pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Rhyme

Aesop’s Barbershop

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

We know much of a fairytale
Of Tortoise and the Hare,
But I can tell you details that
Got lost somewhere out there.

See, Aesop had a barbershop
Where he would share folklore
While snippets of each patron’s hair
Would float from head to floor.

While gleaning nest material
From under Aesop’s chair,
A little bird learned more about
the Tortoise and the Hare.

Not only did Hare take a nap
While racing such a slowpoke,
He also caught a matinee,
And shot the breeze with townsfolk.

He stopped in to the barbershop
To get the latest chinwag.
He wrote it all into his pad,
And stuck it in his bookbag.

That steadfast Tortoise won the race,
Which Hare did not foresee.
How do I know these new-found facts?
A little bird told me.  

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

I’LL GET IT!

This used to be yelled
in a sing-song way
in every household
every day
when we would all clamor
to answer the call
of the one lone phone
that hung on the wall.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 10 – Writer’s Digest  (Day 10: Write a  Get Blank poem)

WITH HIGH LEVEL OF ACCURACY, I PREDICT:

Photo by Alex Andrews on Pexels.com

WITH HIGH LEVEL OF ACCURACY, I PREDICT:


As soon as hands are wash-me wet,
my phone will start to ring.

When I am snoozing, you can bet
my phone will start to ring.

The moment we sit down to eat,
my phone will start to ring.

Before my urgent task’s complete,
my phone will start to ring.

The final seconds of the game,
my phone will start to ring.

Car warranty’s good, but all the same,
my phone will start to ring.

About to step in to the bath,
my phone will start to ring.

When I have moved from rile to wrath,
my phone will start to ring.

When I’m with someone, it is known
my phone will start to ring.

The second I put down my phone?
My phone will start to ring.

While pulling up my drive at home,
my phone will start to ring.

When nearly finished with my poem,
my … Sorry.  I need to get this …

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 2: Write a What does the future hold poem).

UPS AND DOWNS

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I put my feet up
and sip down hot tea,
then fall fast asleep.
(That doggone T.V!)

I climb up the stairs
and head down the hall,
then into my bed
I sluggishly crawl.

Too soon I wake up,
‘cause I have to pee.
*sigh* Back down the hall …
(That doggone hot tea!)

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

Schmoozy Sue, the Santa Shrew

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

Few know of Sue, the Santa Shrew,
and that’s a curious thing in view
of all the schmoozing she would do
once scooting down each chimney flue.

She’d shoot the breeze with skillful ease
in English, Welsh, or Taiwanese,
while feasting on her hostess’ cheese.
Then right back up the flue she’d squeeze.

‘Round every tree, she’d socialize –
she’d dramatize and improvise,
and aggrandize, and summarize.
Shrew ebullience, epitomized.

As starlit skies turned pinks and golds,
Sue’d slip ‘tween Santa’s soft cloak folds
and there, she’d dream of each household
and all her stories, still untold.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020


THANKSGIVING, 2020

Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels.com

I should first explain that I went 30-plus years with a severe reaction to butter and chocolate.  ONLY butter and chocolate.  I know, I know … it makes no sense.  For 30-plus years, I have had to be ridiculously careful, because even minute amounts wreaked havoc.  When my thyroid was fixed, this went away.

THANKSGIVING, 2020

Buttered potatoes,
and stuffing with butter.
Slather that nut bread
(my heart is aflutter!).

No need to ask
“is there butter in this?”
Now I can happily
fill up my dish.

But now that selecting
what goes on my plate
no longer concerns me,
we can’t congregate.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

THE BLOB

The Blob was unearthed
in the year of my birth.
It debuted the iconic McQueen.

Still, I’ve not seen a scene
on the cinema’s screen.
(I’ve an awkwardly fragile fright gene.)

But the theme song is neat –
it is hip and upbeat.
For a ‘horror’ble soundtrack, a feat!

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

In case you are interested, here is a link to the theme song. And yes, I feel old! 😀

https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=theme+song+from+the+blob&docid=608056112507847468&mid=E4288864AB1DBA1089BBE4288864AB1DBA1089BB&view=detail&FORM=VIRE

VP DEBATE, 2020

Photo by Skyler Ewing on Pexels.com

This debate was more civil than first.
But responses seemed vague and rehearsed.
Though some orderliness was restored,
Many questions were simply ignored.

Undecideds, I’d just like to ask:
Did you learn who is up to the task?
Or perhaps you just think it’s a crime
that the fly did not get equal time. 😉

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

(COUGH, COUGH)

Photo by Kam Pratt on Pexels.com

My first job, at The Niles Bank,
I worked between two men who smoked.
The office held a haze that stank.
I wanted to speak up, but choked.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

As Awkward as Two on an Elevator

He says hi there;
she says hello.
“Which floor?” he asks.
She doesn’t know.
His finger waits,
then starts to tap.
Her face turns red.
She thinks, “Oh crap.
Why can’t I think?
Just pick a floor!”
Her brain congeals.
He taps some more.
“Just. Pick. A. Floor.”
That thought now slips
from clotted brain
through tense, pursed lips.
With sideways glance
and impish smirk,
he presses 12.
(Joker?  Or Jerk?)
Long, silent ride
can’t end too soon.
It seems to take
all afternoon.
She ruminates
entire ride,
should parting words
be kind?  Or snide?
She isn’t sure
how this should end –

Just like my awkward
poem, my friend.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020