Like the changing seasons
    when you leave I fall
into the beautiful
Melancholy
of yesterday's rain
  as Red Cap
   by Louie Armstrong plays
in a dark mellow, yellow
smooth...or
rough sounding,
  yet lovely fanfareish finish
  sounds of a Witchita
lineman still
on the line
hanging on
lingering
 heavy on my mind
  reminded of
    smells down sweetened
         cigar smelling tracks
          tastes of honey & Whiskey
           forget a word said wrong
            a note not hit or played
             disregard word unsaid
            forgive a thoughtless word
            my imperfect mind
          I overheard myself
         or you saying
        as we're laying,
       playing
        in the sun
       Jazz....pizzazz
       Oh, ah...yeah,
        working
         on the chain...
          ohhh ahhhh....
         ewwwww ...waaaa...
      help me sing it
   bring it
   waaa..oooOo
  Oh yeah,
   one more time
  everybody
let me here you
better go now
you can
show me
how
  hey
    Yeah....
    Sam Cooke
      singing
        Gospel
        sayin'
       thank you
        for
          the
         beautiful
           and the
              bitter
                sweetness
                 of the
                 time we
                  shared
                  is leaving.
                




      Cherie Nolan © 2016

he was a tambourine
cling-cling-cling
competing with the guitar,
strrr...uuummm...
bass,
puuu-waaa...ssh!
and drums
BO...o...Om!

In the orchestra
he was the conductor's baton
swish-swish-swish
drowned out by the oboe
BRRR...Rooo...
cello
teener-neener-teen
violin
Neee-nah­-neee...nahnahnah-nee...

When he went solo
he was a harp
bling-bling-bling-bling...
graceful, delicate
tling-ling-ring-bling...
his strings plucked
pling-pling-pling-pling
by angels

Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)

From Princess Esther Fatouma,
The future queen of lies and deception
Dear ALLAH Elect, the most high,
Who blessed me with the powers to cheat
My luciferous pleasure to have contact with you,
Based on the pathetic and critical condition I find mine self,
Though, it's not financial problem,
But my health you might have known
That cancer is not what to talk home about,
Though I don't know you, but your are my sweet victim
And my contact with you was not by mistake,
But by the divine favour of ALLAH the maker of I the prankster

I am married to Mr. Mohamed Sule, I love him dearly,
My husband worked with Tunisia embassy in Burkina Faso
For nine years before he died in the year 2008.
We were married for eleven years without a child.
He died after a brief illness that lasted for five days.

Since his death I decided not to remarry,
When my late husband was alive
he deposited the sum of US$ 2.2m, waaa!
Two million two hundred thousand dollars,
in a bank in Ouagadougou the capital city of Burkina Faso
It is a wonder why all this sonnetic fortune,
In west Africa Presently this money is still in bank.
He made this money available, minus chains
for exportation of Gold from Burkina Faso mining.
Recently, My Doctor told me some thing new;
I am yet to visit the land of my ancestors, my husband
That I don't have much time to live because of the cancer problem,

Having known my condition,
I decided to hand you over this money
To take care of the less-privileged people,
You will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct herein
I want you to take thirty Percent of the total money for your personal use
While seventy percent of the money will go to charity
  Helping the orphanage and all those that are homeless,
And I pray that you are foolish enough to provide your bank details
You would have converted yourself in to over parented orphanage.