Thursday, May 29, 2014

The Lover

 

He's smiling all over my face
and his hair is black like my eyeballs,
He is the opposite of by body,
and the mirror of my soul,
He's eaten in my shadow
and tastes as delicious as honeydew.
.
His brain is always functioning,
and he doesn't lose his version,
In the dark he smiles
to make ghosts shiver,
His arms are soft pillows
that let me cry, sigh, and fly in the sky.


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Thursday, May 22, 2014

A child’s nursery rhyme involving multiplication by Baritone Jay Hudson





Mary’s five and Bea is three,
Bob is nine, that’s three times Bea.
In four more years I’ll be eleven,
That’s much better than being seven.
Granddad’s sixty I am told,
How many years till I’m that old?
Funny how mum’s age never changes,
She’s been twenty-one for ages!


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short story slam week 80, poetry potluck week 50, poetry picnic week 46, and poets rally week 80

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