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 May 2015
Poetic T
Could I word it, I tried a thousand times,
What came forth was not what was
Expected. a quick removal spell was
Needed with all, they weren't life
Just words taken form.

"Abracadabra"

I tried as I must, for what are words
But power under breath, and I
breathed a lot, hands and knees greeted
The floor more times than you wish
To know. I would ponder the thoughts
And the way each part told.

"Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo"

But was it my wording, my accent playing
A part in all spells going wrong, was
It to much  to ask for just one thing to
Happen right not wrong.

"Alakazam"

So many to be said, different things to
Do, which one would work on what
I wondered or who.
"Dam this stick"
"Dam this book"
"Dam these words"
"SIGH"
I want to do this trick to make a wish come true.

"Open sesame"

And with that one word I had spelt all was
What was meant to be,
not guessing, mumbling, unrecognizable words
I had spelt it out, used thought and in that moment
All that I wanted.
"A rose for my mummy"  
Appeared in a petal of rainbow colours
That smelt like popcorn sweet not sugar mind you.
Given to her on mothers day, hi mum what do you think.
 May 2015
Johnathan locke
Got a car that is broken?
Or a board that is a croakin'?
Have a problem with a broken leg,
Or a talkative friend named Greg?

I have a solution to all your problems,
Using this will surely solve them!
No mater the problem's size or shape,
You can fix it with a little bit of duct tape!
 May 2015
Richard Riddle
Written for a school project*

September 09, 2013

To: Evan Riddle
From: Granddad

Well, I understand that you would like to have a letter from me, recognizing certain traits, and accomplishments, and so forth. Begging your pardon, I will begin in this manner.
A couple of years ago, during a"pre-game warmup" prior to the start of one of your games, I was standing behind the glass watching the pucks bounce off your chest. A young boy, perhaps a year younger, came up, stood beside me, also watching you. He then turned, yelling to a friend, "here he is, #41!"  He was quickly joined by his friend and another, all three watching you at close range.You have no idea how that made me feel. How proud of you I was, that apparently your reputation was developing among your peers within the "ice crowd."
In my home, on a wall, is a photo of you, taken during the All-Star game in Ottawa, Canada. You, wearing the red and white All-Star jersey,  standing in front of the net watching and observing the action that soon would be coming at you.
This is my favorite photo. The expression on your face silently reflects your abilities to "focus" on what you are supposed to do, the "determination" to do it, and the "perseverance" to get it done. Three traits that have followed, and stayed with you, and guided you to be successful, in all you have accomplished in both sport and academic activities in which you have participated. You are respected by your team, your coaches, your teachers, and your classmates. You can't have better than that.

Love you,
Granddad
Although this is not a poem, per se, for personal reasons I find it necessary to post. Circle photo taken during All-star game at a tournament in Ottawa, Canada, 2012. His team won 4-3 in a shoot-out.
 May 2015
Francie Lynch
When I put you
Down to sleep,
I know you'll
*** and **** and peek;
But close your eyes,
Quiet your mouth,
And be as cute
As all get out.

Sleep, my Baby
Through the night;
Fill your head
With pleasant dreams
While all is yet
As it seems.

Through the dark
And the shadows,
Wake to sunshine
Kissing meadows,
To songbird music
Sweet and mellow.

Arise, my Baby,
Walk with me
And with some help
You will see
The worldly wonders
You'll share with me.
 May 2015
Marshal Gebbie
While reading an article last night about fathers and sons, memories came flooding back to

the time I took me son out for his first pint.

Off we went to our local pub only two blocks from the cottage.

I got him a Guinness.  He didn't like it, so I drank it.

Then I got him a Kilkenny's, he didn't like that either, so I drank it.

Finally, I thought he might like some Harp Lager?   He didn't.   I drank it.

I thought maybe he'd like whiskey better than beer so we tried a Jameson's, nope!

In desperation, I had him try that rare Redbreast,Ireland's finest.   He wouldn't even smell it.

What could I do but drink it!

By the time I realized he just didn't like to drink, I was so feckin ****-faced I could hardly

push his pram back Home.
Good to laugh out loud at my delightful Irish roots.
M.
 May 2015
Lottie Charman
Please mom and dad,
My hands are small - I don't mean to spill my milk
My legs are short - please slow down so I can keep up with you
Don't slap my hands when I touch something bright and pretty - I don't understand
Please look at me when I talk to you - it lets me know you are really listening
My feelings are tender - don't nag me all day - let me make mistakes without feeling stupid
Don't expect the bed I make or the picture I draw to be perfect - just love me for trying
Remember I am a child not a small adult - sometimes I don't understand what you are saying
I love you so much - please love me just for being me - not just for the things I can do."
 May 2015
Jason Cole
I saw her standing in line fancying a magazine-
penniless as she was and buying food.
She had to use "the stamps", the mark of the poor.
She was as pretty a thing as I'd ever seen.
Her half-done hair and hand-me-down dress
were as beautiful as any model's straightway from Bloomingdale's.
Our eyes met, but I turned away...
My eyes unworthy to behold the gaze of the impoverished princess.
 Apr 2015
Sally A Bayan
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

At the threshold, or doorstep
Of a ship...a gallery,
A house...a library,
It could be a forest, or a museum,
A new school or shop, a church,
An office, a factory,
On entering a new city, or country,
Take a bucket, or two
It's all up to you
There are lots of new stuff to learn,
Leave eyes, ears wide open
Be free to explore...don't worry,
Mind is a sponge,
A lot it could absorb---it is eager, for
Discovery is an adventure,
It beckons,
Knowledge awaits,
Just remember---discernment is vital.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It could be a birthday bash
A wedding, a wake
A seminar,  or convention
First day of classes, new job
Or, a simple get-together
Where awakenings and enlightenment occur
Where you meet new faces, new friends
Old friends to reunite with
Maybe, someone to fall in love with
Could be somebody warm
Or cold...may be aloof
Brave...may be broken
Discernment is always vital.
When standing at the threshold of a heart,
Be more sensitive
Be more careful with your bucket
No one feels the air there, except you
No one knows what could happen
at the end of your visit
For, discovery is always an adventure
It beckons....knowledge awaits
It could build...or break a future.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::

So put your hands in your pockets
But keep the fires burning
Be thirsty for knowledge
Of poison, better beware
Keep in mind: discernment is vital
It's all up to you...for,
At every doorstep
There await buckets.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sally
--------------

­Copyright December 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Jorrah has been coloring
all day long sitting in
the grass – He brings me his
sheets of paper says he
has drawn all of his family members

On the papers are one hundred hearts
constructed with wobbly four-year-old hands
all the same color despite his
sixty-four crayons
 Apr 2015
Francie Lynch
There's a monster
In my house;
Neither el-e-phant
Or mouse.
By one o'clock
All is cool,
My wee monster's
Back in school.
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