Keith Logan
Keith Logan
Nov 18, 2017

Beauty Is

Poem Body

Her profile’s not a perfect silhouette,
she bares no shapely leg or heaving breast;
the voice not of a nightingale coquette
enslaving countless men it has impressed.
She cannot hover like a bird in flight
nor even glide with poise across the floor;
she will not set a lusting world alight
where men are beating pathways to her door.

But she’s a lovely lady none the less,
the winning smile within her eyes one part;
a bubbly nature flowing to excess
shares love and joy that overfills her heart.

Felicitous affection thus belies
the notion--beauty's pleasing to the eyes.

About This Poem

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: United Kingdom (Scotland), GBR

Favorite Poets: Robert Burns, Robert Lewis Stevenson, Kipling., I like things childish.

More from this author

Comments

themoonman

Not overly sentimental and easy to
place one's self in the poem ...

and it's a sonnet!

Thanks for posting

Richard

Keith Logan

I just realised I posted this poem already and not even that long ago.
Please accept this substitute.

A Tipple

I like my whiskey always neat
a single malt goes down a treat.
Within my grasp, or very near
A Speyside brand will always cheer,
not to say it’s not as good
a Highland type will lift my mood.
Then again, an Island tipple
makes my taste buds smoothly ripple.

All blended whiskeys have their faults
so I will stick with purest malts.

Gunnar Hedlund

Gunnar Hedlund

7 years 5 months ago

...but no mind, liked your words.

this used to be a field of words
but, shit, it's growing lonely turds.

Keith Logan

it is a short term state. Try to find that smile, it really helps.
The happy chappy does not allow his many ailments to dampen his spirits.

Gunnar Hedlund

well done and thank you!
i only dampen mine with orange juice, no ice, by the way.

g

Keith Logan

we have the same view on spirits and their unfathomable value.

fink555

a goat named Alamagoque,
he was pretty and never sucked
a titty; in sayings he was pithy.
You see how clever the rhyme
scheme is, how good and lean
in this poem I've seamed, but
where is the substance or sheen,
where is anything but a pine,
a begging for approval, where
is the adventure or slightest departure
from rote, horrid, dimestore creaking?
But again see my goat, his name
Alamagoque, he is pretty and sucks
such a nice, full titty.