Shy Guts

Shy guts

As I stand here watching, I can’t help but look.

But as I gaze upon your beautiful face, I realize that this idea is a closed book.

Damn, are you kidding? She’s gorgeous!

Her face looks like it was carved by angels.

As soon as a muster the courage to ask her to dance, I second guess my decision.

Maybe she’ll turn me down.

Maybe she thinks I’m not cute.

Maybe she’s leaving.

But my conscience speaks up.

Hey, you,

 Come on, you got this.

I decide to have no regrets in that moment,

My Midwest charm is turned all the way on.

“May I have this dance?”

“Why of course” she answers, “I would love to!”

I lead her to the dance floor as I grasp her hand in mine

As we sway to the beat of the song that’s playing,

She lays down her head on my skinny broad shoulders.

But after that last song, it’s time for both of us to go.

This one night I will never forget, a kiss on the cheek after I saw her one last time,

Until she disappeared that night.

That was a sign I have seen one too many times,

The realization that I would not see her for a while killed me inside once again.

Maybe I’ll never see her again.

Getting wordy with it

A drazel is getting  pretzel

Because the baguette was too French for her tastes

The Illuminati symbol turns into a Boomerang, zooming by

 a bumblebee, humblebee, bumblebee is flying around an awesome blossom,

This is quite a threat if you are of adolesence.

A possum strolls by, and begins to climb a branch.

A festuceous excellence was shown by the possum’s ability to play dead.

The essence of the smell was like a kench had been sitting in the phosphorescence,

 as an apology was given by the odorous possum

Psychology, anthropology books were gotten after the song

I woke up in a new bugatti was played,

After that the art of Fastidiousness was all gone.   

Leaves ever changing

Look,

Your eyes are glued

To the outside of your

window, the leaves are falling.

Left, Left, Left, Right, Left, Up, Down, All around,

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Purple,

Each singular leaf’s path may not be foreseen.

Floating, Fluttering, Flipping, Flopping, onto the ground.

Along comes the rake, sweeping the leaf onward.

After it is swept onto and into the pile, you may not see it for a while.

Roll, Spin, Flip, Glide, many leaves are brought from Eurus, bringing a

Clumsy, Crazy, Curvy Boreas gust even closer to the frozen tundra

that we call Minnesota, or the place where hell froze over Hades

 Only time will tell us if the breeze will guide the leaves on a path, that may not be disturbed, or if the

gods of wind control their path so that they may bring happiness to all

who come upon the path of a leaf, Floating, Fluttering, Flipping, Flopping.

 Whirly, Light, filthy, clean as a whistle, weak, wet, dried, and dirty.

Puny, large, small, Humungous, Obscene

Each singular leaf’s path has been foreseen.

Left, Left, Left, Right, Left, Up, Down, All around,

Every leaf still has a little green,

and each with its own unique sheen.

Our eyes begin to fade, as we

Begin to blink, and notice that our eyes

Are no longer fixated on the window glass panes,

That is when we venture outside of our safe, warm, homes.

We take the gamble,

whip the poker face out to hide our fear

of Mother Nature’s gravitating force.

The leaves are falling, down, down, down.

Ringing around Rosie, falling down again.

Our vision starts to fade, as we become

enclosed from head to toe in leaves.

Breathing Heavily, emerged I am.