Tag Archives: fun
One fluid motion this lifeBlur
Fault me — I henceforth forego jitterbugging feet
Assert some bias in my blood which rejects dancehall beat
As time tiktoks, I cling instead to swaying with the strings
Tango, Pan-Hellenic sway, and all such passion brings
Step danced exclamations void of pop-cultural fray
Barefoot, solo, or with friends — come…blur night into day
brisé: A Haiku
Boy, THIS will be fun
Dig my inner bitch and witch
Boxing gloves, then broom
Heart Me: A Haiku
I promise myself
A rolled-out barrel of fun
And a rose garden
Naught
All I learned Today
Blood’s thicker than Truth
I unsettle You
If my thumb’s broken, it was not for Naught
Kids will find their Fun
Joy lives ‘longside Pain
Victims don’t live Here
Forever
Oh, there is the great likelihood fun would become us!
We’d get along famously and fall into friendship, the depths of which….
Do you fear we’d find fault, and in a flash, some short fuse blows?
I don’t….
I figure we’d flirt with life, day in, day out, as Fourth of July fireworks.
A Grand Finale ad infinitum….
The fact of us, fostering the good fortune of our hearts feeling again.
It’s been forever….
The Farm
I’ll settle it seems
For any reverberation
That I’d believe again
In my still hoping hand
Knowing the years must grant
The gentle kindness and fun
I’d once claimed as my faith
Even At Lunch
Is there any way
You would read to me
Every day
Sit me down any where
Speaking with passion understood
Every where
Your words pausing any place
Literary style demands
Every time
You may choose any book
My ears adore
Every genre
Beneath The Pale
I play games with eyes
I can’t apologize or say why
In Peek-A-Boo, I play into
Your green or blue or grey eyes
I challenge you to I Spy
Defiant, Captain, May I?
On cue, out come your Hi games
Your Sideways Hello-Bye games
The send-the-soul-mile-high games
The make them laugh, then cry games
I play, no matter -You’re a star
I’m a lover of all you are
And all these games aren’t really games
They’re ways to keep the time
‘Til you and I look eye to eye
Beneath the pale
And from on high
Promise hello
True Story
I woke up on my pen and Rock and this is what I’d dreamed:
“Book and Rock and Rock and Book, you walk hand in hand.”
LisaRosier.com 