Full-length Mirror
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I’m addicted to y’all.
I can’t resist casting an eye
at my reflection passing by.
I’m so enamored of my face,
I cannot keep up my pace.
I must stop so I can see
the spectacular whole of me!
For the dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt: Mirror
Vanity Mirror
Your grace leaves courters spellbound and at a slight impasse,
for they’d like to woo you, but they do not have the brass.
Ordinary fellows feel they’ve not the right
to ask you for a date in fear they may incite
a cacophony of laughter revealing your disdain
at their misguided efforts—that they would even deign
to think that they were worthy of such a one as you,
deserving of the honor to stoop and kiss your shoe.
Do you feel the portrait that I sketch deserving of your buzz?
Or do you get the message: pretty is as pretty does.
Prompt words today are grace, spellbound, cacophony, impasse, ordinary and sketch.
Walking Wounded
I have a giant blister growing on my foot,
and I’ve had a breakthrough about what’s at its root.
Its cause is not a secret, no mystery at all.
The truth is that I buy my shoes at least a size too small.
Blame it on my vanity that’s making me a gimp.
My need to wear a daintier size is why I have a limp.
Today’s prompt words are breakthrough, giant, blister, root.
Party Talk at Mar-a-Lago
It’s a nightmare of prattle disguised as discussion,
but if you ask me, it is merely percussion.
They are not ennobled by the words that they speak
about all the profits and glory they seek.
They can buy costly furnishings but not good taste
with these fortunes collected in greed and great haste.
See their vain postures as they sip and feed?
We can only hope fate makes them pay for their greed.
Prompts for the day are: nightmare, prattle, disguised, ennoble and taste.
gettyphoto
I would pay a pretty tuppence
to see his highness get his comeuppance.
His smug assurance, his galling preening.
He’s like a babe in need of weaning,
sucking at the teat of fame.
What other mortal needs his name
written on towers around the world?
He’s Ozymandius, stone lip curled
in cruel splendor, sure in his power
reasserted on every tower.
But remember, as he counts each coup,
how all the mighty have fallen, too.
False knights wear armor prone to tarnish.
His Midas touch will lose its varnish.
We’ll laud the day when he’ll be dumped—
That day when he’ll be over-trumped!
The prompt today was mighty.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 