Thursday, February 15, 2024

MORE OF THE SAME....

 Poetry again, some of it repeated because Fiorella never did put her whimsy in order.....

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The first poem she can find, probably written in Junior High:

     The Quest

                 The pond 's o'er froze, the corn is blight

              The fields frost over silver white

              The ice-bound branches of the trees

              Are breaking in the winter breeze

                  The ground is hard, the sky is bare

               The sobbing wind alone disturbs the air 

                And cries aloud its grief, unreconciled

                As Ceres searches for her missing child

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    Marionette

                 Dress the corpse in red and bright

                 And paint her pretty face--

                 Tie lines onto her hands and feet

                And make her dance in place

                   If you  hold her jaw just so

                And pull it with a string,

                Supply a voice and words and tune,

                She will even sing

                   Then you can whistle and applaud

                 Her every sight and sound

                 Because she is the most alive 

                 Of any corpse around

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I'm drunk on the wine of glory

Red-nosed and wobbly and gay!

So what if I day tomorrow

At least I have lived for today!

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          Unfortunately, Fiorella has written loads of poetry, but hasn't labeled it in any way but titles.   Anyone want to come over and help her?

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