You and Your Old-World Charm
I sigh, I wrack my soul with darkest sorrows
for yesterday’s delights, not for tomorrow’s;
I’m dancing backwards all the time you’re near
in fear that all my romance only borrows
–or steals, perhaps–from something far too shining
and too refined for wasting on repining,
those salad days we ought to hold so dear
instead of wasting happiness with whining . . .
I will stop whimpering like boobs and babies,
and let go of the wherefore-nots and maybes;
instead I’ll let your elegance and charm
revive me from this case of “retro-rabies”,
reminding me time’s such a grand invention,
a Golden Age not lost to this dimension,
as long as boulevardiers remain,
like you, aptly distracting our attention
with courtly kisses and such furbelows
and petals hung on every breeze that blows,
bringing the romance back into the present:
yes, I can fall in love with all of those . . .
Pardon My Parsnips
Parkinson’s particular
pet pudding’s par-cooked parkin;
his partner’s partial to parfait,
that paragon; yet hearken:
those sub-par parabolic parts
of almonds, partly parted–
not fully sliced, par excellence—
make Parkinson hard-hearted,
for those same partial nonpareils
leave his poor partner parched
for parsley tea to the degree
you’d pardon if he marched,
parade-like, past, departed hence
to parsley gardens, fast,
in search of same to quench the flame,
–apparently aghast–
and Parkinson in repartee
imparted their remorse:
“Though sparse, the parcels of our thanks
are thus par for the course.”
Then Parsons, partner to the man,
now almond-paroxysed,
creaks out a tea-tinged parable
of why he’s paralyzed;
and both the partners no parfait
or parkin now partake,
but parsnips parsimonious,
and pears, for safety’s sake.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Pardon my parsnips is a fun poem. Good work.
Guess I went at least part-way off the deep end with that one! 🙂
I find that pardoning your parsnips is particularly pleasing.
Or is it paradoxical?
I like Pardon my Parsnips. I am in awe of your creative output: photos, pictures and poems.
Well, you can thank yourself then, because yours is one of the blogs I follow to get inspiration when I’m short-handed! 🙂
Ha’! A very clever poem, I loved reading it 🙂
Thanks, Red; as you can tell, I frequently give in to the deep well of goofiness in my otherwise shallow soul. 🙂
Love both poems – and am particularly partial to parsnips myself…
The Market at Limoge really drew me in, though. My first thought was,”Strausbourg?” Have yet to visit Limoge, but it’s now on the list!
*I* still have to put Limoges on my list too! This painting was cobbled together from a number of other people’s photographs of the Limoges marketplace because I had a commission for a series of artworks to ‘fill in the blanks’ for a visual accompaniment to a performance of Mussorgsky’s ‘Pictures at an Exhibition’, and the needed pieces included the aforementioned locale. So one day I’ll have to go over and find out whether there’s any versimilitude at all! So far I’ve only been to Paris and Dijon, and those about a million years ago.
As for the parsnips, now I’m hungry for ’em, so I suppose I’d better find some nice roots to cook up!
Always glad when the writings are enjoyed! Thank you, Marie!
Such fun to read! Enjoyed them both.
O Bardic One, I do appreciate it!
I think they are two lovely poems, but I am not sure which one is my favourite. Liked them both. And the illustrations are beautiful.
Thank you very much, Otto! I shall have to work some more on watercolor one of these days–something I hardly ever try.
Brilliant 🙂
You are so generous, sir!
So cool, Kathryn, and so much fun! 😀 Love those pears!
wow ^_^ I’m inspired to read this…. and the artwork, it was great ^_^