Advice that doesn't always Work

A counsel that I’ve sometimes got,

(I think that few are dafter),

Is - you’re a woman, have a good cry,

You’ll feel better after.

You’ll see the truth of this advice

If you will only try it.

Weep your little probs away, just –

Make sure you keep it quiet.

Go weep your little probs away,  

You’ll soon be feeling chipper;

Open up and let it out –

As if we were a zipper.

Yes, sometimes I’ve been moved to tears

And sometimes moved to laughter.

And I know (don’t we all) which one

Makes me feel better after.

 Frances O'Keeffe

Fooled by the Lights

‘Twas a rush as I flashed my card.

Now the mirror at home won't hide

the clumpy, lumpy mounds of lard

and the massive backside.

A fool and her money are easily stunned

by mirrors and lights that say - score,

It’s not that I want an exchange or refund -

just to look like I did in the store.

Frances O'Keeffe 

Homage to the Villanelle

Isn’t it grand to be rhyming,

To follow the flow and the swell

Of the metre, the pitch and the timing

The cadences falling and climbing,

The syllables clear as a bell,

Isn’t it grand to be rhyming

With the ever-melodious chiming

Of  fruits from the bottomless well

Of the metre, the pitch and the timing,

That hone words with polish and priming,

Revealing their magical spell. 

Isn’t it grand to be rhyming

With language that soars to subliming

In the places where harmonies dwell

With the metre, the pitch and the timing.

Of poem-styles that harmonize well,

My favourite is the Villanelle.

Yes, it’s grand to be rhyming,

With the metre, the pitch and the timing.

Frances O’Keeffe

Night

Write a poem to the night,

To calm and quiet wed

In silvery, soft pale moonlight,

Easing cares to make them right,

Soothing every weary head,

Write a poem to the night.

Following their destined flight,

Planets of blue and dark and red

In silvery, soft pale moonlight

Follow their courses, new and bright

Through ancients orbits led.

Write a poem to the night,

Whirring a velvety, measured delight.

That was a wise one, whoever said -

(In silvery, soft pale moonlight),

- Never take tomorrow to bed,

Trust the healing hush instead,  

Write a poem to the night,

To silvery, soft pale moonlight.

Frances O’Keeffe