Iambic Pentameter on LHS Blog

rabbits

Wed, 01 Sep 2021 01:29:47 +0000

Ancestral lines are often hard to trace
Forebears doth stretch at times to days of yore
But rabbit incest of a rapid pace
Allows us now to honour four

Progenitors of such a sprawling brood
All in the Garden of Mt Eden born
Mayhaps they tasted a forbidden food
And from on high their sin did draw great scorn

For now these precious souls have hopped their last
Cruel verdicts made to seal them a grim fate
So now is time to fly the flags half-mast
The rabbits’ lease hath all too short a date

vacuum

Mon, 28 Jun 2021 13:16:45 +1300

Why has our Zip forsaken us so soon
Its warranty hath all too short a date
What’s in a name? AirPower sounds a boon
Misnomers flagrant as that seal its fate

In reference to the tragic and untimely death of my flat’s Zip Fusion bagless vacuum cleaner.

nightmare

Sat, 06 Mar 2021 08:44:42 +0000

The beast extends its talons and its tongue
For me the bells have surely tolled and rung
The drool has pooled about my toes and dress
With it my blood is soon to coalesce

But though my body screams with primal fear
Its jaws have not a canine front to rear
Confusion breaks the hold on life and limb
Its mouth I pluck a tooth from on a whim

It steps back shrinking down in size aghast
Its face a man’s that shatters into glass
The nightmare’s end comes with a lucid calm
I wake in peace though something’s clutched in palm

mountain

Fri, 13 Mar 2020 20:57:12 +0000

A mountain towers high above a hill
The lesser summit stays a victory still
When dawn arrives the sun is tinged with grief
One’s bed provides a measure of relief

A day with plans that once seemed only bright
Falls victim to a curse that leaves a blight
Upon your mind, will friends become estranged?
They’d rather see you well so rearrange

A shower cleanses yet its waters sting
To bathe can sometimes seem a daunting thing
So even though your hair might be a mess
It makes you no less worthy of caress

stars

Tue, 25 Feb 2020 18:44:25 +0000

A pair sights high above twin shooting stars
Brush near enough in heaven they might touch
Laid bare one suffers nil an earthly scar
Yet clear night skies do still desire much