words writ on water

All of us know of love, Many of us claim to be in it. The true meaning of that Emotion is obscure. To feel the beating heart Inside a lover’s chest, To place your hand on it And listen to its song. All those moments of joy, That seems to be a dream, And the fear of waking up To the gray reality. To know of suffering That comes only once, One that makes you let go Of what you treasure most. Erratic messages that go To the heart’s core And bring doubts of Insanity, or die within. To be a light, a spark That warms from within. And finding the truth In another’s eyes. A mystery of all life, The driving force of Everything living. The last thought.

I held her in my arms That squirming little bundle of joy. She smiled once or twice Dreaming her sweet little dreams. A day or two old, no more But she warmed my hands so. Eyes closed to the world Still so pure, so full of life. I waited and waited For her to look at me once. I cooed and warbled But she didn’t listen, my baby. Wrapped up in a monkey suit, One too big for that tiny thing I felt her tiny heart beating And I knew that I loved her.

Just something I drew up for my mum's party with her group of friends. Its all freehand my children. 

Once upon a time, lived a big fat king. On his buttons was grime, it didn’t even spare his ring. his breath smelt of liqueur, which made his missus fume, And his majesty flicked her, straight out of the room. She tumbled down the hill, past sheep and other cattle, and stopped in a windmill, with the sound of a rattle. Down came the miller, with his teenaged son, who picked a sand filler, and stuck it in her bum. She sat on a barrell of liqueur Which gave her quite a turn. The pain completely left her, and she danced like a fern. A peacock stopped by then, and shook his feathers with pride, and called out to the hen, and said, “let’s take a ride”. They flew towards the ocean, as if intoxicated, and mistook the sun, for something that got them irritated. What was it, you may ask. and I wouldn’t know, but I surely had a blast, when I was high and on the go. As for the queen’s story, I think we’ve had enough. rest assured she was hunky-dory and left the mill in a huff. The king wa...