Aftermath

Free stock photo of abstract, architecture, backdrop
Adonyi Gábor at Pexels

It started like any other day

But events took a life of their own

In a flash all sense of security

Was stripped from the idea of home

It all seemed beyond their control

For those who there did dwell

How did the quarrel of others

Turned their own lives to hell?

Though none who lived there

Were in body harmed

No wounds that you can see

The damage of their sense of certainty

Like the walls, bear the day’s legacy


Padre

Tudor Tutorial

Public Domain

Henry had Henry

Who had Ed, Mary, and Liz

That’s the way it works

In the royalty bizz

Spanish Mary failed – to give Eight a son

So he divorced her

And sent her to live like a nun

He then married Anne because she was hot

But to do so – he became a Prot

Exit Rome, to monks say goodbye, 

Till Mary made her entrance and Cranmer did die

Along came Liz and the papacy she forbids

She sank some Spanish boats –

But she didn’t have kids

To Scotland for a new monarch

An invitation – they did send

So there our Tudorial must come to an end


Padre

 

Saturday Mix – Opposing Forces:

Our words this week are:

– divorced and married

– exit and entrance

To Bill Shakestick Indebted: A Challenge

Shakespeare.jpg
Public Domain

Thee(s) and thou(s) no longer a thing

They have for most an archaic ring

As teachers imbue knowledge

Of some Danish prince

The unfamiliar phrases

Make our brains wince

We sit in class – quite subdued

“To be or not” leaves us confused

And yet for some – the enlightened few

The rhythms sink-in and spark something new

Rhymes fill your imagination and there they stew

You start writing poetry – what else can you do?

If something like this has happened to you

Then share a verse on how it is true

Now with no more gilding the lily

No further ado 

I leave the next verse – up to you

 

Padre


 

 

Please do give it a try and share.

 

 

Yours Truly

Paint Chip Poetry

 

We speak just once in a blue moon

And that often seems to soon;

We haven’t always seen eye to eye;

Harmony at times in short supply.

I know my temper may seem lava hot

Especially when you keep babbling like a brook

But humour me now and take a look

Have the courage to stop and see

That of all the people in the world

Your closest friend is me.

 

Padre

Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #39

 

 

 

Chance

People, Woman, Relax, Chill, Coffee, Couch, Window
Pixabay

Was that second meeting,

A ploy or accident?

Did you by just chance – arrive

Or was it an encounter – heaven sent?

What can be the chances

Of us meeting again so soon?

I wonder if it has something –

To do with you having the adjoining room

 

Padre