nothing to really guess at but some of these are something to think about. try the last one if you want to try and guess on something.
in Just-in Just-
spring _____when the world is Mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles ______ far ______ and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far ______ and ______ wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
__ the
____ goat-footed
ballonMan ______ whistles
far
and
wee
e. e. cummings
Snow White and the Seven Deadly Sins Good Catholic girl, she didn't mind the cleaning.
All of her household chores, at first, were small
And hardly labors one could find demeaning.
One's duty was one's refuge, after all.
And if she had her doubts at certain moments
And once confessed them to the Father, she
Was instantly referred to texts in Romans
And Peter's First Epistle, chapter III.
Years passed. More sinful every day, the
SevenBreakfasted,grabbed their pitchforks, donned their horns
And sped to contravene the hopes of heaven,
Sowing the neighbors' lawns with tares and thorns.
She set to work.
Pride's hundred looking-glasses
Ogled her dimly, smeared with prints of lips;
Lust's magazines lay strewn--bare tits and asses
And flyers for "devices"--chains, cuffs, whips.
Gluttony's empties covered half the table,
Mingling with
Avarice's cards and chips,
And she'd been told to sew a Bill Blass label
In the green blazer
Envy'd bought at Gyp's.
She knelt to the cold master bathroom floor as
If a petitioner before the Pope,
Retrieving several pairs of
Sloth's soiled drawers,
A sweat-sock and a cake of hairy soap.
Then, as she wiped the Windex from the mirror,
She noticed, and the vision made her cry,
How much she'd grayed and paled, and how much clearer
Festered the bruise of
Wrath beneath her eye.
"No poisoned apple needed for this Princess,"
She murmured, making X's with her thumb.
A car door slammed, bringing her to her senses:
Ho-hum. Ho-hum. It's home from work we come.And she was out the window in a second,
In time to see a
Handsome Prince, of course,
Who, spying her distressed condition, beckoned
For her to mount (What else?) his snow-white horse.
Impeccably he spoke. His smile was glowing.
So debonair! So charming! And so
Male.
She took one step, reversed, and without slowing
Beat it to St. Anne's where she took the veil.
-R.S. GwynnMetaphorsI'm a riddle in nine syllables.
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.
-Sylvia Plath
Edited by Zara, 16 April 2008 - 07:18 PM.