Daily Prompt: Shelf

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Like treasure on your shelf

Carry thyself

You can do that yourself

Copyright © 2016 by Love Talk

All rights reserved.

This post is in response to the daily prompt: Shelf

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HAPPY WOMEN’S DAY: Woman!

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Don’t sting the most stunning girl from heaven:

Her lightface is like gold but not stone-cold:

Eyes shine like stars, stars like eyes of the sun;

Bold smiles are her styles: virtue to behold.

This is the girl, down-to-earth on this earth:

Her embrace gives life; life gives her a face;

She likes childbirth, a virtue worth her worth:

Matchless grace, not found in a marketplace;

Human, one a human calls a woman,

Mum, yes a mum, even without a child,

For in her pain, she’s still sane and human;

In her heart, she’s a sweetheart to a child;

Don’t sting her, sing for her and marry her,

She’s humane, again a stunning creature.

Copyright © 2016 by Love Talk

All rights reserved.

Daily Prompt: Longing For gravity

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Photo: Courtesy: Unsplash.com

I live in this beautiful earth,

Full of life and daily childbirth,

So unique there’s no place like it,

Even if all I do is to baby-sit.

I long for gravity, ready for a mission to mars:

A world so different from ours

Where there’re no tars and streetcars.

Although I hope I could view the stars

And light a few cigars,

Otherwise my life in mars

Will leave me with regrettable scars.

Copyright © 2016 by Love Talk

All rights reserved.

This post is in response to the daily prompt: Longing For Gravity

If I Were Her Hubby

Caucasian young couple in love walking on city street - Outdoors

If I were her hubby, I’d be lovely,

Make her my queen, her looks sixteen and clean;

I’d gild her crown, take her to town with glee,

Sing and cling to her, as seen on my screen.

If I were her hubby, I’d make her laugh,

Won’t act out of spite, despite her glitches;

Above all, love her in full, not in half,

And celebrate her birth where she chooses;

I won’t push her aside, or leave her side,

Fail to provide for her and our children,

Or torment her to dent her well-prized pride,

Even if she’s stiff, sick, thick, and barren.

In fact, in life, we will be the happiest

Until I lie still in furrows of dust.

Copyright © 2016 by P. A. Owala

All rights reserved.