in the solitude
of night splendor
the mind drifts
to a tranquil plain
glinting pin holes
in skies do bring rest
to the mind's
wearied taxed vein
all thinking silenced
within stellar pool  
one able to forget
the daily bustling train

I have a job's list longer than an arm
But none of them bring to me loads of charm
Where to start is the question that I ask
I ponder which one to give a top spot
They all implore me to get on the trot

From the kitchen dishes yell out to me
So does the floor beg for my housemaid's knee
In these gross chores I don't want to bask
Yet they require my urgent attention
The state of my digs not worth a mention

Once I have an energy burst come to me
The job's lengthy list will be whittled down
I wish to rid my house of it's grubby frown
Without further adieu I'll busy as a bee

seeing a bee
buzzing around a tree
would make thee
feel rather jolly

for jolly me
a buzzing bee
engenders much
glee

when the blossoms
appear on the spring trees
one shall be elated greatly
hearing the buzzing of the bees

of calculus the man had no good sense
which was plain in the poor syllable count he did
on figuring his abilities dense
an accounting firm wouldn't pay him a quid
yet he professed to being very sum smart
though of genius none could be reckoned
the error in the abacuses bead part
correct numbers of him so beckoned
eleven were employed on each line
over the roof by a digit he went
instead of using the standard ten mine
his sonnet seemed so ungainly of bent
the final total wasn't quite up to scratch
hence his poem not put in the flawless batch

Californian skies ever blue
long hung the hue
rain didn't appear
only a dry fear

the landscape sought lots of wetness  
soaking dampness
yet none did drop
all in a flop

wells depleted of goodly fill
water flows still
arid the land
no rain at hand

across the crystal clear lake
the swans did gracefully glide
their deportment o'er water
calm in countenance

gleefully he rubbed his hands together
goodly dough inflows would ring the till
generous amounts from wallet leather
greatly bolstering the enterprise's gill

lots of quids a bank rolling treasure chest
loving the sound that the money word made
liberally taking it for the poet's nest
leveraging what they'd place in his lade

only a select few owning credit line
oh and their income got good will galore
opening the site up as a gold mine
Olive went on about ops at the store

now an abundance of fees buys backing
negotiations are done this very way
never forget what's been in her tracking
noteworthy is the story's candid relay

he aspires to have
the top job in the land
and he's of a donkey's
kind of brand

this man is well known
for being big on touch
though those he has
touched don't like it much

in past days he played
the role of sidekick
and his boss at that time
was pretty slick

he's of an advanced
age
some will say it hasn't
made him sage

by late next year  he may
acquire the position
but he'll need to be in
peak running condition

capitulation is on the English sides mind
their brand of cricket has been of an awful kind
this ashes series our Australian side blew them away
as they had a very stylish form of play

the bowling and batting of the Australian team
has wrecked the English lads winning dream
our lads didn't put a foot wrong on the wicket  
they were a class act at playing the game of cricket

the last match in the series is on to-day
and the Australians will most certainly be making hay
at this stage they've got the English struggling
they've not got enough fire power in their batting

after the lunch break we'll have the English all out
they'll be wearing the odd ****** pout
they've not prepared well in any facet of the game
which has been a terrible shame

the annuls of cricket shall record England's loss
and speak glowingly of the Australian teams gloss
the 2013-2014 ashes series a series of capitulation
where the English didn't play well against our nation

Bill the bard was talking to me to-day
Our chat did center on sonnet writing
He said I should pen something exciting
So a poem of that ilk I'll now display
A new talent was unearthed last night
On the seven television station
She received a rousing ovation
Her future in entertainment looks bright
A recording contract is on the books
She'll be a singer who'll have many smash hits
Her excellent voice can reach high notes
As well as that she has the most classy looks
Bill and I shall enjoy many newsy tidbits
Telling of her career anecdotes

cascading water flowed
over the sharp rock ledges
on its course to the delta
where it splayed out

living the ultimate fantasy  
on the casting couch
a reverie of carnal pleasure
there did always slouch

some of the starlets role playing
just for him
his ****** appetite at showtime
was never trim  

he'd manhandle the sweet
titillating dames
who sought parts in the next
blockbuster movie frames

Mr Weinstein's past productions
are presently getting press
not so
good
seems the gropper extraordinaire
has split from Hollywood's
dream
neighborhood

when they lay me to rest
I hope they put me in a cedar wood chest
and if they don't bury me as I request
they'll be haunted by me
until they do as I request
which is to bury me in a cedar wood chest

her cerise lips invited
him to partake of a kiss
with the spark now ignited
their smooch did sizzle

in the depths
of the cerulean sea
his thoughts
were immersed
the crossing of a bridge
into a territory promising
his mind reflected
e'er deeper the fathoms
to be in this location
where days of penury
would no more be

is there going to be a change
of administration
or will the status quo still be
leading the nation  

with the election being
one hundred days away
that's when the citizens
get to have a final say    

both candidates are hoping
for a decisive win
but only one president
can be voted in

when early November arrives
on the scene
we'll have an idea as to who'll
fill the oval office screen  

presently Trump and Biden are
pitching their spiel
to an electorate who could well
alter the tiller at the wheel  
  
is there going to be a change
of administration
or will the status quo still
be leading the nation

down the main drag of our town
the thundering sound of motor bikes did resound
folks in our town rushed out doors
to see what was making such an almighty roar

the bikers were on their monthly charity rally
they stopped at the local pub owned by John O'Malley
they partook of a ration of ale
whilst filling their donation pails

after an interlude in our small township
they straddled their chrome plated Harley ships
to ride along the country byways
on this most magnificent autumn day

clouds smudged of a shade grey
hung around on this dull day
they blocked the sun's bright ray
cheerless their display