The Dragonflies Lair~Thread XXIX

The Muse and Poets of the Lair | July 12, 2006 | bentfeather

[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©
2002

[Soaring Feather]

A peacock may be a chicken,
but a proud one is he
his lady is on the dull side
I like the color of his feathers
that's way I chose him
his attitude matches mine
as his strutting round is refined.

And when he shrieks out loud
his piercing, shrill voice
can be heard for miles and miles around.

[Lady Jag]

Two police officers saw this old woman staggering down the street, stopping
her they can tell she has had far too much to drink and instead of taking
her to jail they decide to just drive her home. They loaded her into the
police cruiser one of the officers gets in the back with the drunk woman.

As they drove through the streets they kept asking the woman where she
lived, all she would say as she stroked the officers arm is "You're Passionate."

They drove awhile longer and asked again, again the same response as she
stroked his arm "You're Passionate".

The officers were getting a little upset so they stopped the car and said
to the woman, Look we have driven around this City for two hours and you
still haven't told us where you live.

She replied, "I keep trying to tell you, 'You're Passin It!'"

[Soaring Feather]

LOL! Love it!

[Lady Jag]

Here, put this on, step outside and shriek.

Or are you a chicken?

[Soaring Feather]

Oh lovely!

A chicken would be proud to wear it ....in a larger girth.

[Lady Jag]

I bet we'd be surprised who wears bras.

[Soaring Feather]

Yupper for sure.


Well, we know Castro ain't wearing one today.

[stephenjohnbanker]

Well, it is innate for you. I am no good at it : )

[stephenjohnbanker]

ROTFL!

[Soaring Feather]

And I am no good with math. ;)

[Lady Jag]

I wonder if Castro's wearing a colostomy today.

[Soaring Feather]

We will never know the truth.

[Lady Jag]

The truth is out there.

[HopeandGlory]

dusky moonflowers
glowing in the evening light
nightimes floral stars

rim

Good evening Miss Feather as per usual, I'm way behind on the thread . . . ;-)

[Soaring Feather]

Woo Hoo, nice to see you.

Lovely haiku and graphic. How does your garden grow?? Do your vines have tender grapes??

[Soaring Feather]

Good night everyone.

[Soaring Feather]

Tell me a story please
of moonlight on the fen
twinkling stars in velvet skies
and banshees on the wind.


Tell me how the stars look
on the Emerald Isle
of warm ales in pubs at night
and glittering moonlight on the trails.


Tell me of the soda breads, teas brewed strong and long
lovely redheaded Irish gals, standing by the ruins
and those funny Leprechauns singing happy tunes.


Tell me a story Johnn, poet of the Lair
that will make my hair stand on end
and wish that I was there.


bf

[WayzataJOHNN]

Post Rinse Cycle (after the rain)

Taste the night air,
sweet with the kiss of the rain,
cooling down the heat of day,
and lifting a tired spirit.

I love the sounds,
the whisper of tires through puddles,
the soft rustle of clean leaves,
the night birds beginning to sing.

So perfect and so fair,
nothing now to shun or distain,
and we rise up from where we lay,
marveling how everything seems to fit.

Even the neighborhood tom begins his rounds,
as our thoughts clear, to un-muddle,
as we watch water drip from the eves,
our repressed selves begin to take wing.

[Soaring Feather]

Tasting night air after a rain
cool on the tongue
drizzling down an over heated body
refreshing as a cold peach
while soaking my feet in a bucket of ice
licking the peach juice from my finger tips
sticky sweet succulent, with the aroma of an orchard
hiding on it's skin.


Sitting there in the alley watching
the bugs play under the street lamp
old tom yowelings echo thru the alley
while an irate old drunk throws an old shoe at him.

And the cool night air kisses my cheek
as the soft breeze blows
and catches the hem of my skirt
and I wonder about him
while the smell of fresh rain and peach juice mingle
and the moon peeks out from under the clouds.


bentfeather

[WayzataJOHNN]

You have a way about you, you really do! ;^)