If I dream of you
Will you dream of me?
Could we meet maybe
In each other’s dreams?
I’ll be so perfect
Met in a dream
And you, as always,
Will be perfect to me.
Could we meet perhaps
In each other’s dreams?
I’ll meet you there
If you’ll meet me.
You’ll find that I’m perfect
While you’re asleep.
It’s the one place I’m always
The man of your dreams.
What’s wrong with you.
Frigid perchance?
How otherwise
Could you resist my advance!
How could you possibly
Resist all my charms?
Most women swoon
And fall into my arms.
You freeze when I touch you
Go rigid, turn cold.
I find it upsetting
Truth to be told.
I can’t be the problem
How could it be me?
Why do you flinch
When I just touch your knee?
Frigid https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/frigid/ via @postaday
Give three cheers for doggerel
The lowest form of verse.
At least it keeps us off the streets.
We could be doing worse.
There is no rhyme or reason
For writing stuff like this.
If you want proper poetry
Best give this a miss.
I’d love to be a poet
But doggrel’s kind of good
You simply write the way you want
And not the way you should.
You just keep writing nonsense
Whatever may present
It doesn’t have to mean that much
Just kind of make some sense.
They say that poetry changes things
That words can make a difference
But people seem to like this stuff
Is that a fair defence?
Nothing ever changes much
What ever we may do
So just churn out the rubbish stuff
Whatever pleases you.
There’ll be no revolution
And revolutions hurt
So just pretend; do make belief
And maybe get the shirt.
There is no point to any of this
It just goes on and on
Poetry comes of passion
But doggrel don’t need none.
Give three cheers for doggerel
The lowest form of verse
There’s not much point in any of this
But we could be doing worse.
You lost your job
We call it churn
The market fell
It took a turn.
You did your bit
We know it’s sad
But cheaper labour
To be had.
You took your turn
You did your bit
Too bad the little man
Gets hit.
Your time is up
So that’s your lot
You’re out of here
Soon be forgot.
via Churn
The Daily Prompt
This is for you who feel unloved
Love’s not for you, it’s passed you by.
It flickered once perhaps to die.
And now you feel it’s not for you.
Who will come let down your hair
Remove your glasses, hold you tight.
Give precious hugs, a kiss good night?
Who’ll be special just for you?
Perhaps another much like you
That feels unloved just like you do?
One with a kiss you could transform
Perhaps kindle love that died still born?
They may not sweep you off your feet
But look for their face in friends you greet
In one perhaps that loved you once
But lacked some vital confidence.
This is to say that you are loved
Perhaps in unrequited sense
Another’s lonely, needs your love
Some lovers need a gentle shove.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/explore/
Come in put your feet up
Must you really explore?
You know how much I-adore yer
Come in just shut the damn door.
It’s hard to love an explorer
However much you adore her
For adventure she’ll always clamour.
Why can’t you bloody sit still?
Why can’t the girl just settle?
Constantly travelling still.
She’s always wants to be elsewhere
I’m afraid she always will.
They call it infatuation
It feels like you’ve fallen in love
You believe that one special person
Has fallen from heaven above.
The truth is you don’t really know them
However absorbing your crush.
You’ve pinned all those feelings on them
But it’s nothing to do with them much.
There’s hormones raging inside you
A love you just have to get out.
So this was who you latched on to
And now you’re in love, you’ve no doubt.
You think that if they ignore you
It’ll be the end of the world.
Seems nothing will shake your viewpoint
That beside them you want to be curled.
True love’s when you get to know them
And learn they have faults as they will
True love’s when you know they’re imperfect
But find that you love them still.
Such radiance;
Your beaming smile
It surely can’t be
Meant for me?
Can this be love
The radiant smile
That stretched across your face
I see?
Your smile
Has such effect on me
Your face so lit
Sheer poetry.
My response to the Daily Prompt via Radiant — The Daily Post
Sing a song of sneezing
The Queen has got a cold
Four and twenty tissues
For a royal cold!
Could be even worse news
Phillip has it too.
Two red royal noses
Whatever will we do?
Phillip’s in his counting house,
Counting out his money;
The queen is taking remedies;
Lemon hot with honey.
The maid is in the garden
Hanging out the clothes,
When down comes the Queen’s cold
And reddens up her nose.
They send for Phillip’s doctor,
To get them well again;
He treats them right royally
And sets them right again.
So all’s well in the country
There’s not much in the news
Just a sniffy royal nose
Bunged up in the mews.
There’s more to do when in Madrid
Than watch parades of men in hoods
Especially when the weather’s good
In spring.
It’s good to be outside and warm
To bask in welcome spring time heat
Find good things to drink or eat.
My thing.
Great wide open public spaces
Tall treed gardens, sun filled plazas
Snack in sun filled squares on tapas.
Fit in.
The city has so much to offer.
Places to go and things to do
Palace Real, Cathedral, Prado
Great thing.
Velazquez, Goya art to spare.
There’s Real Madrid, Athletico
The Santiago Bernabeu.
They sing.
But all good times must have an end
Our time is up we have to go
Goodbye to sights we got to know
Travelling.
Andrew Green's Poems 