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[ Do you love flowers? ]

Honestly speaking, I do love flowers,
not the ones I have to give showers.
I do like beautiful flower gardens and more,
not the ones I have to mow oft or to care good for.

I love to go walking every morning,
to watch all birds in the trees singing and fluttering.

Walking along emerald meadows, where diamonds do grow.
All kind of gems and flowers, according to my list, you know.

One special kind attracts my attention,
in fact I never care, but this time it was never my intention
to discover such delicate jewel, these rare flowers
a reddest colour was smiling at me lovingly, all hours.

Do I wish to turn my eyes from this flower or not,
I took paces back to be on that hottest spot.
Why does this flower attract mine attention?
since it was looking at me with such fine perfection.

Oh, you have never seen such a most wonderful plant,
this is only able, I reckon, through God's greatest grant.

This flower had such a beauty of its own, it did not pose,
a jewel of a flower, as red, as wild and most beautiful.

As a gem, a jewel of a flower, it did never pose
it is a mesmerizing wild rose most beautiful….
….most passionate.....my ardent Rose….




© Sylvia Frances Chan
Copyright protected
Sunday, the 5th of July 2015
4.30 hrs a.m. WETime.
My love, this is especially for you, I hope you will like it. With love from, Sylvia / Mijn lieve, dit is speciaal voor jou. Ik hoop dat je het leuk zal vinden, liefs van Sylvia.


as highest as the Chomolungma in Himalaya region
as magic as this Mount Everest correction
as huge as the Nightwatch of Rembrandt
as imposant as the Niagara Waterfalls when you shall land
as friendly as the Ricefields on Bali Island
as generous as the Space Needle together with Manhattan
as lovely as the puppet dolls my fiancé gave me in Jakarta
as beautiful as my wild Rose's voice when speaking about Indonesia
as wonderful as Serfaus at wintersport-season
as warm as Granada could be on Summerdays without a reason
as romantic as Venezia on dark nights
as cool as Paris sparkles in Autumnal lights
as truest as Jesus died on the cross at Calvary
my love for you so loyal as Plath's words, no fata morgana
so honest as Picasso's own Guernica
it means only most important and precious to you and to me,
this I tell to you as my only trustee and devotee.

Truest love ever known, most loyal ever shown !
I have told you all these with the help of God, amen.


Sylvia Frances Chan
© copyright protected
Sunday 9th August 2015 @ 14.30 hrs.AM.
Cool mild weather 22 C-degrees
A father will be
never the same anymore
after death of his beloved époussée
he was called daddy then and more
because he loved his daughter truly.

After death of his wife
begins the biggest strife
he feels himself no more daddy
he acts as uncle-to-be, a tragedy

daddy no more
uncle always and encore


© Sylvia Frances Chan
    Copyright Protected
If the mother dies, a father behaves as a non-father, he feels no responsibility anymore, his attitude is mere like an uncle, he does not support his daughter anymore, and also no insight from himself to support his daughter.
I beg you
don't leave the sky

when dark clouds billow in the south
the weary winged hurry home

overhead on the dead blue
jupiter and venus are born anew

the wind slows to silence
trees loom night's shadowy ghost

nocturnal birds sing on their new day
you feel your breath as they fall

the clouds spread across the sky
cracked by the lightning

a drop lands on your stretched palm
soothes all the burns in you

you melt in love
by the torrents falling from above.

don't leave for shelter
I beg you
when heaven arrives here.
 Sep 2015 fifi S
A Lopez
I was wearing a brooch
That night, with a red
Latin dress. You did not
Notice I was trying my
Best. You cared how you
Looked, didn't care for me
Though, you wanted to go
Grab a foreign drink, and
Watch a Mexican movie for
A dose. A dose of my lips
Up on top the back theatre,
If only I would have known
Your qualities were that of a
Woman beater. But I was fog
Headed, blinded by your cool
Guy seduction. Now look at me
Unhappy, dead, messed in my head
From your web of lies, the string of
Suicide now shatters my view on
Anything new and now I'm new so
I'm better off being without you.
I feel much more productive,
Gracias: monster from my old
City.
 Sep 2015 fifi S
A Lopez
Broke
 Sep 2015 fifi S
A Lopez
The time, seemed
In
R
E
V
E
R
S
E

R
       E
                W
          O
     U
N
D.

Down
Down
Down
Until I woke!
My heart at that moment when he wasn't with me,
Broke.
 Sep 2015 fifi S
A Lopez
Pendejo
 Sep 2015 fifi S
A Lopez
Smack me
You did already,
By not paying attention
To the woman you have in front of you
Pendejo!
 Sep 2015 fifi S
brandon nagley
i.

I canst not thanketh thee enough, for assuaging mine pang's
On earth, in heaven, on the dwarf planet's, in thy kiss of leaven;
When thou art down, I'll taketh thine frown, when broken, when hopeless, I shalt giveth thee mine own gladness; lifting thy smile.

ii.

In cities, in town's, aloft the skies, on the ground, in the open, in the wild, cadmium yellow floret's, mine Asian child, in thy eye's;
In thy laugh, passed the noise, of hellish mess, passed the pain's, madness and stress; I shalt always be by thy waistside, mine pet.

iii.

In ourn life, and beyond ourn death's, we shalt meeteth at the place of holiness, tis not a place sculpted by hand's of men;
Tis a place of dominion's and kingdom's. Inside God's house wherein we shalt be in peace, the angel's shalt singeth, halo sleep.




©Brandon Nagley
©Earl jane Nagley (Pookie) dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
pang's is sudden sharp pains or painful emotions for you who ask ...
.
Oh Girleen, leave that dark, ****-covered rock

And watch no more the waves white-capped with foam                                

Nor listen to their sighs; they only mock

Your lonely sorrowed heart; now come back home.



I don’t watch each wave that sweeps and falls,

I don’t heed the sobbing of the sea –

I’m listening for my own true lover’s call

There, can you hear now? He’s calling me….



Ah Girleen, sure it’s only the wild, wild wind,

A-wailing o’er the waters its sad song;

Put all these thoughts of him far from your mind-

To our own good god alone, the dead belong.



Ye lie, he’s mine, for from the grey sea-mist.

Yesterday evening when the sun sunk low

He came and took me in his arms and kissed my mouth

Just like he used to, long ago.



And so, I’ll not go home, but here I’ll stay

For maybe, in the smoky gloamin’ dim,

He’ll come again out o’er the showers o’ spray

And take me o’er the ragin’ seas with him.
Note: this is an old Ulster-Scots song which was collected in the book ‘The Ulster Folk’ by Padric Gregory (London 1912).
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