Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
While new snappy language stilted
uses facts, logic wilted
no longer do they feel guilted
Delivery un-lilted:
in the youthful trend
of first initial burst
trailing off at end
speakers’ voice volume nursed
Guess for newfangled mangled effect
as what’s being said hard to detect?
Think we’re saddled
with Leaders
bumbling, addled
non-readers?
Although they’re not lost at all
merely might have appeared effete
As found abundant their gall
when eager to please The Elite
helping Wall Street get replete
by robbing Main Street deplete
Withdrawn, detached at life’s end
in most wondrous isolation
Sweet as blessing Heaven sent:
bestows in stillness elation
In Life is yearned
emotions clarified
Speech not just well-turned
but by thoughts edified
We may enjoy life well-disposed
when isolation self-imposed
There was this woman outright pernickety
while mired as well in habits persnickety
She’s excelled stirring up the dust
leaving us all feeling nonplussed
Stemming from our own low standards rickety?
How we all keep persevering
quite determined in careering
and while times keep changing
need not be deranging
something else shall be appearing!
Behold that fresh youthful look:
Youth’s upbeat breathless grin
crisp cover of unread book
sculptured, jutting out chin
Behold the wizened old look:
aging’s out-of-breath grin
thumbed cover of well read book
sagging skin, drooping chin
At which point cannot count on audacity
but hope for tenacity, veracity
Have we noticed less yelling
these days in tight traffic
less impudent labeling
fewer gestures graphic?
Do we drive more like adults
with manners to be commended
lessened the need to insult
and slower to get offended?
If so, it might be truth to say
for fear of being blown away?
At times has been avowed
my enthusiasm gallant
while sparingly endowed
with any useful talent
Hence I’ve barely begun
at age eighty-two
to get hoped-for things done
with some derring-do
But as by now glaringly way too late
I’ll keep playing to my ‘strength’, i.e. prate
Before sunrise he’d be found
like clockwork our rooster
on his fiefdom’s barnyard mound
as his own best booster
Perhaps wound tightly
but hens find him knightly
Comes across sprightly
takes a stance uprightly
Repeatedly he must crow
to hear his own voice inflection
In dedication aglow
offers, as it is, protection
Aren’t we all doing our utmost
while taking good care not to boast?
A limerick on a birthday of a neighbor who’s both an accomplished scientist & in his youth gymnast:
There was a youngish man called Igor
who treats all he meets with ardor
a man of great science
with strong self-reliance
Among Norse gods resembles most Thor!
*)
Why Thor? Because they both rather swing a thunderbolt hammer than just sit around and yammer