A Peeping Poet

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It’s a crisp fall morning
As she carefully dips her toes
There’s a hidden alcove there
Where nobody goes

The water is calm
So very peaceful and serene
And she washes discreetly
Mindful she isn’t seen

A sudden splash and ripple
Quickly catch her attention
And she shields her breasts
In modest apprehension

But it’s only just a loon
Seeking out its prey
And her fear subsides
As the majestic creature flies away

Back to her bathing
She becomes lost in introspection
So she bends down slowly
To look at her reflection

She sees a stubby little nose
With wide blue eyes
And there’s a small pointy chin
Which she’d like to disguise

Her blurred image
Stares back for quite awhile
And something about it
Suddenly makes her smile

She lets out an embarrassed giggle
After realizing she’s been seen
She happens to notice a poet
Has come upon the scene

I’m so sorry I reply
To disturb you in the nude
I wanted to capture the moment
Even though I see it was rather rude

Please go on with your bathing
And I’ll return from where I came
And next time I see you
I’ll try my best to refrain

© 2018 Michelle Cook


The Painting is, September Morn.  By Paul Émile Chabas

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Eager Advancements

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She’s the kind that seeks attention
From men of all sorts
Just watch her for a few minutes
And see the way she cavorts

It’s really quite revolting
The way she digs her claws in
And all those poor unsuspecting men
Nobody knows what’s happened to them

It’s funny because I notice her
Day after day after day…
She seems annoying as hell
And just won’t go away

She’s the kind of woman
Who only speaks with the guys
I shiver at the thought
Of what’s underneath her disguise

Maybe she’s actually quite decent
I could have it all completely wrong
Maybe she’s a real sweet lady
And I’ve been oblivious all along

I suppose I’ve come to the conclusion
That I’ll never really know anything for certain
But I do know one thing
She’s obnoxious when she’s flirtin

And last but not least
Her eager advancements leave me quite ill
Too bad I’m not a guy
I might actually enjoy the thrill

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here;  Eager advancements

The cobweb cloaked coven

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Pearl was a pistol
Janezza was a jerk
Glenda was a grumpy ol’ git
Who drove everyone berserk

Nilda was the nice one
But Irma drove her insane
And because of Henrietta’s hexes
Neither one now has a brain

Daniella was a devil
And yet she was always liked the best
But mostly only by male devils
Who liked staring at her chest

Wanda was the youngest witch
She’d bring warlocks home each day
But because of her venereal diseases
She could never get any of them to stay

Tilly was the tallest
Until Shirley shot right past
Now they’re both so old they’re shrinking
And wondering how life went by so fast

Lastly there was Lily
The prettiest witch of all
Until one day her wand exploded
Causing bits of her to be strewn across the wall

The cobweb cloaked coven has since retired
Put up their brooms and stored away their wands
And if you ever want to find them
You’ll have to go looking beyond the beyond

But be careful if you go there
For those old biddies they aren’t so sweet
And if you visit them for Halloween
You may just get a trick instead of a treat

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here; The cobweb cloaked coven

Poor Peter

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He came to her
With eyes sparkling bright
It was half past two
In the middle of the night

He was grinning wide
From ear to ear
And had a message for her
That was crystal clear

She winked at him
Then went back to sleep
He was left dazed and confused
Yet made not a peep

His mischievous smile faded
As he gave up the go
Accepting the sad truth
That there would be no show

© 2018 Michelle Cook


This is Peter’s side of the story, you can find Petunia’s here.

The pen ached for his loving touch

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Several long months had passed
Since she’d been held
By her faithful master

She greatly missed
The way his warm hand curved
Around her well-worn body

Sections of her once shiny exterior
Had long ago lost their luster
And now began to flake and peel

His familiar rugged fingerprints
Still appeared in the places
Where she’d been gripped the tightest

Each spot a permanent reminder
Of the intensity in which he wrote
And the passion which he radiated

She continued to ache
For his ever loving touch
And dreamt of his timely return

But she soon came to realize
She was no match for her masters new blond #2
That fair young lady had the bite marks to prove it

© 2018 Michelle Cook

Popsicle periscopes and other strange things…

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Popsicle periscopes
And other strange things
All seem to spurt out
Whenever she sings

So run for your lives
As the next thing could be
A rhinoceros tumbling
Right onto your knee

Or perhaps she’ll sneeze
That’s sometimes even worse
Oh the things that come out
You might just curse

She seems to be okay
Whenever she stays quiet
But when she coughs
She often starts a riot

Her shouts can get nasty
Things often burst out
Right from her insides
Which make people shout

The worst thing I’ve seen
Is an elephant with a tuba
She just spewed it right out
As she sang a song about Cuba

So don’t get too close
If she begins to make a sound
You’ll likely be squashed
By whatever hits the ground

 

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Popsicle periscopes

 

Testimony of a peeping alien named Tom

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It appeared to be liquid love
Consisting of a mercurial matter
Which then showered across her chest
This curious essence completely splattered

She was then drenched in translucent passion
From his apparent spasmodic contraction
And this all seemed to be the consequence
Of some unknown gravitational reaction

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Liquid love

The Crazies

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The Crazies as it’s defined
Is a neighborhood of all kinds
Here is some of what you’ll find…

A pastor
Who is always scheming
A polygamist
Who is usually beaming
A newlywed couple
Who are active and fit
A snobby white guy
Who acts like a twit
A homeschooling mother
Who hides in her house
A serial killer
Who is quiet as a mouse
A traveling duo
Who live the good life
An old geezer
Who has no wife
A preppy family
With a dog named bogey
An obsessive control freak
Who is always smoking a stogie
A hoity-toity couple
Who spoil their dog
An ordinary girl
Who likes to write stories and blog
And last but not least
Let’s not forget the seniors
Or the girls that lay in the grass
We call them dreamers
All of these people
Can be found on our street
So come visit sometime
I’ll save you a seat!

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Originally written, 2015

Creaky and Cranky

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Inundated with
Creaky hinges
Afflicted by
Annoying twinges

Growing older
Infested with gray
Almost too tired
To kiss or play

Slowly becoming
Crippled and cranky
Undesirable
No longer swanky

Hard lines
Worn creases
Coming apart
In shreds and pieces

Losing thoughts
Oh what to do
Finding it difficult
To even chew

Getting older
Is so unrightful
Never do it
It is frightful!

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Creaky Cranks