My Favorite You

by Shannon Scott (C) 2015
Click To Hear Shannon Recite This Poem

So many you to choose
So many you to know
So many you to admire
So many you to grow
The you that rises so early,
to make herself all pearly
The you that breezes the city
and makes hard work look so easy
The you that decorates, stays tidy
and keeps things so straight.
The you that wears things sassy
but keeps it all so classy.
The you that creates words of feeling,
and pushes poetry’s ceiling.
The you that brushes canvas,
and gives your soul’s color new compass.
The you that senses, sees, shoots,
and gives film unimagined roots.
The you that records ever word of every song ever heard.
The you that is there, gives much care.
while others just stare.
The you that plays, nurtures & defends,
one of man’s best friends.
The you that rolls and jams,
showing of one of the world’s toughest lambs.
There are more yous in you than there are minutes in a day.
There are more yous in you than this poem can’t help to convery.
With you, one is never bored with things to say.
You make art of yourself in every possible way.
My favorite you?
How can I pick?
Me choosing a favorite is almost sick.
Maybe the best is yet to be done.
But if I must, there is just this one.
Its my pet favorite and my secret crush.
The one I caught glimpses of and made my love blush.
Now and then I could conjure it with a joke.
Or if I said something wry.
When this you came it was so revealing and unshy.
All that was kempt, came unkempt,
and it would let fly.
High walls tumbled, muscles unrumpled,
and blood filled up.
From deep inside you this beautiful sound,
began to go eruptible.
Joyous noise completion and vibration uncorruptible.
Jarring was its witness.
But seductive none the subtle
Head rearing back, eyes gleaming lightning beams.
Tears welling up
Champagne bottles shooting streams.
Cheeks filling peak for the coming shrieks.
Lips slivering long, delivery ready,
for your heart’s song.
When it sprung on the air, it surrounded me,
and spun me like a top.
But so delicious to hear I never wanted it to stop.
When I felt of its causation?
I never felt such glad sensation!
I’d done something well in your heart’s nation.
Your body in perfection.
Your soul’s music a vexation.
Your spirit in its truest,
and suddenly on vacation.
Your laugh…
You. Laughing.
This is my favorite you.

Rose Hill Runabout!

by Shannon Scott (C) 2015

(Click to Hear Shannon Read This Poem In Character)

I don’t care about anything out there!
I don’t care about the pitch fever traffic or the unkindly stares!
I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, Don’t care, Don’t care, Don’t care!
I’m happy right here where the dead people sleep!

Rose Hill is my pasture and I’m its happy sheep!
There are slopes to run & stone bridges to leap!
Wildflowers growing and grass beneath my feet feet feet!
Grave markers to read and new dead people I need to meet!

I don’t have time for you old world of the living!
You might be driven but you sure ain’t livin!
There’s no peace out there or rest for the wicked!
Stress is your game and your spirits are constricted!
You won’t be my misery and I won’t be your convicted!
Here in this place I’m one with me and stay uplifted!

What’s that you say? You say you laughing at me?
That’s okay because in here you’ll soon be.
Away from all of that out there where you ain’t free.
You just can’t see, can’t see, can’t see.

So you go about your business, hustle and dread.
I’ma roam round here awhile, where you think its dead.
Might even move in, I’m so partial to this stead.
Lie down awhile, take in the cool earth ‘neath my head.
Listen to the river roll by and the train on the tracks too.
I’m home in here with the breeze and the quiet.
Not out there with you in that life laugh riot.