Sonnet CCCII
Wine country returning to Napa and Sonoma too
Camping to teach kids about safety in their rooms
Smart Home new service for the groom
Southern Oregon’s leaf strewed Kazoo
California’s wine country is bouncing back to-do
Larger than life instaurations of the sun at noon
Super powers of skin multi-sensory to bloom
Three generations sail through the Greek taboo
Camouflage armour identity of course
Be good win big in Alaska even drunk
Suppose now it did happen would he bleed remorse?
The Hearse on the Cross-Gun Bridge with a sleeping Monk
Haulage rope mud choked bottled Carron Horse
Only circumstantial odour from a Skunk
Sonnet CCLXXXXIII
Unshed tears were not dropping in her Gin
Sad plight Golden Rule Cajole
Philosophical assertion control
Faint sent of urine on her skin
Butterflies don’t play Violin
Hand-Maids of the Moon patrol
Bristles shining wirily around the May-Pole
Seated crossed-legged smoking a Coiled Pipe in Berlin
Reign of uncouth stars plot
Shadows lay over her Blindfold
Corps rising salt white from under a Robot
Loom of the Moon’s old
Stench of his Green-Grave Gut
Augur’s rod of ash Centerfold
Sonnet CCLXXXXIV
Little pool by the rock’s music
Bold as brass delicate high jump
Soft clinging white aristocrat slump
Her very heart in a limerick
Gnawing sorrow now she is sick
Cry nicely before the Stump
Stole an arm around her rump
Impetuous fellow strength of a hick
Spit fire blue in the face clever
She tickles tint tots’ Brains
Saying an un-lady like thing to the server
Long slow kiss after the Champagne
Wisk well like white of eggs forever
She wanted his ball having won again
Sleepy Whale 485
Relinquished his post arch wine
Ten Seconds surface of her land
Contemplate suppressed grand
King Street smells of pine
Frequentative erroneously swine
Pleasures derived with literature at hand
Drank jossers silence contraband
Supervision pantomime sign
Sleepy Whale 491
Her neonist wears an Opal Ball-dress to write
Improper overtures from men
Writing on Tortoiseshells with Pens
Lines between shutters light
Frost- bound coachman arrives to night
Drawn the limit of ten
Her caves in silk hose with them
Insulting any lady’s double-envelops white
Terry Brinkman has been painting for over forty five years. Poems in Rue Scribe, Tiny Seed. Winamop, Snapdragon Journal, Poets Choice, Adelaide Magazine, Variant, the Writing Disorder, Ink Pantry, In Parentheses, Ariel Chat, New Ulster, Glove, and in Pamp-le-mousse, North Dakota Quarterly, Barzakh, Urban Arts, Wingless Dreamer, LKMNDS and Elavation.
You can find more of Terry’s work here on Ink Pantry.