Frank the Foreigner

Frank the Foreigner

The day I had my first slow dance
Was at a summer joll in France
With sweaty palms and sparkly eyes
We swirled and swayed under blue skies

But, after twelve, all went downhill
Chase said, "Just strollin' to the mill."
Beneath a shifting wooden arm
Was Stacey with her shiny balm

Now this flat mountain I should climb
Is not gentle or fresh or lime
I wanna know what real love is
I wanna feel what real love is

Eventually, I said, "I do"
To a gorgeous druggie - who knew?!
I worked to the bone to pay rent
On flying cows, our money went...

One fine day I read about Christ
Was I lost and my small heart iced?
He saw me lying in the sand
I looked at Him and took His Hand

I like being so new and free
Learning that I'm free to be me
I believe I know Who Love is
I believe I sense Who Love is

Sad souls should be left to cry
If Jesus loves me, so should I
Obviously, I deserve more
Than ol' Frank passed out on the floor

Pictures of him and Mary Jane
Showed his arguements were in vain
I then chose a cute, seaside flat
And chilled with Tom my dear cat

Through clouds I can see sparkling light
If life grows cold, I'll be alright
I finally know Who Love is
I finally feel Who Love is


© 2013 Amy N.J.

White Shrubs in the Dawn

White Shrubs in the Dawn

I skip to that yard on this summer's day

A thick, moist mist environs my walkway
The corners are filled with young peonies
The center is used by grazing bunnies

Quickly a forceful smell leaves from the breeze

The scent tickles my nose and makes me sneeze
Stretched 'round the narrow, stone path is this hedge
Excitedly, I study from a ledge

The small petals are not much of an art

But pure corolla are close at the heart
The hundreds of clusters adorn the green
With a strikingly white and snowy gleam!

Ending a stroll 'round the wonder therein
Then jocundly tread back to my jasmine
Their blinding front became sketchy and mild
They now want to sleep, like owls in the wild

This organism that is rich in oils

Is glad and pretty above its dark soils
They drew me near with their open faces
Although I must stroll back with small paces.

© 2013 Amy N.J.

Ballade about "Luke"

Favour with Luke

I quiver from the crisp air

Then sup on my lemonade
Still, my fat cheek's blush is there
Luke sways off in shoes of suede
I'm charmed and my day is made
Do I miss him?? Was I rash?
“Dear Jesus, thank You!” I prayed.
He turns my head into mash

Gently, I neaten my hair

I watch Twitter in the shade
Then ponder back with the glare
And dream as the dull world fades

Luke struts to the cement's shade

Like a peacock - with delay
We both know he's had "it made”
He turned my mind into mash


Luke's rugged hair still has a flair
Now, there's no river to wade
Chilled weather leave the clouds fair
But yet, I sense I am sprayed
My dragged glance causes a stare
I fake I have a red rash
Just his lashes met the grade
He turns my head into mash

I was snapped back by a maid

She said, “Thank ya for the cash!”
The bill paid! His business card!
He turns my mind into mash.

© 2013 Amy N.J.

Petrarchan Sonnet on Petria Vines

Petria Vines

Bursting brick wall of Petria
A hue as clear as tanzanite
Meaning affection at first sight
Entangled with Wisteria
The background eased with Lavender
When complete the blooms will take flight
and spin! Now they are youthful, bright
Along with Pride of India

Vines 'n leaves disguised the smooth wall
Soft, heavenly water gushes
gracing petals that are depressed
adjacent to marked Ridpath Hall
Over-thriving bares wild lashes
Every fair stem charmingly dressed

© 2012 Amy N.J.

Petrarchan Spring Sonnet

Petrarchan Spring Sonnet

Dead leaves - end of winter
Crystal ice start to melt
Brave shoots come out their belt.
By a puce conifer
Honey Locusts gather
In the bitter, bare velt.
Blade leaves are lightly felt
Giraffe lashes flutter

Oh, that smile in my sight!
I think of you of late
Blue skies with whipped cream white
There Thumper finds his mate.
Flight of Angels take flight
Diverging to a new state.


© 2012 Amy N.J.