Apocalyptic pockets, emptying their sorrow,
Careful pockets filled with love abound.
Selfless pockets, astounding,
Pockets, fragile pockets.
Hiding indoors, make not a sound.
Advice falling on ears that hear now.
No street walking.
Stay out of the shop.
Reduction in numbers soon,
Maybe tomorrow,
Or the day after.
These darkened moments will stop.
They must,
Fill up your metaphoric pockets, with unreal angel dust.
As only you must!
(C)LIVVI

The wind is tapping my window.
With fingers almost breaking through.
Put my fingers on the pane.
Leaves finger dabs in situ.
This wind's a violent *******.
Trying to beat it's way indoors.
When it should really reside outside.

It's rattling and cackling,
Liken to a wailing witch.
This foul weather such a *****.
The trains are cancelled.
Nearly blowing over.
Bus wobbled like a top.
If this wind it not stop.
Think I'll find my house in Oz.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

White wings etched upon dark skies.
No moon nor stars in view.
Bluebells foliage of waxy verdant green.
Flowers, sleeping flowers still remain unseen.
And so she stood, tall and proud waiting for the queen to come.
So the chill wind of winter disheartened the birds.
The moon cried tears of disgrace.
Man in the moon.
Is really a woman with a ***** face.
She's gazing at stars as they pass by in cars.
And the street lights reflect her deepest regret.
It's making her sick.
The chill is inside.
Cold to the core.
(C)LIVVI

Bitter be thine acid tears.
They burn.
Painfully those tears fall.
Thine breath be stifled.
Thy love may be immeasurable.
Mine eyes are pouring rainbows.
They trickle down my nose.
Mine heart so soft, so gentle once.
Was property of yours
Give it back to me.

Should  wild horses pick me up.
Carry me back to you.
May commonsense  inside my soul, grow perfect wings, and fly away.
Could have loved you forever, in the land of never ever.

(c)LIVVI

He came and stole my heart away, with savage blade removed it,

Let the blood flow crisp and clean...til it was expended,

Stuffed in trench coat, ebony black...,

Now guess what I need it back,

Said he popped it in a box of silk,

Gave it to post master of black arts...,

Who had a major issue,

Was always losing maidens hearts....,

My friend said he had mailed it,

As a normal male would,

Red bloodied I knew,.....!

He'd kept it locked up at his place,

So he could true rely, again...!

On catching his fair maiden's eye, the next time she flew by!

Knew next time he saw her she's give him love anew, but all the time he kept her heart,

It left her feeling blue.

As sparkling harbour deep, rippling far inside. he keeps it.!

Cos, in his heart , although denied,

Wanted her love not to drift on tide....

Left words barely spoken,

Pray, now!

Let us renew our love!

I say, let us pray!

Livvi Kent 19/04/2013.

Come as you are.
Dressed in naked.
Hair tumbling around your pretty neck.
Eyes sparkle summer sunlight.
Passion trending.
Highest fashion.
You wear it so well
Swelling to bursting.
Gentile tender dreamy love.
Proud as a peacock, dressed in raw leather.
You and I.
One for together.
You bathe me in the morning.
Purely in love.
As I am yawning,
I am coming alive to thrive in your arms.
An amulet.
Jewel among men.
A treasure made of the purest gold.
You are a fine wine with a fruity taste.
Inside and outside a game of disgrace.
Heart and soul entranced, every moment holding on with touches of ever.
In love we dance.
We are the stylus on the gramophone that plays the finest sound.
The quality of diamonds found in the darkest mines.
We two together as one.
Lighting dark nights with our own electricity.
(c)Livvi

DEVOLUTION

The yes's and no's are brewing a scrap,
Are Scotland and England becoming single?
Or will the two continue to mingle?
There's political bickering,
Arguing speakers,
all putting there point.
So will it be yes or will it be know,
Only a few brief days till we all know!
I can't throw in any opinions,
for, I have not got a clue.
Pray let the wonderful Scots folk,
decide what they're going to do.
I need to investigate the implications,
upon the division of one, maybe two great nations!
(C) Livvi

Space!

Not wanting to live in anyone's pocket.
Conjurer provided promise of better days to come.
In discrete indulgences
No promontories of feeling.
Drowning in the sea.
My sea is full to brim of dreams.
Overflowing fast.
So wanting to get in.
Battering doors down.
Desperate to get in
Laying down and screaming.
Kicking at the dust.
The kerb-stones blow up in my face
Screaming of insincerity.
Hell I'm no disgrace.
I don't want you to go said he.
Me neither I said.
My phony smile in place.
Both knew it had to be.
Wanted him.
He wanted me too.
Far to much to ****** bear.
This bear's grizzly.
Keeps sobbing like a baby girl.
****** silly cow!
When you find one for whom so much you care.
Two of a kind.
For definite.
Unending delight.
Infinite love in darkness of night!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

It's half past twelve.
You look up at me like an innocent child.
Doleful like you'd just been scolded.
You had, I just told you off.
Big eyes looking up at me.
You tickled me with your tongue.
Accidentally caught me with your tooth.
Maybe it was delivered deliberately.
A subtle hint to go out with you.
I say "walkies," you jump up like a loony.
Your hint worked perfectly.
(c)Livvi

Poetry is a blessing from a husband to a wife.
Words between two lovers  that are sparkling with life.
Poetry is love that speaks unspoken words.
It's feelings flow as streams do flow.
So slowly to the sea.
Poetry is freedom from all wars lost and won.
And  setting suns.
That rise again to warm the world.
To charm the old and young alike.
Inviting flowers and April showers.
Spaghetti strings and angel wings.
Ballerinas, hippy chicks.
Broken words and pick up sticks.
Triangles and perfect squares.
Missing words and no one cares.
(c)LIVVI

Warming Up!

She speaks to thee in words,
Not of spoken type,
She talks to thee in poetry,
Then you come to dance with me,
A blend of vexations mischief mixed,
The black heart is being fixed,

Slow puncture so deflated,
Very slowly trickles out,
The blood runs warm,
Although her heart is cold,
Sour blood dissolved through water's edge,

In a dizziness of fashion,
Her life is full with passion rich,
Magic from two crazy pens,
When you and she will meet again,
To write of nature, love and pain!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

In the last chance saloon, thou didst reach for the moon.
Caught it,
Sat it in an egg-cup.
While  everyone waited to crack up its head.

The moon his name was Edward,
Continued moving forward.
The moon met up with the light of the sun.
The light of the sun was served with a bun.
And a pint of the Bishops favourite tipple.

The yolk of the moon, it was somewhat lumpy.
Having his head smashed in made him so grumpy.
The corner shop sold him some scrumpy.
Left him in a tizzy.
As the pull of the tide left him soggy and dizzy.
He huffed and he puffed and he moved away.
Bringing on time at the eve of  the day.
He never appreciated the gravity of  the situation.
Getting caught by stupid and ladies and girls.
Still the sun shines and so the moon whirls.
(c) Livvi

Finally I found true love.
It has been a long time coming.
My heart is bubbling.
Finally bubbling only for me.

The sighs have stopped.
The cries deceased.
For only one sweet person matters.
Finally the healing me.

For I am the one who loves.
Loves with all my heart and soul.
I finally found myself.

I want no rampant crazy drunks.
No crazy dudes,
Who words abuse.
Or delight.
For now as a poet.
I do write.
She who writes weird words.
Sometimes clever.
Sometimes absurd.
Words from the crazy poetic bird.
Who no longer wants to pull all worms!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Happiness comes carried upon desert winds.
Happiness is to bathe and relax in life's oasis.
So still, so calm.
As ships in the desert make friendships, as daytime hours pass.
Joy is a passing swarm of bees, pollinating planet Earth.
Happiness is heavenly.
Inhaling fresh air at bedtime.
Before resting upon a soft pillow.
Scented with essence of springtime breeze.
Cruising into a sunset.
When dreams drift in and daylight left.
(c)LIVVI

Hello.
nice meeting you,
I am miss (stephani),i like your profile on hellopoetry.com/.please reply me at([email protected])i have much more to discuss with you.thanks
and remain blessed.
stephani.

I don't want a smoker, nor do I want a drinker.
I do want full on passion, with another free thinker.
I don't want my fire extinguished, by the one who fights fire with fire.
I'm burning inside, don't put me out.
I don't want to save him, nor to be saved.
Ipsofacto.
And so that zany poet raved!
(c) Livvi

Scratch,
Screech,
The sound of the knife as it's scraping,
across the plate.
The diner on the other side of the room.
He's not in control of his knife, fork and spoon.

Outside the bar,
In the smoking area,
on the side of the plates left sitting there,
the butts of the smoker,
the drinkers don't care,
,stepped out of the bar cause they're needing a smoke,
no joke,
discard their tag butts anywhere,
Do you know what they really don't care!

Jingle jangle,
Beep beep ring,
you're eating your meal,
someones phone rings,
never quiet and discreet.
If you really wanna chat,
get together to meet and greet.
Let everyone sit down and eat!
(C) Livvi

As granite stands with sullen face.
As shall she beat with loves embrace.
As garlands tangled through her hair.
Twisted quaint and beautiful.
All diamond spangles bought to bare.
Upon a cushion, resting there.
As a marigolds unfolding petals, flutter slowly to the deck.
Where hen and **** birds, doth respect each others humble point of view.
That love before thy ne'er knew.
As bumblebees and butterflies, between them ever fertilise.
As strength grows more each day be passed.
In hope we pray thy love shall last.
Eternal as that granite mound, as love in thine iced heart be found.
Thine heart be ever truly frozen, granite set immovable,
Set in stone.
The cold heart of the lonely one.
(c)LIVVI

Walking through rainbows.
Chasing the evasive sun.
Splendour of it's thrilling skyward grin.
Tumbling up and down again.
As if an archangel of light.
Spectral aura.
Teeth sparkling as raindrops depart.
Beautiful rainbow, you've stolen my heart.
In the glint of an eye.
Light tricks and rainbows.
Say quickly goodbye.
Been and gone.
In the blink of an eye.
LIVVI

Thirsting for lost childhood.
Oh to play on a bicycle with stabilizers.
Hung on to by a daddy who pretended he cared.
To stick stamps in an album, with such tender care.
To create towns full of plastic houses complete with minute plastic men.
Without responsibilities.
Plastic kids and Barbie dolls, are buckets much less hassle
To squabble with a brother, with whom you squabble still.

To have no dependents, my goodness what a dream.
It was no dream.
Not the slightest hint of fantasy.
I have more, so much more.
They may have  depended on me for years, but now when the chips are down.
They lifted and supported me through all life's peaks and troughs.
They are closer to me than I ever thought they would be.
Nowadays I'm glad to say I'm not that little kid!
(C) Livvi

Velvet box with nothing in.
A saffron hat without a pin.
Pair of shoes that want to win.
An umbrella that turns inside out.
Caught by a gale.
Scream and shouts at broken brolly.
Woman in high heels looks like a dolly.
Way she's walking, looks like a wally.
Irritating like a spot.
A spot that's becoming an irate boil.
Wants your fella.
The poet can tell you.
And she's going to tell her.
Not a chance unless hell freezes over.
No way in hell is she losing her lover.
(c)Livvi

I swear the clock struck 13
Horses frolicking happily in the paddock.
Drove up past Bolton's bench
In the forest old, but renowned as new.
On the crest of the hill a herd of wild ones stood.
Grazing in freedomas they stood in the open air.
Grey and grubby they were.
Maybe they needed a shower.
They got one anyway.
The sky exploded.
All hail the ponies.
Standing still as the raindrops fell.
The forest village swam by with people of all persuasions, in boy scout gear and boys brigade with bugles and banners,
Marching past, saluting the soldiers as they passed.
Young and old amassed.
All in the name of the crown.
(C) Livvi

I am lonely, but only for you.
The winter winds caught me and gave me a blast.
Sweet lover.
Spent summer days of glory laying in your arms.
Summer breeze blew me away.
Angel wings caught me.
Got me wrapped up so tight.
Mourning you and the times we shared.
My mourning tears fell this Saturday night.
More close than close could ever be.
I love you and you miss me.
What scares you so.

The word written in the letter was contemplate.
Means no way am I going to relocate.
Two lonely souls.
Trapped together apart.
Neither waiting for handouts.
Never will.
I battled hard to find you.
Release is not sweet.
My honourable dagger.
Placed before your mighty sword.

Autumn's here now.
It's not Emilie.
It's not four o'clock.
I don't want to be free.
Laid on your bed.
You so tenderly said 'I don't want you to go'
Once more sensibility ruled.
She decreed I had to go
Glory to you, Glory to me...Glory to our Goddess our sweet lady POETRY!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Mother,
It is today,
today is the day,
that I sit and wipe my sorrow,
upon my wet shirt sleeves,

I lost you one year ago,
Somehow,
It snatched you away from me.

Mother,
you left me,
once, you were beauty personified,
well in my eyes you were,
but, a vicious monster damaged you,
you never saw it coming,
you never saw it's sword of destruction,
it killed you in the end,

Oh mio dolce mummia,
I miss you,
And tonight,
as I cry for your lost soul,
lost in your chalice of wine,
I know you are not here with me,
but, in my heart you are still mine,
sarete sempre

Mummia,
** ancora manchi, nel mio cuore sarà sempre
Spero che tu stai dormendo bene

(C) Livvi

Once he was an opal.
A talisman of written word.
He was so unlucky.
As opals shine in white.
A slice of alabaster.
Once upon a time, you were her lover and her master.
A master blaster.
A prodigy.
A study.
Twisted with disaster.
A master of complete deceit.
Treading hot coals with naked feet.
Fine art.
Kind heart.
Confusion wore her merits.
Painted down air force blue sleeves.
As a pair of sergeants stripes.
Inside a chamber filled with thieves.
Left behind so many wives.
Not wives really.
Lady loves, who loved him dearly.
The attraction to his disciples.
Wonderful smiles.
Turned perfection.
Worldly wiles.
A coyote.
Scavenger of distant souls.
Disinterested in reaching goals.
Howls and cries, tear filled eyes.
Emptying into old tin buckets.
Kicked over with the left foot,
Cleaned up with the right hand.
The wedding band from her left finger followed suite.
Bye bye lover.
The order of the boot.
(c)LIVVI

Women are powerful tools.
The brain of a good woman should never be abandoned.
Nor abused.
A woman is the touch paper upon the blazing torch.
Some women listen to what you desire.
Not all of course.
That would be far fetched.
Men think with their trouser contents.
Women with their brains.
Planning days in odds and sods.
The man beasts think they're demigods'.
Not all by any stretched imagination.
Most are lovely in their own way.
The natural order of coexistence.
Dictates that one and one makes two.
(C) Livvi

The dragon of chest pain with infiltrated lungs.
Sits in the corner, he's coughing again.
He's twenty two, but that means nothing.
He tugs on his roll up and coughs up some more.
He says sweet mama, my chest is so sore.
Yellow jelly coughed down the sink.
Before he takes another drink.
He turns on the tap to release all the crap, that lays on his chest.
Says it's for the best, as it only gets worse.
When trying to quit, it's the smokers curse.
He seen all the adverts about beating cancer.
As dancing with death as nicotine necromancer.
Says the cigarettes make him feel magic.
Thinking it's tragic, he thinks so too.
He can't help it, he needs to smoke.
My son is a dragon, and  hell it's no joke.
How I hate to hear him choke!
(c) Livvi

Drowning in depressive moments,
Amid wild moments of musing, while his body he's abusing,
The lady, that lady sits on the sidelines,
Watching and listening,
Still sat in a field of discontent.
Scratching  poems with her crimson pen.
His liver's not good for serving with onions,
Her pen is crimson, never scarlet,
For this lady's not a harlot.
(C) Livvi

She amended the spot of the huge fluffy rug, having just vacuumed the living room floor.
Got out her beeswax, polished the table.
Upon the wall hung, the head of the sable, she shined his eyes.
The glass eyes of the Sable, who'd been hanging up there for a number of years.
She sat in the armchair sipping her tea.

The rug had moved from it's spot.
It's wild and free.
A rap on the door.
The wrought iron knocker banged hard.
A young pretty girl, with silky blonde hair, stood on the threshold crying .
Face damp with tears.
Crying for years.

"Have you seen my daddy bear?"
The lady responded, " I'm sorry, he's dead".
The young girl in tears.
Heartbroken for years.
The rug that had moved, circumstances improved.
He barged through the door, did her dear daddy bear.
Took a firm hold of the young girl's hand.
A wink and a grin.
Off they go, a happy pair of fairy-tale features.
A rendezvous with red riding hood and the once reported big bad wolf.
An anthology of fairy-tale creatures
(c) Livvi

Of talking heads and wild nights.
Smiling faces.
Love delights.
Frightful wrecks of yesterday's tears.
Fireworks of lonesome years.
Barren in stupidity.
Indignity of trusted lies.
Let teardrops and love bites be seen.
Let the truth decide.
Printed truths in magazine.
Bathing in hazes.
Of multiple stripes.
Choices and voices,
Back bar room brawls.
Cat calls and sniggers.
Sleeping big wiggers.
Sweet lady giggles.
Daring to dream.
Dreaming to scheme.
Everything ain't as it seems .
So baby we sigh and we die as we cry, loves unstable
Fruitless discussions of nothing in particular.
Chucked around the kitchen table.
Sat on his bed, her head's adjusted Saturday's tear ridden puddle.
(c) Livvi

Me, Myself, I!

Me,
I have no English Degree,
That's why my writes are scatty,
My grammar is appalling,
Tragically punctuation lacks,
Swallowed a dictionary,
Ate it for me tea,
Thesaurus is the baby,
Cos getting my words in context bothers me,
Still I love to write,
Sometimes morning noon and night,
My structuring of poetry,
Leaves tons to be desired,
Still I find my poetry keeps my heart on fire!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Broken!

I wandered lonely as a cloud,
Not very happy,
Nor very proud,
I trashed all of those flaming daffodils
Chucked them all,
Around the hills,
All their bulbs dug up,
Uprooted.

Saw you standing there,
Ignoring me again,
Kicked me in the teeth,
Once more,
Sent me to realms,

You fed my pain,
Dances crazy in diamond rain,
Amused,
While waiting for my tea,
I needed you to feed me,

Thinking why in hell,
There is no chance for me,
Fool of soul mate,
Cannot see,
Mixed in bits,
Stays in fear,
Of never getting fixed!

Can't move in,
Through tight locked gates,
For fear of getting stuck,
In a flaming new romance,

Where blooms potential shines,
Little chance,
For two delightful Soul mates,
Who can only dance,
In moonlights lustre,
As she Spreads despair,
Declares,
True love is killed,
Stone dead!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

His heart bleeds,
there's a tiny hole in it,
she drilled it,
she stole his whole away,
she stole his all,
as he  had stolen hers,
with a crystal bit she twisted it,
it sparkled in the streetlight,
she could smell the burning at every the twist of the bit,
like hair burning,
as the bit took on the role of diathermy,
she didn't make a mess,
it was cold outside,
inside his errant heart just dripped,
feeling the heat,
but,
silently internally,
her one true love died.
(C) Livvi

The irony of Christmas time.
Let us not forget.
When Christmas bells are ringing out.
Tis not the sound of pealing bells.
The sound of cash the tinkles.
In retail tills.
Electric stars that twinkle.
No oranges or bags of nuts in your Christmas sack.
No turning back!
The angels they all chorus.
Don't know what went on.
Bring back tradition of Ex-mas long since gone!
(c) Livvi 02/12/2013

As this year slows down to die.
End of the passing year.
She sits and thinks.
It falters and fades.
Becomes but a misty memory.
Will it be forgotten.
That she truly doubts.

Last year smashed her head in.
With a hammer of words
A year in love, which kept her so keen.
Was left as wreckage by one who was mean.

He was not mean.
Understood words but chose to ignore.
Sensibility screamed at her to give up.
While emotions yelled back not a chance.
We whisper words of nothing much.
Stars on a superficial chat show.
The girl and boy they must let go!
___________________­__

But,
There are pluses in place.
At the end of a year filled with disgrace and sorrow.
Made friends with her children after causing distress.
Maybe between them a brand new tomorrow.
She still goes to work.
In a world she don't like.
There's got to be more in this world.
This place where she's stranded.
Fed with waiting for things to occur.
Need to find without seeking.
Her own gold and myrrh.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

You are my night, you are my day,
Since you danced into my world, such magic's taken place,
Guess what honey, you stole my heart away,
Music plays before my eyes when you're dancing close to me.
You, Ellen are my sonata in the moonlight, a rap on the streets,
You are a pure love song, that's written just for me,
The jitterbug, I feel when you walk into my room,
It means the world to me,
My friend from your love, I never want to be free!
A love song's stuck inside my heart, don't ever set me free,
Your name, so beautiful, it echoes in my head,
Your eyes they make me smile a while,
You are a love song strung on an air guitar,
My piano plays your name, in tune,
You are the song,that I hear, when I'm drifting to sleep,
Together as a duet we walk, forever,
Ellen my friend, you mean the world to me,
When I'm not near you, I'm a sad man, singing those sad man blues!
(c) Livvi

Frankenstein's bride, she crept up the stairs.
Knows they're all watching but, just doesn't care.
Gothic by nature, she doesn't mind.

Her hair hangs black in a deadly attack.
She's looking for something that she'll never find.
She has a ***** that has become loose.
Sadly so has he.
Picked up a wrench fit for a monkey.
Frankenstein's monster is falling apart.
Twists it and turns it.
Really tight.
Sorts out her nut job.
And his.
Everything's gonna be alright!
(C) LIVVI








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Memories of times so truly spent......,
enriched my life i honour,
I was your lady, you were my lord .....,
my lord of wonder,
I still wonder about your awesome ways,
My beautiful body lost in loves' haze,
love full on...no bicycle rides or beautiful flowers.....,
Just you and I for hours and hours,
Your touch, your kiss, I will always miss,
Memories suspended for ever in space!
Caresses of lace, stroked over my face, in a manly sort of method,
Lifted me higher and higher..., stroked a fire, that could maybe get higher,
If only just stranded in dreams...,
It seems, my dear,
Maybe in reckless in fear!
My heart wrapped in liquid gold cement,
All  my silly feelings  still meant!
Why is it liquified still?,
I think I hear you  say,
Because you left my heart so warm, it melted as you went away,
Thoughts of  you leaving, well it left me grieving in a funny sort of way,
remembers your sweet loving fondly, chases the clouds away,
something  only you can do in your own very special way!
You know what my sweet,
You  still haunt my life everyday!
Copyright Livvi Kent April 2013.

Slaughtered, ripped to shreds.
A reputation repudiated.
Torn apart?
A broken heart?
In full flight, ditched the *****?
In the realms of speculation.
Plastered by the media, I fear.
Immobile in hunting,the weather changed.
The pieces perished submerge beneath those foreign seas.
And the media state the pilot rode the line of suicide, without the evidence.
Not found a body of truth, nor a box of tricks!
(C)Livvi

Tepid sun strung.
Suspended in somewhat dusky sky.
Insipid in a struggle to fly high.
Weighty in cloudy lonely skies.

Breathe in tainted cold air.
Covered in cheek nipping air.
Skin ruddy and bare.
So much warmer hiding in there.

Sun can't break.
Such problems dawning.
Fog is burning the fingers of morning.
Arrested the process of moving on.

Lifted today.
The miasma of yore.
Atmosphere left damp.
A soggy blanket so thrilled.
It's so ****** sore.

Still squeezing the the life.
From folks whose ears, are caught in it's chill.
The cold pain sliced the world,
As it bathed in ripped out rain.
Yet again!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Went to the moon on a Monday.
When the moon was full.
So I could meet the man.
To eat his cheese and hear his ******
So I could watch the lunatics.
Down upon his mother earth.
Dancing madly.
Viewed only through his noble eyes.

Went while the world slept.
Soundly in the noiseless void
The place was cold.
Lacked atmosphere.

The only satellite near.
I fancied a pint.
Was feeling rather dry.
However I was out of luck.
No-one on the moon sold beer.
He's just languishing.
Only drinking in the midnight skies.

Went to the moon on a Tuesday.
While his was just a half.
Tried to balance of the edge.
But all he did was laugh.
In darkness I did hide.
Lost somewhere went off wandering.
Walking lonely on the darker side.

Went to the moon on Wednesday.
Wednesday was wonderful.
Watched moonlight catch the sun.
In an aura,
An orange holy glow.

Went to the moon on Thursday.
Thought it would be so much fun.
Hiding in the moonlight away from midday sun.

Went to the moon on Friday.
Fancied being free.
Put my high heels on.
So I could just be me.
Kick up non-existent stones,
Have a magic float.
Gravity my missing friend.
Can never hold me down.


Went to the moon on Saturday.
Escaped the what's the matter day.
Never work on Saturday.
Danced on the moon on Sunday.
Partied on til Monday came.
Down to Earth as work's begun!



By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

She loved him so much,
He had a wonderful smile,
When she first sank her teeth in,
he tasted quite vile,
Just wished to be different once in a while,
Her style,

The merciless tall chick,
The moon in her eyes,
Dressed in black.
A cloak and dagger affair.
She flicked off her shoulders,
Her wavy black hair,

When choosing her victims,
Those she stored in a pile,
A sparkling smile,
Exercised her face,
Bloodied and battered, all of them.
She was really quite mean,
With my unpredictable pen,
Have I captured, you yet,
Captured the scene?
Of one hellish.
Hungry vampire queen!
(C)Livvi

He wanders through the darkest nights, cussing, unforgiving, but forgiven.
Unloved, resistant to the one who once raised his smile again,
Not out to steal the wild spirit from the ebony one,
Not out to snare and steal the dark,
The spirit of the one that she once loved in the city park,
On a bright summer afternoon, on a bright summer's day,
He left in body but, never went away.
Left the closet in which he was hidden,
Just for a while, a sparkle in time, the sweet lady, she gave him a reason to smile,
But, he  just sits, just pushing his pen,
Thinks of sweet woman now and then,
The threat to his liberty never forgot,
Ridden with guilt.
As his sits and hides in his warning corner,
Cuddling only his most blessed pen,
She sits in her place doing the same,
And life it goes on and on and on......
And one day,
He shall remember the one who fixed his smile,
Although she made him cry!
(C) Livvi

The red eyes matched the flags,
draped over the windows, the fences the doors,
The sniffles and snuffles,
of all those supporters,
the ones in Rio,
and all of their daughters,
the fellas in front rooms,
the girls in  the pubs,
all giving their best shots at having a blub,
feeling let down at England's loss,
A storm in a teacup,
a flood of tears,
no more chances for England for another four years.
(C) Livvi

There's a house on the hill.
It's full of ill will.

There's a witch living there.
But the towns folk don't care.

She's lived there privately.
Nobody sees the wart on her nose as it grows.
Everyone's heard of her, but nobody knows.

They don't ever see the black hair on her chin.
All petrified, none going in.

The cows in the field withhold their yield.
Stays inside their udders.
Blaming the witch but it's never revealed.

The witch finder general thinks he's a soldier.
As suspends her over the ducking pool.
All is revealed as he is a fool.

For the times have changed.
Witch finders extinct.

Believe what you like.
Witches don't turn milk sour.

Witch finders went out of fashion.
The house on the hill is still's just a myth.

Witches' name is old sister Smith.
No dangers of black magic.

No sign of a spell book.
Go visit her.

She'll set you free.
If you're very lucky she'll make you some tea.
(c)LIVVI