Charrons Chatter dba Karen Robiscoe--in a surprise twist!


I strum my grief,

& pluck one-liners

~riffing beats~

as I define

/ a life in leaf /

my story time. . .


in bits-so-sweet

until decline–

there never was a prelude finer–

worth a sonnet

and a shiner.


Through a reed &

with some weed,

I blow my smoke

in piping. . .

oboes, flutes,

kazoos that toot

to mellow

bellowed griping. . .


My odes


My poems

come home!

My villanelles unveiling–

in measured chord

dynamic score

of trial’ing & tre’vailing. . .


For mortal wounds

the gizmo used

is full-on Philharmonic,

no poem,

but tome!

–a fiction long–


hurt to tonic. . .


As lullaby,

may I imply,

to me all words

are music,

witty, ditty

> even sh*tty <

can be pretty

when I choose it.Like Loading…


About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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