sonnet #1,631

I'm so in love with you, that's so to speak,
My hand can't hold yours, it might sweat and shake,
The talk might trail off, while my heart might break,
Of own accord, say we two club unique.
A lick of lips, a wry pout sure can wreak,
You've got that quaint inflected voice quake,
And touching fingers, friendliest feint uptake-
I shouldn't look so close, that too goes chic.
No, it's much worthier that I look elsewhere
And try and see us as others see us,
A foolish fellow making furtive fuss
About a beautiful girl, here nor there.
If you can't love me, I'll die, I'll respawn,
Then I'll evade, avail my sad heart torn.

(Chorus)

o respawn
o regenerate
o revive

sonnet #1,630

Though we're so different, as cheese and chalk,
Excepting code, I'd pine, hang close and stalk,
She ranks the dearest damsel comely clean,
I'll then admire above, at loopholes lean.
She's clever, funny, kind, with gestured grace,
It wholly causes my youthful heart to race;
Inspired at supper, her veil then a shawl,
She coolly breathes air out in her arched hall.
Her steed trots upper bailey smooth flagstones,
And sideways saddled she will toot mot tones;
I waged to wait on her on this stairwell,
But it's in her moat deep eyes that I dwell.
In Lady Gambol's gaze I rest in peace,
There knightly troubles trivialise, then cease.

(Chorus)

o peace
o accord
o serenity

sonnet #1,629

You slur, yet slander seems outside your style,
Indeed, you've actioned questionable deeds;
Your feral parrot lives and dies and feeds
A prompted opportunist, off one mile.
Yes, there's a thing or two you titter vile,
It draws my darker sentimental needs,
To psychosomatic expression leads,
Benign as mere cysts, phew, removed short while.
Your twenties were a raucous whirlwind ride,
The fall out torts of precious metal muck,
Of fool's gold bars and crumbling gold beside,
Your lessons learned, you leveraged your luck.
Once more I force through benefit of doubt
The wisest warning, ease off, else you're out.

(Chorus)

o doubt
o incertitude
o muddle

sonnet #1,628

I should've spent attentively the time
Alone with you, entirely me at fault;
The cool estrangement and morbid mime
Kill minutes mused, by increment, by jolt.
Your absence cost of working clime to clime,
I wonder now if you'll perk up and bolt,
Our future pointed forth, as it's your prime
We're silently assessing, move or halt.
It's dirty work, girl, which I love to do-
No other dirty work works just for me,
Commuter's travails tick an apogee,
And on each weekend break, I'm back to you.
Somebody's been the dutiful young wife,
To fault eked out a beautiful old life.

(Chorus)

o wife
o mate
o spouse

sonnet #1,627

(The characters in the following sonnet are
fictional and any resemblance to Adam and
Eve would be purely coincidental.)

Time has inlaid my love's kind face all lines,
And wrinkles, has dried out random jots,
Her eyes once so enlarging, look small knots,
Her lips once turgid, seem deep crimps by tines.
I glance at gilded hairs, my heart so pines
For shorn abundance, gland delivered shots
Of golden, lost in clippings, tinfoil clots,
Think what a waste a raw wig over mines.
My tidy twenties had me still growing bones,
My failing forties tweaked me teenage hair,
So wild and crazy, growing with zest out zones
Of back and brows and nose and either ear.
Immortalise a muse, the chances slight?
A score of years on, my bones fresh, I might.

(Chorus)

o slight
o precious
o rare

sonnet #1,626

They tell that you're immature, act on whim,
They tell that you're spontaneous, you disarm,
But you enchant me through selective charm,
Ambiguously, ambivalently prim.
You're by turn both luminous and dim,
You're humorous upholding, hurting balm,
You're timorous intruding, feuding calm,
With tears of joy, of balefulness, you brim.
A fingernail black bruise, which lasts so long,
By clipping calendar grows, ends in edge,
The carbuncle on cuticle, plain wrong,
Disgresses from engagement ring big hedge.
As you've been clumsy cute, and aired a cuss,
It's something you can trip past, toxic fuss.

(Chorus)

o cuss
o oathe
o swear

sonnet #1,625

I'm touched if you're so troubled, jealous just
Of him, my kissing cousin; what a thrill
As you stormed from the room to fume and chill-
Shows there's more depth to you than driven lust.
Though I can't say as much yet, I've now sussed
Your heart, keep smiles at bay; abetted still,
My heart beats faster, fathoms plumb your will,
And what you'd give, and if you'd bluff to bust.
No, I won't tell you terms of our small chat,
Your welling tears are wasted, weakly plead
That I avoid him first, then fault him flat,
But faults as found are finely grained indeed.
I most regret the quickest kiss on lips,
Off him for you, the ginger handshake grips.

(Chorus)

o lips
o brims
o margins

sonnet #1,624

They sniff at our being young, say, you're unfit
For true love, when that's truly otherwise;
They didn't stop to spot us portrait size,
It lashed us mores we'd usually admit.
A globe has gone and we're left grime and grit,
Old nuclear family-power fob-off lies;
We neither pity them this nor despise
As high divorce rates count ourselves a hit.
Our love will last at least one century,
In health, in sickness, by swaddled stem cell,
Through peaks of plenty, troughs of penury,
In megalopolis we'll love, we'll dwell.
Eternally, though, we'll try right their wrong,
Their ignorance well meant, we'll string along.

(Chorus)

o wrong
o falsehood
o sin

sonnet #1,623

Contrarian, as I've got her, bag in box,
She'll take a tangent line and twist a trait,
Her arguments plumb then ameliorate
Our moods conversed - if moved by me, she mocks.
I loved her style, her knee high stocking socks,
The backless blouses beads and eyes hold straight,
The retro chic of french berets not late,
Yet when I praised, she said, rough as rocks.
And if I say how sad she looks, she'll smile,
And say, no, so far off the simple truth,
And then dispatch to me her giggling guile,
Or punch my shoulder softly, cloying, uncouth.
She warms too close or far off, winks a blink,
I'll puzzle her out presently, I'd think.

(Chorus)

o blink
o flutter
o tremor

sonnet #1,622

Though I've emerged the man I aimed to be,
Past setbacks, stumbling blocks, and settled dues,
The past and present caught up disagree,
They set off nightly murky, mindset hues.
When I pushed you off, dear, I forced you free,
Could not see me as the one you'd choose,
Nor as the one who stirred your girlish glee,
Though you'd pierced my piqued, invalid views.
I struck the standard hurdles, took the butt
Of bad luck others do, the fatal fault
Looks slowness, such a speed you'd tried to halt,
With taps and rubs and arms around my nut.
I need you back, your warming, soothing words,
And wait on dawn, its calming call of birds.

(Chorus)

o words
o phrases
o syllables

sonnet #1,621

Wound arm in arm, so amorous, I'll kiss
On kiss him, smack my lips on smoochiest lips,
Add cheeks, ears, nose, append on earlobes nips,
Make fleeting flicks by tongue of teeth his bliss.
I'll hug and huddle him, first that way this,
I'll whisper him sweet nothings, pearls and pips,
I'll tickle shirt seams twixt sheer ribs and hips,
And tease intense his twitches, nought amiss.
We slinked the gangplank down to daddy's launch,
Waved the private party pier gazebo,
Stirred, I pashed him, my plaything placebo,
Aggressive-passive, and suave and staunch.
I told him then I loved him itty bits,
He shrugged my baby talkie walkie skits.

(Chorus)

o bits
o fragments
o scraps

sonnet #1,620

I'm living proof of how things wrongly read
Can turn out fine; at first you may well fall
In love with wrong impressions, little said,
Quick prejudice, quite hard to overhaul.
At social do's and don't's, to which I'm lead
I'll take her coat or cap or gloves or shawl
She's glamour girl next door, else drop dead-
I don't know which, admired by wags and all.
She'll slink first into empty, eerie rooms,
She'll burst first into such a busy crowd,
To undermine old me, yet I'm quite proud
Of her, my safety valve, whose love presumes.
I'll flop drunk on our wobbling water-bed,
Curl with this girl who's got a swollen head.

(Chorus)

o bed
o couch
o divan

sonnet #1,619

I want to savour - just where did you sneak?
My lookout parried well, you weren't her place,
My baby brother worked up a civil case,
And nailed you slumming it, through passing peek.
You dressed in dowdy clothes reclaimed unique,
My thorny themes you nodded, much embrace-
To get away from me with greasy grace,
You shouted shots of gin to quiet your clique.
Well, how's your skittish sweetheart socialite?
And did she ever dredge your dressing down?
And was her mufti last year's must-have gown?
Were candlesticks and dimmer switch too, too bright?
Next, you'll both toast me, tipple coke and rum,
So juggle me, adjourned hour, as lonesome.

(Chorus)

o rum
o vodka
o whiskey

sonnet #1,618

Hail, Cupid, I've got a secret crazy crush,
Since when I practised kissing handsome bloke,
He lingered long on lips, these here, no joke,
I liked it lots, though, and keep that hush.
I stepped back so cooled off that sizzling rush-
His ways and postures worked me, I awoke-
All fueled a fever, nothing wrong, a stroke,
My kneecaps trembled, ear lobes tingled blush.
I toast you, since you've taken chancy stance
In getting me off guessing all or none,
Out from beneath eye candy, all seen fun,
This bloke's conceit is merry old romance.
Well, Cupid, my lips pouted, my eyes closed,
I fell in love when his warm nostrils nosed.

(Chorus)

o closed
o barred
o shut

sonnet #1,617

I want you back, just briefest questions asked
About your state of health, and your well being,
No probe for proof, no prod for suitors whom you're seeing,
As overruling love above clouds has been tasked.
As beauty's halo warms at whom it's basked,
My sequent sobs and tummy turns agreeing;
I'm paralysed in gerunds, fighting fleeing,
Between a smirk and smile enthralled, unmasked.
So, after things cool off, off colour change,
Does banter blunt, worse still, go tiresome bust?
How sweetly cheap and true was life based on trust,
How sleepless fidgetting these nights, and strange.
My rotten broken friendships list is long,
Please chitchat rain or sun, no right or wrong.

(Chorus)

o long
o deep
o wide

sonnet #1,616

He doesn't know you, dear, I dreaming do-
I know my heart, it burgeons a well being
From head to feet, from hand to hand flowing through
My organs out my eyes, your gaze agreeing.
He's silver tongued, and sweet in talk, you his skew,
No fault the last, I love you blinkered seeing-
At least I'm focused, simply stated true,
I'm giving ground, unflinching, never fleeing.
He's locked away on some unknown timeline,
He's well on way to first hand felt heartbreak
Else flees some olden one, for what knows sake,
His niceties familiar with you, match for mine.
I dread he loves you that much, doing his drill,
His looks and clever mind accord free will.

(Chorus)

o drill
o method
o routine

sonnet #1,615

I reacted as though nothing harmed could hurt
And my deeds were contextual, time the lag,
Dark hours, days into months could whizz or flag,
My listless life was stuck on red alert.
You were a comrade, mate, or more than skirt,
A bubbly babe, maybe faghag, no nag,
A gentle touch whatever gender bag,
Small talk, a tap that rouses from inert.
It's wondrous brilliant when I feel this fine,
You showed me love in spectrums row by row
In colours caring christian, veiled agape divine,
Romantic, graceful grateful, twinned rainbow.
You, you alone who showed me my quiet doubt
A rainbow feint beyond bond, exact same route.

(Chorus)

o doubt
o scepticism
o quandary

sonnet #1,614

(Restricted to eighteen years and over.)

My blinking name is blimmin' Cheeky Chick,
I'm your sex robot - fancy four pigtails?
My hands my snigger stifle, mouthy veils,
I snort, you loser, did you call in sick?
My quick ribtickling teases turn the trick-
He'll slip out winded, chuffed, yet chug off rails,
I'll roughly reinsert him, sniff, loser bails,
On poor sad you and you alone they pick.
Are you in yet? Dig that drawstring doll kind?
There's more to me than spring-out-tongue, or snook-
I'll fart as you pump sweet pussy from behind,
I'll blow some bubblegum or browse a book.
Just as you've pinned me with grunts, I'll giggle,
Making you whip out on mounting wriggle.

(Chorus)

o giggle
o chortle
o titter

(Editor's note - would've thought Dastardly Bastard
and Bitch, Chirpy Chap and Cheeky Chick, got along
better.)

sonnet #1,613

(Restricted to eighteen years and over.)

Not all that mean nor sour when you know me,
Mood swings do channel often some higher cause,
I'm Bitch, sex robot, claim a ponce's pause,
My service stringent, straight up, sugar free.
Whilst sitting nudging nice atop his knee
I'll sneer generic notes off files of flaws-
Say, you're not much in macho, else which thaws
And stiffens, flourish schadenfreude teehee.
Your angling, undersexed piece of arse
Loves my large swell of bust and strappy slot,
Squirms medicating me cool, just the shot,
As closet bachelors are beyond a farce.
He'll wear me, rubberised a double bind,
My loins'll dispense an ointment while I grind.

(Chorus)

o bind
o trim
o wrap

sonnet #1,612

They'd swear me underachiever and cheapskate
Buying hookers cups of coffee, four or five
Or sunrise, there where blowjob busied thrive,
My pay off kisses, licks of balding pate.
I met Bitch while I was in slacker state,
Her pick up line just one word laughed to drive
Me crazy, homo, but I lurched alive-
I had to stick it right to her, negate.
When I met Cheeky Chick's eyerolls she stuck
Her tongue right out at me, averse-provoked,
And, loser, sighed, by frisson I was stoked,
She only let me do her dogged luck.
Now sex robots, unlike girls, field their faults,
I like their putdown pick up lines, no schmaltz.

(Chorus)

o faults
o blemishes
o defects