Insane Sonnets

Second Hand Shoes 

After I've sat and mused awhile 
on things I might have seen or missed 
or places that I might have been 
or those I could or not resist, 
I slowly bend to pull the laces 
intertwining with my shoes, 
that have not and have been places 
on some ambling country cruise. 

At times I've caught myself amused 
to think they, sometime in the past, 
clung to someone else's feet 
treading down a distant street. 
And, knowing I'll not be the last, 
take care to see they're not abused. 

It's Not Unknown 

It's not unknown for one to see 
a deer stopped in it's tracks 
or sight a gasping bumble bee 
making sneak attacks 
on brightly coloured pantaloons 
drying in the breeze 
on hot and sunny afternoons 
just right for outdoor teas. 

And it is quite astonishing 
to what lengths we will go 
to shoot the deer and swat the bee 
and raze the pastures low. 
We say the urging comes from lust 
to equalise this dust, with dust.
Categorized as Poems

By Arthur Richardson

Very part time poem maker. Retired from paid work.

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