Free Verse! (or as I like to call it, Prose with too many line breaks!)

I wonder sometimes.

Could one?

Could another?

Why or why not?

It isn't fair, you know.

It makes no sense to me.

Because

Because

Because....

Because why?

Forget it.

I'll just put the forks on the left.

Some blue people

"I crave and I crave,"

Said the tickled blue knave,

"Yet thirst, it wanes not

from the efforts I gave."

"'Tis true, 'tis true,"

Said the king, also blue,

"And you'll never be full

Whilst you wear the wrong shoe."

Crumbs

Sometimes I wonder...

Just how many crumbs

Get lost every day,

Flicked away by our thumbs.

If one were to gather

Them all in one place,

Could you climb up the pile

And touch outer space?

Oops

Marmalade soups.

I forgot to blog. Oops.

Pajama decked troops.

Taupe ice cream scoops?

Cooking Advice Haiku

A cookie. A sock.

Two very different items

That taste bad when mixed.

Gesundheit

Eegat

Lawoogus

--arciple too--

Spelunk

Thiodenum

--Wazat a choo--

Cookie

A lot, a little, too much and too few,

Some big, some small, some yellow, some blue.

With sprinkles and sugar and frosting aplenty,

Are the cookies at Christmas, and I could eat twenty.

A Contemplative Haiku

I can think, I think.

I'm pretty sure that I can.

Now what to think of...

Good Galen

The Groggle and Vimir did play a dark game

As they rompled and jumpered along the street main.

Swing round and swing to, went the cavered canoe,

'Fore it struck with a thwack upon good Galen's shoe.

"What for?" cried the Vimir. "What who and why how?"

But Galen spoke not as he furrowed his brow.

Then pittered and pattered small feet went away

At sound of the show down 'tween dark night and day.

Quite heavy and thick hung the scent of hard pine.

And a distant cricket cried beneath twisted twine.

A pebble, a murmur, a bubble, then none,

Where a silence now hung till the battle were done.

First Groggle did gimper and scurry and hide,

Whilst the Vimir grew twenty and thirty feet wide.

Black clouds and white tree trunks scarce shadowed the scene,

Then shrunk did good Galen to the size of a bean.

"Galumph," swalled the Vimir as he downed his mite foe.

Then echoes of teardrops fell round the deep snow.

The Groggle and Vimir traullumped and hallayed

Yet with crackle and sizzle they burst their charade.

A harrowing sound and a furrowing bang

Went voices immense in the song that they sang.

The Groggle and Vimir burst once and twice more.

And good Galen returned to the cobblestone floor.

A fissure of cloud did that morning then see

With dawn peeking down on Galen's victory.

Then song broke the way through the settling air

And ne'er were forgotten the happiness there.

When I awoke

I can't say all went well today,

But I guess things could be worse,

When I think of how things started

With that awful pinkish purse...

I woke to find it on my head,

That pink monstrosity.

Its feathery straps hung o're my eyes,

Which made it hard to see.

I pulled it off as I sat up

And stared at it, bemused.

But one quick glance around my room

Would leave me so much more confused.

A purse of pink upon my head,

was strange, no doubt, but still,

quite stranger yet was the kangaroo

perched on my windowsill...

To Be Continued...

Frogs

If I were an egg with a top hat and gloves,

a shovel and doughnuts and pencils and doves,

perhaps I would question the how's and the why's

of frogs and their dancing beneath butterflies.

A haiku to start:

Your bacon is up,

But your pancakes are not here.

Epic cake quest time!