Bashful with a dash of humility was his favorite drink
Leaving him sated every time he partook of that sweet nectar
Under the moonless sky, he would go out for a pint or two
Fortune smiled when he found a sweet young insecure thing looking for tall, pale, and handsome
Finding a dark spot to sip her vitality, he never saw the wooden stake till it was too late
Creating sagas out of pictures and words
Organized in windowed snapshots of time
Manipulating sounds silently through POW and SNIKT
It is an artform consumed by young and old
Capturing the human condition with characters who are more than that
Couldn’t stand being put in one when she was young
Objecting to the degrading idea of facing the epitome of a box
Realizing she never wanted to be inside that construct ever again
Now she does her own thing while society fiddles and burns
Energized knowing she is living her best life
Regretting that the rest of humanity decided not to follow her and stayed in the …
Know how to fly, little one?
It involves string, cloth, structure, and magic
The first three are needed to make the object
Eventually the last is provided by the young ones watching it soar
He rubbed his bald head in frustration
All his follicles had rebelled so young
It made him wonder what he did to them to make them hate him
Really they just wanted to show off his head’s perfect shape
There is only do or do not
Really everything falls in those two categories
Yoda was wise young Padawan
Purchasing the young horse was his first problem
Oh, and then there was finding a stable for it to live
Not even calculating the costs of feeding, veterinary help, and riding lessons
Yet the look on his six-year-old son’s face made it all worth it
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Young at heart, her dad tried to look cool
Only he had no chance, and she knew it
Unaware of his odds, he struck a pose in front of her friends
They burst out laughing at his ineptness
He looked crestfallen, until she clapped, then hugged him
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Cuddling her close, Derrick enjoyed her warmth
Under his light touch, she purred with pleasure
The night was young and the two of them were curled up on the couch together
Even though Derrick was allergic, he still loved his kitty
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Being all alone was hard on Mary
Losing Rachel at such a young age left a scar
Even after four years, Mary would return weekly to the grave site
Sharing her thoughts and dreams, troubles and victories
So much of her life was under that dirt
Everything just seemed so much harder
Daily though she thanked God for the chance to keep Rachel alive in her heart
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Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Wise. Witchy. Wonderful.
Story world
Never Short On Words 