mama sang  to me ,
this old ballad,
sonnets so intruding,

the bad seed we sow!
the bad seeds we reap!

your garden is your amor
kinder your base ,
dig little treasures,

In spring water, courage,
Sow in the patience,
Your progress is victory

In summer, pluck your dignity,
Rinse it with morals,
Plunder your beauty ,

The roots within are  grit ,
The steam is your spurt,
Mold your prudence
Mama sang !

Papa save me!
I am  wounded
The rage is fuming,
my certitude , muddled
anguish soaks

I’ve brawled these doubts
My empathy is at scare

Papa save me!
the  demons I Incur
found of grey
I am  stitched to grief,
It  swishes  my existent
When linger for faith,
The light in me ,
is too leaden

My lovers lies,
are broad as the Nile ,
His tease smooth,
like that of honey,
to sooth for concern
wove the untold,
The growls ,
is unhinged,

The hypocrisy,
Too Crafty  
the  soul at fist  
fond of blasphemy
the nourishment,
is unnerving
the gasp,  
too unfamiliar

his gaze that of the moon,
His grace of luminaries,
His eyes  too delightful  
the yearning thaws,
Too dull for pretense,


it, burns my urge ,
the tales, clayed
with madness,
and yet, to consoling

Yellow💛
you bring color to my joy
your beauty in sunset
you taste fresh like honey
your my warmth of laughter
love
diana

She Utters

She boarded her fate to Minnesota.
She made her way
To a deadly audience.
With a grin-she was hopeful.
Her eyes soaked of warmth
her gaze so intangible.

Not  found of attention,
As cunning as her audience,
Her art was profoundly
her sketch was presumable.

She grasped for breath!
Her lips carelessly rhymed
Her pain, so glued for comfort
Her eyes sour
She  spoke softly in resentment

Her script well adept
her lips inferno, stir controversy
That blazed the stage with passion for disdain
Her dialects a mournful adversity
Uncut the pause , her audience mocked!
A resented  integrity.

As coward, they laughed.
rebuked her willAs masterly of con.
she sobs a Jab to reality .
100 days of depiction
100 nights of pretense.
Refined by her role
she made her exit

when hurt is woven,
The girl grin,
She’s sunshine in winter,
There is still in calm,
In string of meadows,
She’s honey,
she grips with taste,
                                                       Like din her gaze is mortal.
Glory as stars.
She’s fire,

There is certainty in her eyes,
wild as flames,
burring bridges, a risk to muse,
her ache, the soldier at heart
a mother s beam,beyond concern.
within poise,her fright is intense.
When will she bout?
Is her grit bestowed?
Her pasture, ruined ?
the anchor to all,
her love persistent