Poems

A shimmer of the alpine lake
reflects her alabaster down.
Her perfect neck, though, wears no crown;
an instinct tells her what’s at stake.

A moment, and she’s poised to fly.
Her angel wings respond in kind;
beat mightily, but from the blind
a shotgun intercepts the sky.

She struggles for a beat or two,
still climbing as if hope remains.
The effort coursing through her veins.
Soon she might make it out of view!

But then she falls, no more ballet;
no swan to grace the alpine lake.
Blood gushes out in a red spray
and forms new ripples for her wake


Author notes: wc 102 image from Pinterest https://allpoetry.com/contest/2784287-Fantasy-1025 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cNQFB0TDfY

I got my boscolousio
My mama was so proud
It was in Villa Loggio
In front of a big crowd

A smidgepigion, quite quizzical
did wish me all the best
I found it porodoxical
Perhaps it was in jest

My prize was no, not a gazelle
I find them stuffy, stuffed
But a complete tokengratzelle
And I went home all puffed


Author notes: Unword Prompt: 1.  Boscolousio 2.  Smidgepigion 3.  Tokengratzelle 4.  Porodixical https://allpoetry.com/contest/2784341---Another-UNWORD-Contest--to-whet-your-poet-noguest