A thing of beauty will forever remain elusive in its exclusivity.
A laughter that rings the sweetest of melody
Like a symphony echoing on the mountain top
With an engaging smile spreading ray of light
Its golden halo stretching miles apart
And as hopeful admirers keep wishing for more
She vanishes as quickly as she appears.
Dear Mojo, please come out of your hiding place. I promise to be more attentive and not getting sidetracked by life.
My mojo’s gone missing,
I wonder where she’s been,
Spending my time looking,
But she’s nowhere to be seen.
She loves hiding in my car,
Cruising happily on the highway,
Doesn’t matter near or far,
We enjoy each other anyway.
Hopefully she’ll come back soon,
I’m missing her very much,
She lights the darkness like the moon,
My life is dull without her touch.
a poem is like a super short story
There’s a tiny closet, jam packed from floor to ceiling, with assorted boxes of every sizes, haphazardly stacked, precariously standing, that’ll topple at a touch.
Inside a hat box, lives a doll, forever waiting for prince charming, he hasn’t been there, he’s unaware of it, would anyone know, a doll that needs rescuing?
She often dreams of the day, of seeing her prince, to be set free, to live amongst the living, no more feeling lonely, with her knight by her side, the path seems bright, everything sparkles, even the rain feels right.
The doll continues to dream, she’s full of hope, but life carries a different story, one that it doesn’t show.
Inside a hat box lives a doll, she’s been there for years, a disfigured face with a beautiful soul, her body’s broken but her heart’s full of hope, no bitterness, no regret, not an ounce of hatred for the person who broke her.
Naturally nature’s natural nature.
Death by nature.
A poem. Can life be like a fairy tale?
Do you believe in fairy tales
Where dreams do come true
And good guys always win the race
And live happily ever after too
Fluffy cotton candy clouds
Showering gum drops down below
On a fancy castle or a gingerbread house
Sets on a valley of green meadow
Fairy dusts and magic spells
Sprinkled paths of magical quest
Possibilities aplenty in this hopeful land
But reality got to take a rest.
Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier to have one child in the family. But one is a lonely number and two or three are far too many. So four and more?
Three would do
Four should be more
Loud chaotic days
Messy home endless laundry
Rules get ignored
Deafening screams contagious laughter
Beware troubles brewing
Catastrophe about to begin
Equally troublesome as
Terrible 3 & Snappy 7
Already I’m floored
Four too many, no?