Penelope Solves Jennifer
A Silly Sonnet
By Izzy Sommers
Penelope had solved the mystery
Of Jennifer’s phlegmatic style as she
Observed her in the mirror with her hand
Inside her blouse messaging with élan
Her turgid nipple as it pushed against
Her silken blouse. She heard her moaning, “Ernst,
I wish you were beside me now and hard
Enough to penetrate my honey pot
And bring me ecstasy and love and want
To do it in the presence of Ms. Pen,
Who’s standing just outside this bathroom door!”
Penelope was startled but sanguine
Enough to turn and smile at Jennifer
Whose back was straighter than a conifer.
THE END
©Izzy Sommers
While waiting for Jill
The Tale of Two Georges
AKA The Tail of Two Bushes
A Silly Sonnet
By Izzy Sommers
The tale of Georges Double U and dad
Whose name was George, Aitch Bush, instead of U:
The elder George completely understood
The world of politics and oil and cash
And reputation. Double U, inept
And apt to run a company aground
Because of budgetary blunders and
Pernicious judgments making losses great,
Predictable, anticipated and
With grand and foolish gestures would defer
To Herbert or his Veep, Lord Cheney, who,
With verve, aggressiveness and foxy wile,
Contrived to alternate the tiles in town
To summon forth a splendid evening gown.
THE END
©Izzy Sommers
While waiting for Jill
The Voice Upside My Head
AKA “THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT”
A Not So Silly Sonnet
By Izzy Sommers
The forceful voice upside my head would fade
When I am almost dead, but still be heard
Until my heart and lungs were really still
And I, my brain and flesh would start to turn
To dirt. I’d guess the voice would still defy
Established laws and regulations as
It had for 80 some odd years. Suppose
There was an afterlife as said by Shirl
MacLean, wherein rebirth occurs. She said,
“We all come back in spirit to live out
Another life more perfect than the last.
It makes no sense to me because my life,
As is, is perfect. And it’s true of you
As well. It’s just as Gump foretold. Adieu.
THE END
©Izzy Sommers
While waiting for Jill
Dear folks,
These sonnets were written yesterday afternoon while waiting for a friend to try and make arrangements for a lift home. Eventually, she called and asked if I would pick her up after her physiotherapy and give her a lift home. She was not well, having bronchitis and muscle stiffness possibly secondary to the bug floating around. By the time we got her home, she was ready for some hot tea and chicken soup and possibly calling the doctor for evaluation and possible antibiotic therapy to treat or prevent pneumonia. She wasn't better earlier today. I wish her well and to get well soon, with, or without, medical consultation. I had wanted her to read these sonnets because her feedback is always superior to most. I guess, it'll have to wait.
Izzy.
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