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 Apr 2015
Danielle Rose
I've never felt this vital before,
as my knees shake with each step into the unknown.
A place where I am forced to grow,
standing tall with an iron backbone,
and of all the seeds that I have sown
none are comparable to the magnificence that is
just beginning to show.
The first of many poems to come about a little someone whose changing my world - my daughter or son!
 Apr 2015
Poetic T
I woke to find the world covered in white
I ran down the stairs,
Opened the door,
Running through the white ground
Sinking deep,
Lying  flat the ground beneath.
Cold,
Vivid white,
Pure,
It crunched under my weight,
I spread my arms out like wings
My feet spread
I moved them in sync
Left
to
Right
My head still,
As it sunk ever more deep
I lifted up to see what was done
A white snow angel
Pure as the snow that surrounds
I made a wish to the snow angel
Protect,
Care,
Look after
Those in this house from now,
The hours past it went to fast,
I slept a deep sleep blanketed in the dark
I woke as light pierced the room
Shoeing the darkness away.
I looked out to the ground below,
Where once there was one
Now more did appear, encircling the house
Days pasted and the white did fade,
But the angels now ice
Not melted away,
The sun shone down,
The ice did gradually faded away.
I awoke to my mothers voice
Come look my child,
Wings spread,
Angels before my eyes,
What once was white
Its shadow in green,
They heard my wish
Though the snow had gone,
They were still here there circle of wings.
Here to stay to forever protect me
And  those who live in this house,
Each year it snows.
Cold,
Vivid white,
Pure,
The angels appear,
But leave a space, for my own angel to reappear
As I lie in the crisp white ground
Surrounded by my angels all year round.
 Apr 2015
Richard Riddle
Cowboys and sidekicks,
were not the only heroes
We idolized, and ran to see
at those "Saturday picture shows."

There was "Superman, and "Batman",
and that magic word, "SHAZAM."
The "cliff-hanger" serials
we hoped would never end.

There were all types of villains-
even "space invaders"-
It was then, that I changed my mind-
to become, a "Caped Crusader."

As those Saturdays passed by-
how I wished that I could fly-
And all I needed was a cape
to soar throughout the sky.

I grabbed a towel, to make a cape,
the largest towel that I could find-
And I didn't tell anyone
what was really on my mind.

I went thru the kitchen
out the door, into the yard-
Mom thought I went out to play,
so I caught her off her guard.

A couple of the neighbor kids,
I now call my "entourage"
gathered with excitement
as I climbed, to the top of the garage.

I stood there with my legs apart-
I could feel the pulsing of my heart-
hands, braced against my hips-
then, the tightening of my lips-

I knew that somewhere in the city-
Crime was out there brewing-
and then I heard my mother's voice-
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!!!

Well, I tell you folks, there's not a tone
that can evoke such heightened fear-
And the superpowers I thought I had,
suddenly disappeared(as did the other kids)

There was screaming, and yelling-
and amidst the clamor and the din-
Neighbors, looking out their windows-
saying, "it's just that kid again."

I didn't know what she was saying-
but I'll never forget that frown,
And her words  got a little worse
when she had to help me down

Banished to the bedroom-
on my bed, with the cape that I had wore-
Contemplating what dreadful fate
my future had in store.

I heard the doorknob turning-
then dad stepped thru the door
He knew I had been crying
as my head hung toward the floor.

What I thought would happen, didn't-
as he sat down on the bed-
then with his hand he gently brushed
the top of my head.

He explained to me the difference
of what was real, and fantasy-
That those movies are adventures,
not real, just fun to go and see.

Here I am, seventy-two and still alive-
and sometimes I wonder
how I've managed to survive

On my mantle are two pictures
that make me happy, and make me sad-
for those real superheroes-
They're my mother, and my dad.

copyright: richard riddle, August 05, 2014
 Apr 2015
TigerEyes
Beyond the meadow near a wooded field
a long held mystery was revealed
                               a key...
                                       a map...
                                             a hidden door...
were all just waiting to be explored.

A small hand reaches for the key unlocking magic for a child to see...
                                      the map...
                                             the door
                                                   begin to glow
to a whispering voice...
                                      "There's more to know"
Enter
Lilith a child of nine who's convinced she's lived a million times...
Enter
Fairies            
                                       fluttering around from right to left....
                                       guiding her toward the path that's best.

An angel whispers once again...
                                       "Careful of creatures disguised as friends"
Narrator
A force,
           or -- hand,
                     began to pull her in
                                              and, soon she began to fall, and spin.

And so the journey now begins ...
                                    Lilith wakes in Faraway
                                              
a place she dreamed to go one day.

EXT. Faraway - NIGHT

FADE IN:

Narrator

Lilith see's creatures crawling everywhere
                                         they all have green eyes, and purple hair...

                                                   TO BE CONTINUED
This poem/story concept is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Krisselle S. Cosgrove April 13th, 2015

Thank you for reading. This is a creative writing exercise. I'm going to keep adding onto this story  ~ when the muse strikes.
 Apr 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
*When I saw grandma was spinning yarn at moon
Mother's lullaby was just a fairytale
The measure would not have to weigh the legs
Flew colorful kites in the sky
Had a chat with friends at idle hours
The dreams came but never went with wind
We, all friends were wandering in a fairyland
The words of the poem as the rain came
She loved to hear the poems
When romance flowed with blood
Air, flowers said Spring
When in a lazy Summer afternoon  
She stood at my door
Sitting beside me
Sang a song of future
Lost ourselves
When time moved in the forth dimension  
You and me
Sometimes Sunshine,
Sometimes Rain
Horizon spoke with Rainbows
Then dreams played with my blue Sky
And I was bright as the Evening Star
 ~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
~
if like please share, write your views and repost
 Apr 2015
Francie Lynch
Every Easter
I get the flu;
All my systems
Are shutting down;
Everything exits
Chocolate brown.
 Apr 2015
Francie Lynch
You don't bring me
Chocolate,
Stuffed stockings,
Or change
Anymore.
Three more of my saints lost.
 Apr 2015
Seán Mac Falls
Yellow are daisies
Numberless wee burning suns
All the stars that fell
 Apr 2015
Joe Cole
Just as spring is life reborn after winters chill,
I also want to be reborn
And be a child again

I want to leave this adult world, return to distant memories
Leave this hectic modern life
And be a child again

Imagine as an eight year old, no worries to sear your mind
Every day a new adventure
I want to be a child again

Who's here now to comfort me when worry tears apart my heart?
When I was young it was my mum and dad
Oh how I long to be a child again

Take me back to my childhood days, take me back to my early years
Take me back to where I long to be
*So I can be a child again
I think secretly most of us wish we could be transported back to our childhood days from time to time
 Mar 2015
Sally A Bayan
Why does it turn its head from side to side?..........


Watching from the bay window, i knew that very moment,
it was obviously up to something, a mischief at most.
it was comfortably hunched under the cool shade
of the sweetsop tree; the fuschia bougainville,
its thorny  branches  added  to the  shade.
Glaring blue-gray eyes appeared to be
basking in the sunny weather, the
yellow and pink wildflowers, its
body, hiding from the rays of
the sun, hiding 'neath the
tall, swaying  branches
of the oxygen  plant,
with its soft stems
moving weirdly
like a see-saw,
the succulent
leaves, one
by  o n e
being cut
off its stem.
It seemed sure,
as it  hit  its  nose
a g a i n s t  the  whole
bunch over and over....the
leaves, one by one, fell  softly
on the ground. Now, i know why
it turned its head, from side to side...
how surprised was i, for it gathered  the
fallen leaves to where it hid  underneath  the
sweetsop tree......for there, the leaves occupied
some space, and then i saw it lay upon the coolness
of the gathered leaves, then leant its head beside an old
empty clay ***, cold, too, i suppose.....fell asleep in comfort.
I fought the urge to lift this clever,  self-reliant  creature, take it
to my lap and cuddle it, lest it scratch me with its furry paws, glare
at me, even growl at me....instead of rubbing its  body  near  my  legs
giving me sweet meows, soft purrs, so, i left it alone while cat-napping.



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A.Bayan
Marian, another one for Lady Jane...please take a moment, lift yourself from your sorrow, read this poem, with Lady Jane  on your lap.
I hope it helps, Marian.
 Mar 2015
Sally A Bayan
Out in the backyard,
there's dashing and diving,
swooshing and smashing
tender leaves and twigs are breaking,
crisp, brittle branches are dropping
without much thudding...
on the ground...silently falling...

No more knocking from
the house lizards up the ceilings...
silenced are the cicadas by
these distinctive oral noises,
followed by what seems to be
a screeching sound...
robbing one of precious
sleeping hours...
clearly, they are heard
in every dark corner
of our stilled backyard...
to and fro they fly,
with no signs of presence in the sky
a plane in night flight
at least has light in sight....
in the dark, while soaring
they suddenly go plunging...
aiming on what ever they have laid
their sharp eyes and claws on...
an ugly scene, they create
of torn leaves and broken twigs,
revealed as daylight approaches...

in the meantime of this particular
pitch black late evening,
i am left wondering
why they are so energized...
so noisy,
these nocturnal winged mammals...
extraordinarily active,
so alive...
in the still of this cold, bat-ty night....

    (late night of April 9, 2014)



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
 Mar 2015
Sally A Bayan
...5 X 5...

Rooster prepares for early waking
content with just chicken napping
breathless: wings are powerfully flapping
each morning, weird song playing
waking us with endless crowing.


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A, Bayan
...it is just after midnight,  the neighbor's rooster, roosted on a guava branch, starts flapping its wings, gathering air and strength, for in a few hours, it would sing its morning hymn...
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