Villanelle

Bug Bitten

The bite may sting, swell, or itch;

somehow that tiny insect always leaves its mark.

The bug gets away every time.

My worst bug bite caused me to twitch.

I could not see this bug coming, for I was in the dark.

The bite may sting swell or itch;

like the horrendous bite I received while I was in a ditch.

The pain felt like I had been bitten by a small shark.

The bug gets away every time.

Many bug bites cause one's skin color to switch.

The bite could be pink, yellow, or leave a scar quite dark.

The bite may sting, swell, or itch;

Scientists researching bites can become rich;

I know a doctor working with mosquitos, Dr. Clark.

The bug gets away every time.

I hate all bugs, especially if their buzzing is a high pitch;

especially when it is just you and the bug, in a room so stark.

The bite may sting, swell, or itch;

the bug gets away every time.

Found Poem

A man took a taxi to the fortune teller under 

a luminous moon. He was searching for someone or

something to recover his love life. He was tired of the

one man show. He decided the time had come to find

his pink diamond, his peach parfait, someone to share a 

heartbeat with, and tie his ship up at her pearl harbor.

He strutted up to the door, the night was ferrari black. 

She hurried him in the house, her red, sequin slippers

scurrying like racing rubies.  She stated her name 

and said she didn't have much time. The man cut to the

chase, said he was tired of all the jazz. He said he

was ready to trade his wild thing past for his sterling

silver rose. She immediately responded with a confident

"yes," and said she could feel something great on the horizon. 

Setting up Romeo with Juliet was her expertise,

and she could surely get his love life in motion. 

She got up swiftly, and excused herself momentarily.  

She yelled from behind the wall, "this place is practically a chapel of love."

He was pondering his life in the future when she returned

with a large crystal ball. The ball was truly magical; it

never told a lie. The images in the rose quartz always gave the answer. 

Without further delay, the woman began the process. 

She rinsed her hands in a bowl of coolwater and cradled 

the ball with intense concentration. 

There was a blinding flash of fuschia which startled the two.

After regaining their vision, the woman gazed into the ball.

It was still changing, the color settled on blue.  The man, confused,

asked "What is it?" She was shocked to concede, "It's me and you."