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Would nothing be guaranteed?
Can short pain be part of the journey,
when moving towards long run joy?

Although it is always safer not to go on that journey,
Unknown is the path, nothing is guaranteed...

A thousand and one are the hazards of the journey,
many are the pitfalls -
Nothing can be guaranteed...

Will each small piece of love compose to a secure jigsaw?
Didn’t we search for love in a crystal ball?
It was hidden inside,
a *******.

And the seed was very hard and
the sprout had
“very, very limited’ room to meet with treasure for all!

But the seed tried,
she whispered, but assertively,
If it was an effort;
She drops the hard shell.

Does she start moving?
Immediately the light twinkles:
the struggle with the soil, together with the stones,
dancing with the rocks.
By Angel. XJ 04/09/2019
Revised2.0
Shiv Pratap Pal Jul 2019
Jack and Keeler
Went to the Market

They bought a Peeler
And A Knife

Jack Peeled Potato
Found a Worm

Worm was Shy
Both said Good Night
Let's Cherish Childhood
Rachel Eileen Jul 2019
Faded brick streets,
Iron-colored pathway
Leading us downtown
Lilac shirt,
**** black raspberries,
Bursts of sweet, floral blueberries on my tongue
Old ladies in long dresses
with baskets full of vegetables
Saturday morning
Honey in espresso
Bluegrass in the blue grass
16, 17, 18 windows
Waving at little ones
while fathers' backs are turned
Sweet little braids and pink bows
Brown, but golden in the sun
Busy streets on market mornings
Moss-covered picnic tables
Giggling under shaded hide-aways
Breathe in the present
Sunshine shimmering through Maple trees
Beads of sweat;
rolling down water bottles and my forehead
Glass, pottery, and macrame
Herbs, microgreenery, and fruit
My mouth waters
with thoughts of sautees and soups
Robins chirp over the bustling morning crowd
The scent of fresh baked sourdough
carried by the breeze
Young, hip parents intermingling with kind, old farmers
All of us captivated with the now
sitting in a park across from saturday morning farmers market <3
cluster **** ;,)
Shiv Pratap Pal May 2019
Don't show me your Money
Don't show your Bank Balance

Don't show me your Estate
Don't show me your Power

Sorry, with all your Fortunes
You cannot Purchase Me

Because, Only items are on Sale
My body is an Item – "I Accept"

But my Soul is Not an Item
And is Not available for Sale
Everything Is Not For Sale, Hence Can't Be Purchased, Though We Live In Inside A Large Market
Shiv Pratap Pal May 2019
Jack and Jollie
Sat on a Trolley

Went on a tour
Without any food

Jack got Hungry
Jollie got Angry

They reached Market
Bought some Chocolate

Ate with Taste
Without any Haste

Stopped their tour
Came back Home

Jack said to Jollie
Chant Sweet Home
Lets Cherish Childhood...
Elizabeth May 2019
As I walked along the sidewalk I could smell the lingering flowers and summer floating toward me. The spring was coming to an end for summer was slowly approaching smelling of sunflowers and farmers markets.
Good morning everyone!
Sean Achilleos May 2019
Get to the Market

Some people take the back road
Others use the highway
Some arrive early
Some arrive late

Get the market

We all follow our own way
No persuasion
No need to jump a red light
A river will flow where it flows
Carve its own way

Get to the market

Some exhilarate
Others doddle along the way
Walk or run
You will arrive when you get there

Get to the market
Written by Sean Achilleos 03 May 2019©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Sean Achilleos' Music is available on the following platforms:
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Zywa Mar 2019
In Jerusalem

the sky merges with the trees –


in keppel kippahs.
In Dutch a kippah is called “keppel”
Colour keppel #3AB09E

Alternative version:


Blue sky and green leaves

melted in Jerusalem:


a keppel kippah.
Anna Mar 2019
I’m whirling about
There’s fruit I’ve never seen
And chainsaws
Hanging from the ceiling
Collections of rusted
And nostalgic
Remnants
Playthings of my
Past memory
The people here
Mimic the eclectic offerings
Every part of the group
Teems with
Individuality
I feel cherubic laughter
Quiver my lungs again
I head for home
Clutching a book
I acquired
From this impeccable
Trove
A wonderful friend of mine invited me to the local flea market, and I couldn’t resist writing about it
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