This is my version
of an imaginary person.
I will call her Jinx.
The name stinks,
for it reeks of pranks -
the kind folks murmur "No thanks!"
to; folks on whom tricks,
like a ton of bricks,
Ones who missed out on the gene
for humour. Know what I mean?
Jinx, on the other hand,
how a quick quip
into a conversation
like a well placed decoration,
cause a smile or a giggle
without causing a wriggle
She likes to please,
make the world a better place
by bringing a smile to its face!
Fireblossom, at IGWRT asked for a newly written poem about someone who inspires us. Hehehe! So here you are... sort of...
If life were a film, our mistakes
could be out-takes. Bloopers? Cut!
What a mutt!
Did I fall into the trap
of meeting the wrong chap
in my teens,
saying goodby to dreams?
But times change.
expectations and realise,
to our surprise,
life lead to 'now'!
Beyond Mother Hen days, life starts again.
The feathered nest with no rest
transmutes to a time when 'us' and 'we'
shrinks to 'me', and I may at last fly...
In realms of myth and fantasy the Green Man has survived.
From far away as pagan times I think he's lived and thrived
within the minds of country folk, through good times, or through bad,
and this kind of longevity is anything but sad.
Fruitful gifts of mother earth have morphed into a man
in this, my painted image - ignore him if you can!
Thanks to Tess at Mag 120 and Klaus Enrique Gerdes, whose image below sparked all of the above!