I want to believe, canine heaven,
Oh,  dear old boy,
You filled our days with jumpy, troublesome joy,
Sad, you never made it to eleven.

Set to default mode,
An unconscious impulse,
To reach for the mobile,
Whenever, and every time.

There's nothing good found,
In the one different from the rest,
Ready to head west,
While others look north;

Of a different shade,
And not to be confined,
To the averageness of existing,
Without actually living, fully.

They offer a seat at the table,
Something quite irresistible,
Far enough not to contribute,
But close enough to be seen;

This of oft the fate of faces,
Of people with loud consciences,
That appear to be with the people,
But only bidding time for opportunity.

Everything well laid,
A bit here and some there,
A wide section, narrowed,
For the mind to see.

In my eyes, my eyes,
I see, oh, yes! I see,
Hotter things than can be,
Much colder, even colder than ice;

When too big, too big,
Enormous even by all standard,
And failure a distant thought,
Nothing is large enough to scare;

The little ones that make big things,
So they withdraw their unnoticed labour,
Put down tools and make a protest,
Saying what the heck! We made you!

So much power,
But do they know?
Of course they don't,
Overworked even to bother;

But the day the sun shines,
On their consciousness,
And they are filled with enlightenment,
Olympus will have to sit up!

To the party,
To development,
To common sense,
To everything else;

Coronavirus COVID-19,
Has stripped them,
Down to their inefficiencies,
Revealed! All lack basic competencies;

The people of state bear the brunt,
Of coconut heads acting like eggheads,
Led by an ancient of days,
Too old for many modern ways.

To make anything right,
When everything is all wrong,
The more things seem different,
Each time, they are just what they used to be.

Endless nagging,
Her cold tongue wagging,
Never stops wanting,
Always, daily, asking.

Face of an angel,
Then he hits me with a cudgel,
Every night is a duel,
Nothing I do, I do well.

We need each other,
To grow old, smiling, together,
Better halves of one another,
To hold, to love, and to cherish, forever.

Hotter than better parts of hell,
Heathens know not to fraternise,
It's haram to try, even to modernise,
Holier than the devil's backyard, everyone can tell.

The will to carry on,
When the back is broken;
Mere words will not do,
And certainly not a cockadoodledoo.

Searched through the ages,
For the other pea in the pod,
And whenwhen she was found,
The whole world came around.

Eyes that melt a bad day,
And hold the blues at bay,
Nothing can hold my smile,
When your voice comes after the dial.

I'm stuck with you,
Through the bright and blue,
I know we'll pull through,
Because our love is true.

Rebellion is a her middle name,
She demands special rights in the game,
If you disregard her serpentine frame,
The all you get is a walk of shame.

She is such a woman,
And am I her man?
She believes in me,
And is this what I see?

If today I can't get it,
Or stop by Olympus to grab som'n to eat,
It's just a matter of chance,
And time will create a perfect balance.

Her curves fascinate my eyes,
They float across her perfect lines,
Drinking in mesmerising contours,
Fantasizing going through her magic doors.

Gently rock, to and fro,
Deep, kissing the insides,
**** in sharply, freeze the rides,
Clean up, your sweaty brow.

When life throws me bricks,
And cannot, I, turn any tricks,
I stack a pile out of the lot,
And make me a nice looking plot.

Twenty-two and one ball,
Green spread, markings of white,
Netted uprights joined by a bar,
Dizzying delight of moments of brilliance.

Almost missed penning,

Something to mark the day,

My thoughts roam very far away,

Floating...drifting...floating...drifting.

I was drawn to something,
Everything about you,
Then you took it all,
And made me look stupid.

The problem created by problem makers,
Who call themselves, ridiculously, government,
Is push absurdity down the throat of the people,
And expect anything better than stupidity;

These people create burdens,
Designed only for the vulnerable,
Fetter the impoverished with difficulties,
And pass the blame to others than them;

Laughable, the least,
Ignominious, the most,
Ridiculous, in between,
Mendacious, all around;

Other nations do it,
So, why can't we?
But are you a country?
Please, inform my ignorance;

So, when they place the sleigh before the dogs,
And expect movement is any positive direction,
It only shows the extent of their disillusionment,
The sincerity of the toilet, really.

And Cain lifted his arm,
And struck his brother, Abel,
And the earth groaned in pain,
And hate soaked the entire world.

I wear something larger,
As I have acquired a frame, bigger,
The years have added their toll,
But I am on a positive roll;

Everything that my closed eyes have dreamt,
With open reality I have learnt,
That life will give as much as it takes,
No regretting free opportunities and one-night forsakes;

In four decades a lot have transpired,
My father has for four years expired,
Dear mother suffered a grieving stroke,
And many times I have been badly broke;

I found a wife, woman of my rib,
And twice, we have filled our crib,
A boisterous girl, now three,
And a charming boy, four months lovely to see;

So I have considered my days,
And reflected on my ways,
To the owner of my soul, many thanks,
For many never swarm this banks;

As the other half looms large,
Setting off on a greying, more introspectful barge,
I pray the seas be milder, blessed kinder,
Offering fresher courses toward the unknown border.

Alarm goes off at three,
And the day, for me, begins.
As usual, the preliminary fixes,
Before the others come awake;

Quick check on my vitals,
Nothing seems out of place,
Satchet water, three? No, two,
Then a short visit to the loo;

By the time it chimes five 'o clock,
Cereals for the children and teeth brushed,
Then mommy runs them a warm bath,
And daddy packs the school lunches;

All of these appear routine,
But for us, a way of life,
Going on seven moons,
Simply, the joys of fatherhood;

But I digress, many pardons,
For today another year is added,
The heavens have been merciful,
And reflections are no pastime;

Serious matters become frequent,
Issues of the afterlife more apparent,
Leaving a legacy to be proud of,
And making it beyond midlife;

The Mrs, as usual, with pleasant surprises,
Makes the day more than ordinary,
Pulls all the impossile stops,
Leaving stress to look so secondary;

Going into the new year,
The first without Mom and Dad,
Makes me wonder in, future 'spect,
Now, life has surely begun.

The ones that bore me,
They are now no more,
The rest by each other,
They look on, unaware;

The past few moons,
For me have been tempestuous,
Navigating economy subtleties,
Around the harshness of present realities;

Sometimes my heart protests,
Send me a-clutching,
Reminds me in no mean terms,
Each beat is to pampered and nurtured;

Looking around me,
Is there anything lacking,
Yes, certainly there are,
And of course plenty to be grateful for;

So, laying here with my thoughts,
The moonshine barely casting a shadow,
Ticking closer, every second by every minute,
Toward the hour of hearty returns.

Many roses are,
But your petals rare,
Many wingers be,
But not you, my queen bee;

On the threshold of your twenties,
Just a step before the thirties,
I wrap my love, again, around you,
Just as it was, the day I met you.

Happy Birthday, My Love. My own queen, from heaven above.

"Howdy, how's it going?"
The icebreaker at the time,
Was not a fancy one liner,
But must have caught that beautiful eye;

So the planets have realigned,
To form the third chapter,
In this journey of life,
That will take you to magic filled places;

And as our stars have crossed,
And the heavens bear witness with us,
And praise the gods for their yearly benevolence,
And for a brand new year of jolly, jolly hurrah!

<3 : TOFA

On this lifelong journey,
We're a love in progress,
Thanks for this engaging process,
Of deeply and rewarding unfolding story.

The alignment of the stars, today,
Shall be in your favour, all the way,
Creating a shining path, for you,
To live, blossom and remain blessed, all through.

Cowardly gunmen,
Rampaging, pillaging children and women,
But take way their arms,
And they become dung on farms.

She said she felt inferior,
That the rich and famous guy was not prior,
So she wanted a new birthday suit,
The exact opposite of her bitter truth.

Did you see my jaw drop,
And my eyes pop!
Wow, what a creature!
Of unimaginable pleasure.

Off with your emotions!
I found a willing love,
Contrary to your machinations,
I have been blessed from above.

Better it is today,
My life to lay,
For a course worthy,
Than a cowardly history.

The sequence of our emotions,
Is a new tradition,
Packed in discrete portions,
Not a random relation.

Out of dark holes they come,
Half breeds with little minds,
Cavernous, monstrous kinds,
Shuffling around for meaty some.