent thread.

La Enchiladita graciously gave permission to repost this poem.

Thank You



HAPPY 2nd ANNIVERSARY TO THE DRAGONFLIES' LAIR!!!
(My regards and admiration to "Queenie" Ms. Bentfeather, to all you poets who are my inspiration...)

Gentleness seeks a gentle place
To rest awhile and ease the pace
Of daring and heroic deeds
Rest awhile and plumb the soul
Silenced by the rock and roll and crowds
And dust, by work’s harsh glare
Remember twilight, the hush
Of time suspended

Say hello to morning and hear
The reply in lairdom where kindred
Meet to sweeten grief and attendant
Woes, to wonder at wasps and
Beating wings --- perhaps of angels,
Perhaps of stings,
To roll in hay with childish glee,
To say I know … knowingly.

Retreat and enter life more fully,
Be pebble, pond and ripple,
Be skimming dragonfly.
Be dreamer and dare
To rest awhile at the Lair.

L.E., 8/27/05


1,116 posted on 08/27/2005 2:39:59 PM EDT by La Enchiladita (Remembering our Heroes today and every day. . . "Operation Gratitude")
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1088 | View Replies | Report Abuse ]


11 posted on 08/28/2005 1:33:33 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 10 | View Replies]

To: All
Rolling This Dream

Sunrise in sadness

rolling this dream memory over,

forgetting

the rhythms of darkness

control time,

it cannot heal pain.

bentfeather
08.28.05


12 posted on 08/28/2005 1:54:02 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 11 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather


Our fragile earth,
so blue from space,
gives us a berth,
albeit, a tenuous place.

Hurricane's show,how ineffectual we are
at combating Nature,
Environmentalists,
what say you now?

We're tossed around
like so much waste,
from Natural forces, and
yes, we fall flat on our face.

Those who advocate,
that we can control,
the awesome power unleashed,
well, it's all hyperbole.

Our time on this earth,
is an alloted amount,
so, beware Human Race,
We're only here, by Gods Grace.

rim 8/28/05


Thank you for bringing my poem forward Miss Feather . . .I'm honoured!!!


13 posted on 08/28/2005 7:47:24 PM PDT by HopeandGlory (Hey, Liberals . . . PC died on 9/11 . . . GET USED TO IT!!!)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 7 | View Replies]

To: HopeandGlory
Good evening, Hope. You're most welcome, I love the poem.

You're poem this evening is all too, true.

The winds of nature
we don't control
flaying about as
seeds of hay
the palm up roots
the roofs give way
we humans flee
in wonder and awe
the power of nature
wild and free
no constraints can
we put on her
we have to wait.

For her
ranging and ranting
looking with one eye
and fooling those in the path
the quiet of it's passing
a rouse it be in the eye
her fury she rents as her
skirts drag behind
blowing all asunder with
her mighty tail wind.

bentfeather
08.29.05

14 posted on 08/28/2005 8:00:30 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 13 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather; everyone
Thank you for the response Miss Feather . . .your poems always seem to come so effortlessly . . . Sometimes mine do . . . but, not always . . . ;-)

Prayers going up for the People in New Orleans and the whole Gulf Coast . . . God be with you all.

Goodnight everyone . . . see you tomorrow.

15 posted on 08/28/2005 8:30:41 PM PDT by HopeandGlory (Hey, Liberals . . . PC died on 9/11 . . . GET USED TO IT!!!)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 14 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

Part of my job is seeing and hearing things I wished didn't happen, but know they will, as long as humans are all too human. This poem is a dark poem, more because its all too often part of someone's life then we might like to admit.

Domestic Hell

In the once comforting dark,
her large luminous eyes,
shine like ebony jewels bright,
like the tears on her tiny cheeks.

Her tiny fear so strong it reeks,
as she lies in the darkness in fright,
listening to her mother’s painful cries,
until dawn’s first glimmering spark.

Like booze, arguments and anger flow,
words that are so strong they sting,
her parents vent their frustrations now,
and she lies in the dark in her own fear.

Fearing neither parent remembers what’s dear,
cries of pain and anger together ring,
and in the dark room she hears the row,
somewhere near dawn comes the first blow.

A slamming door, her daddy is gone to work, or away,
and mommy is silent, so silent it all seems so wrong,
hours pass without end, and she is so hungry there,
then a big man in blue comes in and shakes his head.

A lady took her away, for mommy couldn’t, she said,
so strangers would have to give her some loving care
daddy she never saw again, or heard his go-to-sleep song,
they said he had a terrible debt, so he had to go away to pay.

She lies in a darkened room, and hears memories again,
wondering if they will ever go away like daddy did,
and fearing they might, and then she’d be so alone,
and its so hard growing up in a stranger’s home this way.

She longs for someone to say its all ok, so she can play,
with mommy and daddy once again, her punishment to atone,
lost in the dark, she burrows under the covers, time she hid,
maybe one day she would hear the words that would end her pain.





16 posted on 08/28/2005 9:47:53 PM PDT by WayzataJOHNN
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 14 | View Replies]

To: WayzataJOHNN

Yes, there is this side of life
Some walk in darkness, beatings and strife
the scars are carried on the skin
but those inside, buried deep
are more painful than those
visible to the human eye.

The soul scars are etched
in tissue and flesh
the brain tapes are played
when not a request

They undermine the human
trying to do best
the negative tapes play
night and day
the tapes need a cleaning
a blank space to start
a new set of scenes a new guide
to follow sometimes it's hard
the learning new ways

but not impossible to
fly with the breeze.



17 posted on 08/29/2005 7:03:30 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 16 | View Replies]

To: La Enchiladita; AZamericonnie; SouthernHawk; Jet Jaguar; Texas Songwriter; laurenmarlowe; ...

Good morning everyone.

18 posted on 08/29/2005 7:05:51 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 17 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

"but not impossible to
fly with the breeze."

That is so very, very true, and the most powerful thing one can do!

Good morning Lady Fair


19 posted on 08/29/2005 9:54:02 AM PDT by WayzataJOHNN
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 17 | View Replies]

To: WayzataJOHNN

Good morning to you Johnn.


Trust you are hale and hardy this day.


We do hold that power don't we. Our wings have broken the surly bonds of earth.


20 posted on 08/29/2005 9:59:43 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 19 | View Replies]

To: WayzataJOHNN; All
Inside His Contest

Icy unforgiving embrace

a broken desire

inside, his contest to

earth's edge

pales the heart's

journey to her.

bentfeather


21 posted on 08/29/2005 10:12:44 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 20 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather; HopeandGlory

Good morning... (yawn, stretch...West coast time ... Monday)

The last report I saw on Katrina was she might not hit land as hard as feared ... but a fierce storm all the same.


22 posted on 08/29/2005 10:21:55 AM PDT by La Enchiladita (Remembering our Heroes today and every day. . . "Operation Gratitude")
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 18 | View Replies]

To: La Enchiladita

Good morning, your time. It's 1:30 pm here, EDT.

Yes, a fierce storm, indeed. We can hope Katrina has spent most of her wrath. Prayers up for those in her path.


23 posted on 08/29/2005 10:35:09 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 22 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather
No poetry here....just a bit of Monday cheer! lol

Good day Ms. Feather!


24 posted on 08/29/2005 11:21:40 AM PDT by AZamericonnie (~ www.ProudPatriots.org ~Operation Semper Fi ~a field hospital~)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 20 | View Replies]

To: AZamericonnie

Howdy Connie. Nice to see ya!!


25 posted on 08/29/2005 11:28:51 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 24 | View Replies]

To: WayzataJOHNN; HopeandGlory; laurenmarlowe; All
The Old Man's Garden

The old man's garden and my back yard
are divided by a line fence.

Each Spring he plants onions, sweet peas
and green beans. When they are done yielding
their crop he pulls them and composts them in the row.

Next come the tomatoes and the black berries.
The birds beat him to the berries every year.
His grapevine needs pruning, but you see
his cataract covered eyes cannot see to prune.
And he is ninety two now, and can't string the
mesh up to protect the grapes from the birds
and squirrels.

We chat across the fence each spring,
he complains about he oak tree poisoning
his soil and casting shade on his garden.

I listen and nod my head
he said, one day to me,
"oh it's you, someone told me you were dead."


bentfeather
26 posted on 08/29/2005 7:41:42 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 25 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

Oh Ms. Feather, what a lovely story! Poor, sweet Old Man.

I wonder how many years he has been planting that same garden each Spring?

I'm certainly glad you're still here to tell the story!


27 posted on 08/29/2005 7:57:26 PM PDT by laurenmarlowe
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 26 | View Replies]

To: laurenmarlowe
He has lived in his house for over 60 years, raised his kids there. He is a retired Post Office employee. His wife is still alive and drives their car to get groceries. She taught piano in her home. I know some of her students.

They are very independent.
Actually that is one of two gardens he plants. He sets out frames in Feb to get things going. He is out working everyday for short periods of time. Amazing folks. Mows his own lawn too, with a gas mower.
28 posted on 08/29/2005 8:11:51 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 27 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

Truly a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing! They have led a good, honest life. I hope I can be so fortunate.


29 posted on 08/29/2005 8:19:40 PM PDT by laurenmarlowe
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 28 | View Replies]

To: All

I went into my bed
my body told me I was tired
but sleep eluded me
my thoughts turned to you

I closed my eyes
and met you in the stars

bentfeather





I held night
saw it sparkle
twilight arrived with
your face carved
across my dawn
holding the essence of you
in my bones...

bentfeather
06.06.04


30 posted on 08/29/2005 8:46:38 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 29 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather; everyone


Gardening still at Ninety two,
and still going strong,
prefering to wear out, not rust, that
surely can't be wrong.

His life still has purpose,
even tho' eyes are dim,
his garden's still important to him,
tho' his vines he cannot trim.

Visiting with neighbours,
are some of lifes true joys,
sharing Gods bounty across the fence,
our faith in men doth restore.

rim 8/29/05


Good evening Miss Feather . . .I really enjoyed your story and it has inspired this poem in return.

Goodnight everyone . . .see you tomorrow.


31 posted on 08/29/2005 9:10:00 PM PDT by HopeandGlory (Hey, Liberals . . . PC died on 9/11 . . . GET USED TO IT!!!)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 26 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

Setting the Stage

The Beggars Wind comes on cats paws,
and the year seems to race into the golden time.
Every tree will soon surrender to autumn’s laws,
and nature fits the world to her ancient rhyme.

Nights grow slowly clearer and mists are dearer,
and clouds race the moon across an ebon sky.
Nights are changing time becoming ever crisper,
and hints of gold and red highlight the leaves that die.

Trees rustle in near silent speech, to talk of passing time,
and wind song sings of things lost or gone beyond.
Seasons and life garbs itself in a new cloth of mime,
and we watch life’s new act upon our stage so fond.


32 posted on 08/29/2005 10:21:59 PM PDT by WayzataJOHNN
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 30 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

In Appreciation

As soft as gossamer I caress her cheek
so as not to wake her from her sleep.
I watch her at rest, and see the things I seek,
and my heart surges forth in a lover’s leap.

Her rising breast rhythmically fills with airy life,
her cheeks flushed with a dream’s emotions sweet.
Her long lashes flicker in sleep, as dreams run rife,
and I watch them, passing across her face so fleet.

Her lips pout in some memory, and she smiles,
and I grin, for I know I was there to hold and share.
Her alabaster skin glows, her hair a golden pile,
and I lay silent and watch her, my living art, with care.


33 posted on 08/29/2005 10:34:52 PM PDT by WayzataJOHNN
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 30 | View Replies]

To: HopeandGlory; WayzataJOHNN; All

Lovely treasures left in the air
I left early to enjoy the wet, night air
it rained here tonight-what a joy
it's been many months without water
soaking the ground or filling the air.

Many little gems of joy
the Lair poets post for all to soak up

grateful we are the Lair does not dry up
her many wells are still untapped
a hidden ground swell reserve
our poets save time for us in words.


34 posted on 08/30/2005 4:45:07 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 31 | View Replies]

To: La Enchiladita; AZamericonnie; SouthernHawk; Jet Jaguar; Texas Songwriter; laurenmarlowe; ...

Good morning everyone.

35 posted on 08/30/2005 4:49:20 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 34 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

That was quite the punchline..!! There's nothing like sharing the joys and tribulations of gardening. I'm so glad he can still garden at 92! Thanks, feathery one.


36 posted on 08/30/2005 12:09:28 PM PDT by La Enchiladita (Remembering Our Heroes, Today and Everyday ... "Operation Gratitude")
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 26 | View Replies]

To: HopeandGlory

What a perfect response, Hope and Glory!


37 posted on 08/30/2005 12:10:29 PM PDT by La Enchiladita (Remembering Our Heroes, Today and Everyday ... "Operation Gratitude")
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 31 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather; HopeandGlory; laurenmarlowe; WayzataJOHNN

This is one of my favorite poems and fits today's theme:

THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE
By William Butler Yeats

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear the water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

1892


38 posted on 08/30/2005 12:21:15 PM PDT by La Enchiladita (Remembering Our Heroes, Today and Everyday ... "Operation Gratitude")
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 35 | View Replies]

To: La Enchiladita
Hello!

Excellent choice today. This poem is a favorite of mine also.

Thank you.

39 posted on 08/30/2005 2:49:56 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 38 | View Replies]

To: All
America

The silence is deafening the world around
once again the United States alone
Our Gulf States, torn and broken down
levees broken, water over taking.

We hear not a word from the world
we serve, no aide forth coming, no,
not a word.

A tsunami, of silence gathers round
the purse of the nations slam closed
to our needs, News Orleans floating,
no water to drink, no homes for it's people
no food to eat.

And we hear silence from the world around
not a word do we hear..hold on America
we are here, we are coming to help
your soaking states dry out, here's some
food for your souls, here have some dry clothes.

We'll help you in your time of need, no sir
there is no such a word...
America we stand alone.


bentfeather


40 posted on 08/30/2005 4:06:57 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 39 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

Oops, I missed this post at first 'cuz I went straight for your hurricane poem, which is right on.

I've done a bit of reading on Yeats and have a well worn collection of his poems. His unrequited love for the beautiful Maud Gonne was legendary. I visited the (round) Yeats tower in the west of Ireland when I was there. Strange place to live, you have to love the damp...


41 posted on 08/30/2005 5:34:29 PM PDT by La Enchiladita (Remembering Our Heroes, Today and Everyday ... "Operation Gratitude")
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 39 | View Replies]

To: La Enchiladita

Not to worry, just a couple of comments regarding Yeats.


I could not stand the damp, my body is racked with arthritis as it is.


42 posted on 08/30/2005 5:41:36 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 41 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather

Same here! Give me sun, give me warmth, give me Summer!!


43 posted on 08/30/2005 5:52:10 PM PDT by La Enchiladita (Remembering Our Heroes, Today and Everyday ... "Operation Gratitude")
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 42 | View Replies]

To: La Enchiladita; HopeandGlory; Spotsy; Kathy in Alaska; MoJo2001
I wonder if Pancakes will be late
if Spotsy fixed lumpy batter
Oh well, it matters not to me
I love waffles on a bumpy platter.

With syrup thick and sugary,
butter by the pound, and bacon crsip
and crumbly, and sauage lean and old.

Soptsy, I am so thankful for your job
flipping pancakes for the troops and crew
not to mention all the laughs Hope and Glory gets from you.

44 posted on 08/30/2005 6:47:46 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 43 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather; Spotsy; All
It's Wednesday already!
sure comes around fast,
will our darlin' Spotsy
beat the deadline at last?

Last week she arrived
lickety split,
on time for a change
and not in a snit

She threw us a curve tho'
had waffles, not pancakes.
but, whatever she serves,
The Canteen greedily partakes of.

rim 8/30/05


LOL!!! . . .I see you've been laying in wait for Miss Spotsybelle . . . just like me. GMTA . . . ;-)


45 posted on 08/30/2005 7:01:31 PM PDT by HopeandGlory (Hey, Liberals . . . PC died on 9/11 . . . GET USED TO IT!!!)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 44 | View Replies]

To: HopeandGlory; Spotsy
Spotsy makes good Pancakes
and Waffles it's true
we have fun with Spotsy
yes, it is a rule.

A good humoured lass
not spilling the batter
her griddle is hot
her pancakes don't spatter.

She serves them up with a smile
and a grin... and hopes that the
poets won't make fun of them.


LOL


46 posted on 08/30/2005 7:08:43 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 45 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather; Spotsy
It's so much fun
to tease,our gracious
Spotsybelle,
she could've turned out,
to be the Hostess from Hell.

So, I'm thankful that she's
such a good sport,
not like someone else
we could mention,
who, ended up in jail . . . ;-)

rim 8/30/05


47 posted on 08/30/2005 7:32:01 PM PDT by HopeandGlory (Hey, Liberals . . . PC died on 9/11 . . . GET USED TO IT!!!)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 46 | View Replies]

To: HopeandGlory; Spotsy
A jail for pancake poets is there
oh no, now there goes my hair
standing on edge, while I'm
trembling in with fear
that the pancakes cops
will soon appear!

LOL

48 posted on 08/30/2005 7:35:39 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (Two Years of Poetry...)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 47 | View Replies]

To: bentfeather; Spotsy
Our Spotsy's an angel
with syrup she's dripping,
you won't catch her,
inside trader stripping.

So fear not, our Spotsy
will stay out of jail,
she's too valuable to us
ladleing syrup, out of her pail.

rim 8/30/05


49 posted on 08/30/2005 7:52:55 PM PDT by HopeandGlory (Hey, Liberals . . . PC died on 9/11 . . . GET USED TO IT!!!)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 48 | View Replies]

To: Spotsy

Oh Spotsy . . . .you'd better get here soon and defend yourself . . . LOL!!!


50 posted on 08/30/2005 7:53:53 PM PDT by HopeandGlory (Hey, Liberals . . . PC died on 9/11 . . . GET USED TO IT!!!)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 49 | View Replies]


Navigation: use the links below to view more comments.
first 1-5051-100101-150151-200 ... 1,001-1,029 next last

Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.

Free Republic
Browse · Search
General/Chat
Topics · Post Article

FreeRepublic, LLC, PO BOX 9771, FRESNO, CA 93794
FreeRepublic.com is powered by software copyright 2000-2008 John Robinson