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Poems
by Terry Brinkman

 

 

Virtue of a Bride

 

Unshed tears hang over her Coffee Mug of cider

Touch lightly with two index fingers of Irish Gin

That is a not necessity virtue for a bride

A Grecian genius Romance Novel Slider

Awful clever girl’s wild oats outsider

Speaker at the Grand Old Opera tongue

Loneliest son doing clever fireside sketches

Too much correspondence nook-shortens French

That night the girl was left behind in a chill

Earthquake shook her until she fell

Shrew her ill-favored cries of Daffodils

Blue Windows London bedchambers missing glass

War-wick-shine passionate girl’s whippoorwill

She was not to blame speech was just less thrilling

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Sonnet CCCLXXX

 

Unshed tears hang over her mug of cider

Touch lightly with two index fingers wide

That is a necessity virtue for a bride

A Grecian vice genius glider

Awful clever cat’s wild oats outsider

Speak with the grand old tongue died

Loneliest daughter doing clever sketches fireside

Too much correspondence nook-shortens French decider

The girl was left behind with a chill

Earthquake did not come willing

Shrew ill-favored cry of Daffodils

Blue Windows London bedchambers chilling

War-wick-shine passionate pilgrim whippoorwill

She was to blame speech less thrilling

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Sonnet CCCLXXI

 

Creaked briskly galliard voluble pain in her back

Most honest broad-brim zeal in a bag

Dutiful fallowed provincial flag

Hasty bowing in a dark alley Cardiac

Bure a hole in the coffin rack

Stick with a knob pocking the rear bag

Before rested server piped in treble drag

My knee cap is hurting said Jack

One whiff of blue bad-gas blew

Must be fed-up with her cold dinner

Apes of the lofty lane brew

Enter the side door of the spinner

Lane of sepulchers Irish blue

Fault halted many a good woman’s breadwinner

 

 

a line, (a blue one)

 

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