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Monthly Archives: December 2015

Winter’s Love – Promote Yourself

SUG

Blue grey hues fill the midnight sky
Ice and rain freeze in patches, converting the ground into solid stone
Trees stand frozen, like mythical ice gods of a bygone world
Snow falls daintily, like bits of tissue paper, white as cotton
As they kiss the ground, melting into the face of the earth

Light the fireplace! Warm the milk and cocoa!
Let’s snuggle in front of the warmth of the flames, sipping our sweet concoction
Read me a story or poem of times past: Dickens, Frost, Keats, or Yeats
Wrap me in the warmth of your arms, as we watch winter envelop us in her love

Poem by Dara Reidyr, at https://daraswriting.wordpress.com/

 

I Will… Against All The Odds

gallop

I will keep flying and singing

Despite subjugation and wings clipping

I will keep up advancement

Despite any ignoble impediment

I will keep to my principles

Despite bigotry and disapprovals

I will keep on preaching peace

Despite intolerance and violent tendencies

I will move for change and make a difference

Despite blind hatred, rage and indifference

I will keep my chin up and never give up

And enjoy freedom like riding at a gallop

© Chaouki M’kaddem

September 12th, 2014

The Thin looking Ghost

123456789One night I met a ghost.

He was looking for a friendly host. 

I said,’ You are looking very thin,

you had better come on in.’ 

‘Would you like a piece of toast?’ 

He replied, ‘I’d rather have a Sunday roast’ 

So there we sat, trying to get him fat, 

a three hundred-year-old ghost called Nat. 

We had a beer and he came over queer, 

and he quickly began to disappear. 

So that was the end of Nat; 

who never did get fat!

 
 
By Simon Icke, 

Footnote: I don’t believe in ghost but my father once said I bet our Simon will never write a poem about ghosts as he doesn’t believe in them. So after he had gone to bed I wrote this amusing little poem just for my dad. It made him smile when he read it. So this is dedicated to his memory: George R. Icke 1914-2000. Who was born in Salford & lived most of his life in Little Hulton, Salford)

 

Social mobility

 
 
I bought her a scooter
She thought it would suit her
I spoke to her suitor
He told me to shoot her
 
I purchased a shooter
He said ‘would I shoot her’?
I’d much sooner sue her
Than shoot and then slew her
 
I sold on the scooter
To Stu her lame suitor
And what of the shooter?
Inside of my shoe sir.
 
Violence and shooters
Old age and scooters
Suture
Future.
 
 
Stephen Holloway
 
• What can I say – what about sorry?  It makes me laugh out loud and I wrote it!
Seriously though – there is a message in there somewhere.

The Rain

 


The wet shiny glistening droplets
Appear like jewels

Sprinkled on the window pane
Rapping like a thousand birds saying,
‘listen to the rain’
Across the sky a formation

Of colours start to form,
Building up to a rainbow
The aftermath of storm,
Behind a distant cloud

Peeps the round globe of the sun
Sending heat drying the earth,
Also tear-like droplets are sent

flushing, like washing life’s troubles

To ground then to grate,
For that is all they are worth.

 

Sandra Cameron

The Feather – Promote Yourself

feather
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