Seems like a good day to write little not love poems. Please add one. Here's mine for today.
Roses are red, violets are blue
Vaccinate your lover
and don't get the measles.
You started this thread, with this post, in February 2019, before the word pandemic was even on the horizon of our common, daily speech. Perhaps you are more of a prophet than you thought.
Roses are red
Some people aren't breathing
Killed by the Covid
From the premier's dithering
(After 2 months of no restrictions, a 435% increase in cases in 3 weeks, we finally have a mandatory mask order and vaccination passports. It's been terrible.)
Comments
Variants are scary
More infectious and deadly
Everyone should be wary
Roses are red
Vaccines are aren't perfection
They don't stop infection
Until 4 weeks post injection
Roses are red
Masks colours are various
I saw a mask protest
It wasn't hilarious
Third rhymes with bird
Fourth rhymes with north
But what about fifth?
And so does sixth (sort of)
Violets are fun.
Have we all eaten
A hot cross bun?
Violets are blue
I've eaten several -
How about you?
The buns they are cross-less
Disappeared while baking
Perhaps its symbolic?
(This happened this year. Different oven as we moved house.)
Of buns one a Penny.
I’ve eaten six,
Of calories many. 😁
Golden the toffee;
I'll be having one later
With my cup of coffee.
Working the diet
I was doing just fine
Til I read this riot
You started this thread, with this post, in February 2019, before the word pandemic was even on the horizon of our common, daily speech. Perhaps you are more of a prophet than you thought.
Violets are blue
NOprophet's a prophet
How about you?
Roses aren't blue
Snow isn't red
I started the thread
When worried 'bout flu
Buns and cake a fiddle
Each one a doughnut
Around my middle
Waistbands get tighter
If you keep scoffing chocolate
To fuel an all-nighter
rare vaccine blood clots
mean the risk is much lower
to take the AZ shot
Blue is the sea.
We're all going to miss
Golden Key.
Tangled the vine.
I'll soon be having
A nice glass of wine.
Kittens are frisky
You keep drinking wine
And I'll drink my whisky.
White is the salt.
I do enjoy
A single malt.
Bluebirds can fly
I very much enjoy
An American rye
so is the rye
around here it's all pot shops
do you smoke it? not I
Now I've got an earworm:
Bye bye, Miss American Rye ...
[/tangent]
Brown is the deer.
My thanks to you both
For that worm in my ear.
Pot shops, ubiquitous
I do not imbibe
Be it benign or iniquitous.
And London cabs.
I've heard about
The Joints for Jabs.
Blue is the sea
I'm happy because
There's stir fry for tea.
Caterpillars hairy
Off on retreat tomorrow
The prospect is scary.
Acidic the lime.
I'm sure you'll have
A wonderful time.
Blue is the violet,
Yellow the hay.
How long are you going
To be away?
Some people aren't breathing
Killed by the Covid
From the premier's dithering
(After 2 months of no restrictions, a 435% increase in cases in 3 weeks, we finally have a mandatory mask order and vaccination passports. It's been terrible.)
Prayerful the time
I’ll be on shore leave
‘Cos I’ll be offline!
Oh Miffy, my dear
I wish I could go
I'd trade in a heartbeat.
While roses are red
I'm not needing flowers.
I do wish my surgeon
Wonderful powers.
Monday's the day
I hope they are ready
the hospital stays open,
and the scalpel holds steady.
Hot is the chilli.
Sending you virtual hugs,
Dear Lily.
Roses are red
Violets are blue.
Praying it all
Goes smoothly for you.
Violets are blue.
Wondering, Lily,
How things are for you?
Golden the bee.
Have you put up
Your Christmas tree?
With thorn is the rose,
With scorn do I see
Those who propose
The premature, untimely, Christmas tree
[/snarl]
Concrete is grey
We prefer Christmas Eve
But settle for some Saturday after St. Nicholas Day
Noisy the jet.
To just clarify:
Mine isn't up yet.
Some others are white
My tree's going up
Next Saturday night.
Violets are blue
I think that ours
Might be too.
I'd do it earlier
But it might then
Incur the wrath
Of Mr Nen.
Mom had so much
It's missed just now
Berries and such
My poetry
Lacks a rhyme or two
I'm still on meds
At least that's my excuse!
Violets are blue.
Great to see Lily!
How are you?
@Lily Pad
Left to go
Then I may walk
They tell me so!
Violets are blue.
I hope it all
Goes well for you.
Roses are perfumed,
Reindeer are prancing.
Is there a timetable
For the tap-dancing?
Red is the rose,
And green is the Grinch.
I don't put up a tree,
so the "when" is a cinch!
My tap dancer
Days rest in "ago".
I've gone to pot
Don't you know.
Lost too, the fling,
The sword dance too.
I'll stay and serve
The punch, in lieu.
Sparkly the trinket.
You serve the punch
And I'm happy to drink it.
And hot is the chilli
How lovely to see
once again, our dear Lily!
@Lily Pad
Its berries red (umpter)
Are you wearing
Your Christmas jumper?
My case is a sad one
Christmas jumper?
I've never had one.
You need not be sad
Do ‘Believe’
There’s a jumper to be had.