a lá mode: A Collection of Poems in Glose Form

By T. W'ski

My buckaroo's eyes glowed with mischief, the gypsy fiddler fiddled in a mausoleum, the angel cooed by my bedside, Eiffel's joke still goes unrealized, all the buttons on her dress of indigo blue she removed, and primordial from his ball of clay slipped away. Their secrets and more are revealed in this book of poems written in glose form, sitting here waiting to delight your mind in having discovered the mysteries that have been liberated from within the mind of T. W'ski as you read his a la mode.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781684980505

Book preview

Introduction

The glose form of poetry is a superficially freer form of the deviant rondeau redouble and derives from other than the usual French sources. It is found mainly in Spanish and Portuguese verse, but happens to flow nicely from my storytelling mind.

The only for-certain lines of this form are the sixth, ninth, and tenth, which rhyme in all the forms. The rest of the rhyme scheme differs with the form’s different users.

Adapted from The Complete Rhyming Dictionary

by Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

In this book of poetry, the glose form used is

1a, 2b, 1c, 2d

3, 4, 3, 3, 4, 1, 4, 4, 1, 1a

5, 6, 5, 5, 6, 2, 6, 6, 2, 2b

7, 8, 7, 7, 8, 1, 8, 8, 1, 1c

9, 10, 9, 9, 10, 2, 10, 10, 2, 2d

Buttons of Indigo

Quietly my hands slipped inside her dress,

senses on fire, begging for more,

we collapsed on the bed not to play chess,

the buttons cut from her dress of indigo blue to have for evermore.

The top button buttoned on her dress of indigo blue,

was buttoned just above her navel’s crest to scintillate,

revealing tan breasts with a turtle tattoo,

nipples hidden behind the cloth of indigo blue.

She waved to me as I entered the gate,

turned and walked toward me, my olive-skinned princess.

The flowery lane that led to her door I easily navigate,

their scent enlivens my senses, endorphins do activate.

Bare-footed she stepped to me, close in a press.

Quietly my hands slipped inside her dress.

Continued

Around her waist my arms encircled, I daresay,

holding me tight her arms ’round my neck enfold.

She kissed me hot, there in the walkway,

the two buttons still buttoned, unbuttoned with my hand’s downplay.

Her arm slipped down behind my back her fingers ahold

we walked to the house, hormones in a roar.

With my arm inside, her dress pulled back, controlled,

bare breast pressing against my threshold.

Up the steps, in through the door,

senses on fire, begging for more.

Continued

There on the sill of the wide-open front doorway,

placing my arms inside her dress, I’m prime.

Arms raised to her back, her shoulders gave sway,

allowing her dress to slip down, on the floor there to lay.

Stepping from it, she took hold of my hand, playtime.

Two bodies on fire, a lover’s process.

Unbuttoned my shirt, two at a time,

her lips grazing down with the widening crime.

Loosened my belt, unzippered my pants, there I stood in complete undress.

we collapsed on the bed not to play chess.

Continued

Into my arms she slithered, her face a wicked smile.

I kissed her shoulders, neck, ears, and eyes using my mojo.

Embracing we danced through the tempo of time, freestyle,

in the shadows of stars encompassing the night without denial.

We lit up the morning, one sun all aglow,

kissing my eyes, she said, One more encore.

After I rose, dressed, she took me in tow

toward her front door, naked she led stopping often, going slow,

slipping into the pocket of her gigolo something not bought from the dime-store,

the buttons cut from her dress of indigo blue to have for evermore.

In Moonlit Meadows

Behind the mountains, laid low out of sight,

acting peculiar, not moving around,

now rises, casting its glow over this meadow’s night,

airing no hint of a fairy flute’s notes in its background.

The day its light outgrew,

and into the mountains did leak.

This night’s air presented a new