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Capture the moment – Promote Yourself

snow12345678

Snow on the hilltops
All night and day
There was snow
And the whiteness turned
In some places
With long steps
Tired steps
Of someone
Carrying
The burden of his life

Besides warm clothing
And some worn out shoes
Socks those were fuming
For the wet sock
Why not seek love in hills
Covered with snow

Why a beloved is not born here
And why there is not
A mad man of the snows
Snow is not as cold
There is intense heat inside
And the beloveds of the snow
Let’s sing for them tonight
Let’s tell them to lit heavy fire
Let those chimneys emit smoke
Smoke the symbol of hope

And the fire burning
The smell of baking food
And the sweetness of the beloved’s
Warmth
Let us invent a story of love
As the hills covered with snow
And the pine trees carrying the weight of snow
Bent down

And the distant houses
All covered with a thick white blanket
Sleeping
And some young girls
Making breads and hot tea for the loved ones
In the early morning
As more snow
Rains from the skies 

Sadiqullah Khan
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A New Broom

 

brush

Two brooms where wed
And when “I do’s” were said
The lady broom disclosed
The reason for her clothes
Of generous flatter
And the fact of the matter.
A little broom was on its way
Oh what a happy day
But he was not so happy
With expecting a little chappie
This just wasn’t fair
As he hadn’t swept with her

Paul Curtis

Nicky Nacky Noos -Promote yourself

inside airing cupboard

It’s amazing what appeared
When the cupboard was cleared;
There were pants by the score
From behind the old door.
The tank was needed no more
And we saw, left on that floor,
Six pairs of bloomers
(in fact there were rumours
they could be antique
until we did peek
“Hardly La Senza!”).
One pair were men’s – a
Little ancient… (y-fronted)
The suggestion affronted
Him who we said may, back in the day
No longer,
YES LONGER.
“I wear boxers!” The shame
That he felt when his name
Was linked with these old,
OLD pants that had rolled
Off the tank in the gloom
Where there wasn’t the room
To see them again
Until now!

 

© Helen Jane Merritt 2013

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