Everyday Poetry

 As in "something that complete the whole",  rather than someone paying compliments!  You're the yin to my yang The slap to my bang The soul to my rock The pendulum to my clock.  You're the light in my dark The ignition of my spark The umbrella in my rain The beer to my champagne.  You're the butter on my toast The sea lapping at my coast The fish to my chips The core to my pips.  You're the road I walk along The lyrics to my song The spice to my herbs The action in my verbs. You're the wood to my trees The thanks to my please The horse to my carriage The frisson in our marriage.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

Today's challenge word is 'material'.  I couldn't decide whether to describe different types of fabric, or to consider the more materialistic, monetary meaning of the word, and ended up with this.  I was doing so well setting up my boudoir, Lacy lingerie allowing teasing glimpses to show, Cushions of silk and velvet, a snuggly fur throw - A sultry feast, a sensuous repertoire.  But, as usual I had to go too far. Though satin sheets the degree of luxe improved, They were so slippery, all friction was removed, And it all ended up on the floor!  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

I've always loved Adrian Henri's poem 'Love is...', ever since my first husband wrote it out to me in a letter he sent from university,  when I was still at school doing my A levels.  That last verse is enough to melt the hardest heart!   Our poetry group is sharing love poems next month,  so I've challenged them all to come up with "an extra verse"!  Here's what came to me.  Love is special, love is kind Love is all the treats you find Love is always on my mind Love is... Love is cuddles in the morning Love is awake and love is yawning Love is special at dusk and dawning Love is... Love is inside all the cards we sent Love is left behind in places we went Love is what our lives have meant Love is... Love is clothes dropped on the floor Love is not minding when you snore Love is left always wanting more Love is... Love is you and love is me Love is a still pond and a raging sea Love is all the days that are left to be Love is.  © Copyright 2021. C...

Cows push their heads through the bars of the gate Unsettled by boots ringing out on the frosty lane,  Restless they snort, breath forming foggy plumes, Insistent on being noticed, hoping for food.  Over the steaming slack sway of their backs Upright and frozen, hoofprints make tracks Satisfied the cows turn, curiosity lax.   © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

This morning's theme is 'pareidolia' - the ability to see shapes (often faces) in random patterns.  I've never written a poem about this,  so I thought I'd have some fun with this and other hard to rhyme long words. I've long had benign pareidolia  Seeing faces on doors, floors and chairs It's not helped at all by myopia As I see what I think might be there.  As a child it became an obsession I'd sit on the loo for long whiles It would actually make quite an impression While I found faces in all the floor tiles.  Nowadays I'm relaxed about the phenomenon The faces have become cherished friends In my world, their appearance goes on and on, I'll be happy if this gift never ends.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved