September's Birth, In Beautied, As Best.

September's baby is full of heart...
They to be filled with knacks at art.

They stretch towards ways of useful way of words...
They enjoy such as beautiful sights in birds.

September is a day in our life...
Since a day of birth and searching for that one perfect mate-
whether of that one most wanted husband or wife.

September's stone is that of a Saphired in blue...
A great beauty to eyes filled with, so blue in hue.

The sign of the scales will do...
Well due.

poem by Michael Gale
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I'm So Vain And Darned Good Looking-No Time For Eating Food Or Of It's Cooking.

Mirror-mirror on the wall...
Who's fat ego is too tall?
When i view this image so great...
I'm forever tardy-when leaving, i'm always running late.
I'm hooked on my own good looks...
I've no time to read good books.
Vanity is my one only chosen vice...
Every one else is ugly-not good looking-not nice.
Every where i travel people just stare...
In my hand i carry a mirror,
What they think?
I do not care.
I kiss the mirror whenever i can...
I just happen to be, the best looking living man!

poem by Michael Gale
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A Painted House Is Like A Poem.

In a way-A house painter is like a poet...
The house painter or average person just might not know it.

A lot of cleaning, sanding and preparation of the surface takes care and time...
Compositions, editing and thought polishes the rhyme.

When finished, they both are a work of art...
A lot of sweat and work is done by the artist's own part.

In the end, a finished polished piece...
Makes the artist, happy and at peace.

The work is finally done...
What hard work, finished-Now
feelings of enjoyed fun.

poem by Michael Gale
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Is A Soccer Mom A Loser? ...For Sure! , I Betcha!

A Governor of Alaska running not far...
Tried to fire an ex-brother-in-law who drove a patrol car...

A Vice Presidentual candidate will not really rate....
What will be her status?
Perhaps a losing fate?

She is known as 'The Soccer Mom'...
Too bad for all Republicans she'll be the ultimate bomb.

I do not believe that she can win...
She abuses her power as like the ultimate-dirty sin.

Will she come away from the elections without a scratch or bruise?
Too bad for her, you betcha! ,
She'll assuredly lose.

poem by Michael Gale
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Chick Flicks, Just Won't, Get It.

You would probably have to put hot coals under my feet...
To drag my butt, into the sneak peek, of a chick flick.

I am a romantic, but spare me the gushing muck...
No such mush for me, not that mush, would I wish to see.

Not even if the admittance-were free...
Let me be, let me be.

Action is where I'm at....
Not viewing a film about a talking, baby, dog, or cat.

Comedy will move my feet...
That type of film, will be my treat.

Romantic mush...
Won't make me gush.

Only action...
Will get my feet like, attraction.

poem by Michael Gale
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A Loving Love Missed so Long Way Behind That Soggy Foggy Bog

Had i been sighted behind that mossy log...
Way down beyond that foggy bog.

Fog as thick as thickest bricked wall...
Fog goes up as far as thirty feet tall.

Feelings felt as saddened dread...
Looks of ribs protruding thru skin as skinny as thread.

I missed you much as much can be...
Come back to me for love to thee.

Many years have passed since last we met...
My heart to thee is owed a great debt.

Loving arms so parted as parted for thee...
Wedded bliss comes home for yee to be.
Love's love so heavenly.

poem by Michael Gale
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A Wet Whiskered Fishured Cat Caught Nothin' But An Empty Paw.

Tis' be fish-a fish of mine...
One that flips inside a pan o'thine.

That cat that swatted at a fish astray...
That cat had not caught a one'a fish that day.

Into the watery drink that cat did fall....
Kitty Kat-Kitty Kat is what he'd heard one call.

Inside the house he found me stearn...
But with fish in a pan he found to me to of learn.

Right off to market had i gone...
The Kitty Kat ate his share of fish b'fore fallen to
a sleep aft' last let out tired out, yawn.

Do you see? ...
Ssshhhhh!
ZZZZZZZeeee Zeee Zeee zzzz
zzzz

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Gale
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Beneath This Tear, And Ached, Grass.

This tear shaped heart, that weeps for thee...
A chamber, sad, yet, longingly.

Along the miles, that had I spent...
Along denial, that way, I went.

Along the ways, gone awry...
By my, leave, by the bye.

Oft this heart, cried a tear...
For one love, never near.

Beyond the ways, left by me...
Be this, broken heart, emptily.

Abruptly, I sped away...
Sadder, than that, dawn, spent day.

Never, I, to return back, to thee...
A fond farewell, greeted ye.

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Gale
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Isolated Crimes Of Passionate Lies.

From whence we come, from whence we came...
Knows not any failured mis-spent shame.
Who so-ever spins the web, regards all failed, b'neath darkened,
isolated tribes...
Many evil men describes many lies and deceites filtered through lies and unexscused bribes.
Greed a-plenty rains on man...
Enabling the greedy souls to scam while on the lam.
From whence we come, from whence we came...
Men not troubled of souls well wicked, proceeds unobstructed while
instilling self shame.
From whence we came, from whence we come...
Greed only amounts to the accumilated, dishonest, outcomed sum.

poem by Michael Gale
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Stormy Weather!

Stormy weather is on the horizon,
Lots of moisture is sure to make
a fast water's level to be
a risin'!
Winds and lightening, soon followed by
thunder, Golf ball sized hail stones
falling down from up yonder!
Whirlwinds of twisters travel on by,
Rooftops and debris do so fly!
Take cover as soon as possible,
behind anything low or a solid like
obsticle! Flash flood's warning is
over the tv's air, Weatherman's warnings
are all on tv, showing they care!
When the all clear signal is finally
given, All the fast heavy breathin' is
slowed down and even!

2006 Michael Jeffrey Gale

poem by Michael Gale
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