Author Archives: Jezebel Myschka

Goodnight, Sweetheart

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I want to be frank and open,
with you, oh my television.

You can keep your position
there in my bedroom,
if you don’t ever try
to interfere with my
social life. But me,
I want to be free.

Faithful I will stay.
I won’t replace you anyway
with a younger model,
just because you’re old
or because you may
have seen a better day.

But I’ve better things to do
than spend my time with you.
I’ll not play fast and loose.
Who is it that I choose
to sleep with when I’m tired
after working hard?

Why you! It’s you
I always want to
curl up with, of course.
I listen to your voice
as you soothe away
the cares of the day.

But I just close my eyes
I’m sure that’s no surprise.
I’ve heard it all before,
I don’t listen anymore.
You’re really such a bore
I’m lulled to sleep, I’m sure.

Writersdigest.com Wednesday prompt 267 - Write a TV inspired poem

Painting

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I have a complaint.
I wish I could paint
but an artist I ain’t,
so I guess I’ll just write
to describe a sight
that possibly might
delight me,
excite me,
ignite me
or invite me
to express
my happiness,
or even to stress
my distress.

“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.” – Leonardo da Vinci

Autumn Leaf-fall

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Leaf-fall:
vibrant, vivid,
flaming, falling, rustling, dying,
multi-coloured woven carpet:
Autumn.

(Cinquain poem)
5 Lines – not rhyming
1st line – a noun, 2 syllables
2nd line – 2 adjectives descriing the noun, 2 syllables each
3rd line – 3 “……ing”words describing noun, 2 syllables each
4th line – a 4 word phrase about the noun, 2 syllables each
5th line – another word for the noun, 2 syllables

Daffodils

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Daffodils at Barnwell

I’ve just been walking in the hills
and there I found some daffodils
blooming below an old oak tree,
but not like those that you would see on window sills.

These were growing wispy and wild,
like I remember as a child.
Golden drifts blowing in the breeze,
nodding gently under the trees, where they were piled.

Mother Nature I have to thank
for the perfume that in I drank,
which fills me with such heartfelt cheer,
seeing it bloom year after year, that golden bank.

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A Florette Poem:- Rhyme scheme a,a,b,ba. Meter 8,8,8,12
Fouth line requirement of internal rhyme b on syllable 8, then rhyme a on syllable 12

 

Where are you, Jezzie?

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Myschka looking for JezWhere are you Jezzie? I’ve been looking for you all day.
It seems like such a long, long time since you went away.
I don’t know where you went ‘cos Mum took you in her car,
and she was gone for ages, so it must have been quite far.

I’ve been out walking with our Mum, following your scent,
but it is fading fast ‘cos it’s been raining where you went.
I know that I usually think you are a big pain in the bott,
but it’s very quiet here now and I miss you quite a lot.

Mum put me to bed last night and I was all alone.
That was the very first time that I have been on my own.
Your collar’s hanging on the hook, so I think you’re coming back.
I know it is YOUR collar – yours is red and mine is black.

Your basket looks so empty, but I didn’t lie in it
‘cos I thought you might be back here at any minute.
I’m sitting at the window, watching out for you,
but all that come are other dogs and next door’s cat comes too.

Please come home Jezzie, I miss you so very much.
I miss you bossing me when I go my Mum to touch.
I miss your constant barking when you yell and shout,
so Mum comes along and orders us to both go out.

I don’t like the way Mum keeps crying into her cup,
or how her teardrops drip into the washing up.
I don’t like it without my litter sister here to spar with
Come back, Jezzie, ‘cos I’ve loads more love to give.

Myschka following her sister's scent on her walk

Myschka at the window
Light a candle
Light a candle

Light a candle

To Jezzie

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25th January 2001 – 8th March 2013Jezebel relaxing at homeMy beautiful girl, you’ve gone to sleep today
and never more will we ever get to play.
For twelve years you have been my constant friend
and stayed by my side right to the very end.

You were a madam right from the start
but your winning ways just melted my heart.
You were always the belle of any doggie ball,
and you were big and brave with no fear at all.

The runt of the litter, you always knew how to survive
and bossed your litter sister all the time you were alive,
but we both miss you more than you will ever know
and are so sorry that you now have had to go.

So sleep well, my beautiful girl, your heart has been stilled,
but you’ve left a hole in my heart that will never be filled.
I will always think of you with a heart full of pride
and will dream of you still running by my side.

Jezebel & RichardJez back in the car after her autumn dog walk 2012Litchborough Gardens 260605 004Jez on her walk amongst the fallen leaves

Jezebel collage

Light a candle
Light a candle

Snow!

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Snow 2013-01-18This Friday we have had some snow,
it absolutely tipped it down,
it covered up the entire town
and there was nowhere we could go.

They had to bring out the snow plough
to clear the roads where it had blown,
it just kept driving up and down,
but still the roads were full of snow.

Snow 2013-01-18The kids all had a day off though.
At least my neighbours didn’t frown,
when hit by snowballs kids had thrown,
or slithered on the ice below
where they trampled their virgin snow!

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Rondel Poem
1. Poem consists of 13 lines in 3 stanzas
2. Rhyme scheme: ABba/abBA/abbaA (uppercase letters are refrains)
3. Usually 8 syllables per line 

New Year Resolutions 2013

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MC900444925Okay, it’s New Year’s Day and it’s time for some resolutions,
but I’ve given up making them, I just need some solutions.
I have absolutely no more room in my house for more “stuff”,
and I’ve tried to downsize, but obviously not hard enough.
So this year, I’ll throw away something every single day,
never mind how much I had to pay, or how I’d like it to stay.
As I didn’t use it, play it, wear it or eat it last year,
if I threw it away tomorrow, I should not shed a tear.

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Looking back on Twenty Twelve

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Tower Bridge from a river boatThe year started very badly, it seemed to me,
when I lost my two dear friends to the great big C.
Our Winter seemed to go on and on forever.
We all thought that our Spring would arrive here never.

But then when finally bulbs burst through from the earth,
Mother Nature took over, blooming for all she was worth.
We could go outside and enjoy every day.
Pretty Spring was here at last, and soon it was May.

Then things changed back again and our weather was wet.
The hosepipe ban in April, we would soon forget.
But Britain was given momentous occasions –
the London Olympics and Jubilee celebrations.

For weeks it seemed we were all in such good spirits
as the Queen, and the Olympic torch drove our streets.
Union Jacks were flying from every landmark,
and we had street parties, or picnics in the park.

We all went around with huge beams on our faces,
for Chelsea Flower Show and the Ascot Races,
and the next good thing was, oh what a big surprise –
our Andy Murray won Wimbledon’s big first prize.

Life couldn’t get better – we had all had a ball
and soon we were enjoying a colourful Fall.
But all good things have to come to an end it seems,
but they will live on in our memories and dreams.

Follow that, Twenty Thirteen! What is there in store?
Then I wonder, do we really want to know any more?
Well, there’ll be a Royal Baby from Kate and Wills,
so we’ll all keep flags flying from our window sills!.

Choughs

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Cornwall Sep 07 Lizard 017

Did you know that I am an auntie to some choughs?
They live here at Cornwall’s Lizard, on these bluffs.
Their breeding nests are well guarded both night and day,
just in case marauding egg hunters come that way.
It is good to know that they are back at nightfall
safely nesting, where they belong in old Cornwall.

St Ives – An Artist’s Paradise

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How many diff’rent shades of blue can one get into a view?
‘An artist’s paradise’ they call it. That’s just so very true.
If I could paint a picture, then I would paint one now for you,
but I guess that my little photo here will just have to do.

St Ives is the place to be whenever you are feeling blue.
There are beaches to die for and ev’ry street affords a view.
There’s gift shops and galleries up little narrow alley ways
and perchance you will find a pleasant place to gawp, gasp and gaze.

Warlocks, Witches and Water

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We all went to visit Boscastle long before
the devastating floods of two thousand and four.
We walked the dogs in the park, then down the harbour,
and took lots of good photos, like we’d done before.

We clambered over rocks, sat on the landing stage,
then bought souvenirs in the old crooked cottage.
We went in the museum, then had a cream tea
and bought mugs and jugs in Boscastle pottery.

The unique smell of Boscastle gets in your nose.
Aromas of woodsmoke, lavender and musk rose.
There’s a spooky feel of magic and mystery
and a feeling you’re drawn into its history.

How dreadful to hear about the terrible flood,
with cars swept from the car park, and lost in the mud,
with the old crooked cottage and bridge washed away
by the raging river that awful August day.
Let us give thanks that there were no human lives lost.
But what a loss for the villagers! What a cost!

But we’ve been back since and they’ve all pulled together,
Redesigned the car park to withstand the weather,
Rebuilt the cottage, but a little bit straighter,
It looks pretty new now but will improve later.
One wonders now whether the warlocks and witches
are still around there, or have drowned in the ditches!

 The Harbour Light before the floods The Harbour Lights rebui

Frosty the Snowman

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The last thing I expected to see that morning was a snowman with a carrot nose standing beside my laptop. Well of course it wasn’t a real snowman – just one of those awful blow-up dolls that you see in cheap shops. But how did it get there? More importantly, who put it there? I live alone with my two dogs and, as far as I know, no-one else has a key to my house.

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Winter Woods

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Owl in the Mist

A watery winter sun warmed the westward woods
but no birdsong burst from the bare branched birches.
Hawthorn hedges were hidden in the haze,
yet a feathered fiend had fixed his gaze.
Stiff, silent trees were standing stark;
wide eyes were watching, waiting.
Suddenly from his nest,
gracefully gliding
over frosty fields,
came the barn owl
seeking his
supper
feast.

Then
with a
sudden swoop,
and still no sound
he dived to the ground,
then soared high again,
caught in his claws his catch.
Heading back from whence he came,
silently sweeping through the sky,
flew with his famished family’s feast.
Yet still no whisper from the waiting woods,
the sun sank sadly ‘neath the skies in the west.
Silence, save for sounds of scrunching from the owl ‘s nest.

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Inspired by photographing my friend’s watercolour painting from a picture in the RSPB magazine 

Nights in white satin

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My face went a whiter shade of pale
when my man asked me over to stay
for passionate nights in white satin
because he was soon going away.

He was leaving for Sweden next week,
he would not be back for a long while
it would feel like forever autumn
before I would get to see his smile.

With my bright eyes full of wretched tears
that were falling halfway down my cheek,
I swallowed the big lump in my throat
before I could start to softly speak.

“Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will gladly lay me down with you.
We will frolic in your white satin
and I’ll prove my love for you is true.”

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C.W Exercise:-
Take a random list of five song titles and write a poem using them.
I’ve used some of my favourites:-
Whiter shade of pale
Bridge over troubled waters
Forever Autumn 
Bright eyes
Nights in white satin 


 



Downsizing

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There they all are gathering dust,
so many memories of mine.
But let them go I really must.
I can do it, I will be fine.

I’ll have a go at the paper
that is piling up into hills.
It really will be a caper
to destroy those horrid old bills.

Then I will turn out my wardrobe,
clothes dating date back to eighty three.
They really have gone out of mode
and fitted a much smaller me.

Then there is my old bone china.
It suited me once I suppose,
but now I use some less finer,
I’ve gone off the old country rose.

We’ve been building and erecting,
while we let the family grow.
I’ve spent all my life collecting,
but now it’s time to let them go.

Those wasted years of spend, spend, spend!
I just cannot believe my eyes.
This gathering has all got to end.
It is time for me to downsize.




A birthday prayer for a departed friend

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Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
will shelter you well beneath its bough.
Wild cyclamen planted round its feet
are nodding to make your day complete.
Yellow roses in a simple spray
brought here to celebrate your birthday
by your friends, your nearest and dearest,
in the place you chose to take your rest.

In the spring, our snowdrops will push through
and English bluebells will cover you.
Wild anemones over your head
will wander above your resting bed.
We’ll come back then and scatter seeds
to flower freely amongst the weeds.
Not really weeds, just nature’s flowers
‘neath that memorial tree of ours.

May all these flowers bloom, as you did,
and brighten this woodland place amid
the thistles, grasses and the nettles
under this cherry tree’s pink petals.
And may you lie in peace and rest
beneath that tree you loved the best.
And may our flowers bloom and spread
over your green tranquil woodland bed.

 

 

 

With apologies to A E Houseman for stealing his first line


Fungus Invasion

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This year has been damp and a good year for fungus,
some are small and pretty and some are humongous,
some crowd in circles around the base of our trees
and some decorate their trunks right up to their knees.

Some look quite cute, almost with friendly faces,
some dark and threatening, crowd in other places,
some look like phallic symbols, some like fairies’ hats,
some look like they should live with Dracular and bats.

Toadstools grow in circles but I have looked to see,
and there’s no sign that I can find of a fairy.
Mushrooms should be good this year, but I’m scared to try
any that I find in woods as I’m passing by.

We’ve been invaded this year with all sorts of spores,
they’re multiplying over the ground in their scores.
Ash trees have been struck with a fungus invasion,
spores from foreign woods have ruined England’s equation.

I feel like I’m living on another planet:
everywhere I go the grass is soggy and wet,
fungi cover the ground in woods everywhere
and I have to step all around them with great care.

I don’t want my dogs to catch a fungus disease,
just like the one that’s killing our native ash trees.

 

Ash tree die back report from the Telegraph

Dog disease caused by fungus


Heartbreak Recovery

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Every night I lay awake ’til dawn,
I tried counting sheep right through ’til the morn.
Every day the tears fell down my cheeks,
every night the hours turned into weeks.

You told me good-bye that November week.
My heart froze at the words I heard you speak.
You told me that you had found another
and you wanted to live with your lover.

But every day my heart felt lighter.
and every day my soul felt brighter,
when I realised that you were no loss
and all you wanted was to be the boss.

Being independent, I can now choose
which dress to wear, and which pair of shoes;
what I should eat, and at what time of day,
and where I should go when I want to play.

No more do I have to watch sport on T.V.
cos I watch what I want now I am free.
I can watch soppy movies, and some soaps
and silly quiz programmes that boost our hopes.

I can lounge about in my dressing gown;
I can go with my girlfriends into town.
We can shop ’til we drop, and then some more;
we can window shop in every store.

I can chat on line with guys I might meet:
there’s plenty more who could sit in your seat.
Lots have already asked me to dinner.
I dine out each week, I’m on a winner!

So I’ve wiped my tears, and I’ll cry no more.
I’ll look forward to what I’ve got in store,
and you can go on with your humdrum life
with your new found family, and new wife!


A dog called Spot

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A Dogs Trust dog called Spot

Our Mum has sponsored a dog called “Spot”
he’s not like us, but we think we like him a lot.
He’s seven and a half and it’s so very sad
that he was abandoned – because he was bad?

He lives in the Rehoming Centre in Ballymena
a bit far to visit but someone may be keener
to give him a home so he can live a nice life
and sit by the fire with a man and his wife.

The Dogs Trust charity will never put dogs down
– there may be one somewhere near to your town.
So we hope there’ll be a dog who might make you weep,
like our Spot, who now has Mum to pay for his keep.

We wish we could meet him and go out and play.
He’d love it here but wouldn’t be able to stay.
He’d be hard to handle and he’s so far away too,
and our Mum has her hands full already with us two.

Maybe you’d like to sponsor a dog as well. Perhaps you can’t have a dog of your own but would like to know that you are helping to keep another dog alive, who has been abandoned. If you would like to support this worthwhile cause, visit the Dogs Trust site»
To read more about Spot, visit his webpage»