Because my kiss is like frequency and measure as the waves
My lips stays Plumper as a ripe cherry on a hot day
Just waiting to be kiss, in the moonlight:

The littlest things we dream about, that is so dear
Can be detrimental, because of modern technology
The lack of touch, the loss of sound, gone forever:

Shall we continued to forget the walks in the park
Making love in the dark, under the starry sky
Just to be trade in by the late nights video chatting?

Being an advocate of love, a unmasked spiritual intruder:
I enter the winging maypole of merry gestor: In my mind

because, my kiss is like frequency and measure as the waves
my opinion on the subject matter, never matters

P.S
**Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.” Dr Suess

I don't know If I’m Having a Feeling
I don't have any emotions anymore
Or I am dreaming, while I am awake?
Is my mind exploring my feelings?

While seeking happiness in this 18 degree weather?
Baking a melodrama cake,
Pounding away my headaches,
Clearing the path, making way for better
Eggs, butter, flour, sugar and raisins

Raising the bar, with the baking powder
Of transferring my feeling into logic,
As it blend into a smooth non stanza
Poetic form of puppy love, clinching

and all that rises, rise in due degree
And is in everything we see and do.

In the footsteps of the day
Is not like the footstep of the night
My eyes knows the dark

My souls know the rooms
The corridors, the smell,
The peek a boo light under the
entrance door and they you are the shadow
of what was lost: once again:

  who knows what lurks in the heart of man:

In every home there is a dark passage,
Loneliness, grief, depression and marriage
They breathes soundly by your side: then the wreckage

Another year, another chapter, another longing
For skin hunger, waiting and awaiting:
Where does these emotion lead?
To deception, or tears,

So I am asking, what happen to my soulmate
The one with the locks that fits my keys,
and ,the keys  that fit his locks?

Now, I move alone in the dark unseeing,
as I move toward the door, I remember,
there is only one direction
And that is back to the warmth of my bed

There will be roses and daisy
When you are gone: dripping water
will drop from the sky liner,
the neglected tall fence overlaps

On to the neighbor property: little did she know
Those Iron bolts and hinges trap your ghost within:
Heavy with guilt, her bald spots will shine
Under her broad rim Sunday hat, as she sing praises
Many have notice that you are no longer there,
Now the world know of her secret love affair,
With the elderly church parishioner:
Holy, holy Oh God almighty

Those members can surely sin,
Now, the world know now of her ***** affair,
There will be roses, and daisy, when you are gone
Dripping, water from the sky liner,
Centipede in her bloomers:

And the ghost of you, will be trap in her chambers,
Where the sin of ****** was repeated,
These perhaps might be useless memories

whereas , a poet ears, and pen never forgets,
The tears of the dead, confession,
Oh, there will be talk of your passing,
Some good and some will comes,
across as being empathic

There is always that faint whisper of what a pity!
It took years, but the widow E.W. stood there and wept
Holy, holy Oh, God Almighty,

There is always
one more dead body
to make us sigh!

We fret at every little thing
We cry when, we should be laughing
And laugh when we should be crying:

Our humanistic way  of coping with life:
How Old Is Mrs. Claus? Mrs. Claus is 1,136 years young!
We will never grieve for the Mr. and Mrs. Claus

They will forever live in our hearts,
Fictional but pleasing to the young
We celebrated another Christmas once again
We cheer, we reminisce, and we hesitate about them

However,

**This is my wish for you: peace of mind, prosperity through the year, happiness that multiplies health for you and yours, fun around every corner, energy to chase your dreams, joy to fill your holidays!” — D.M. Dellinger: Quote

Give A Little : I take a Little

I am the daughter of a sharecropper
I am the real granddaughter of Netta
I am the element of surprises
Sadness and gladness is a part of my being
I give a little, I take a little and I
Pay the price and make the sacrifice:

I am the daughter of a sharecropper,
Back on the hills where the zephyr winds only
Last, for a nanosecond: while
Hiding away from the warm air:
this young child survive:

I am the daughter of a sharecropper,
I sing the songs of the old calypsonians
In memories of my ancestors as they
Sings and mocked their slave masters
Even beyond the grave:

Sadness and gladness is a part of their memories
I give a little, I take a little and I
Pay the price and make the sacrifice,
I have the scars to justified,
the other man white lies:
I felt the pain, in the cold rain,

I am the daughter of a sharecropper,
The granddaughter of Netta,
The element of surprises,
Here I am today still feuding with my choices
that I have come to make...….

Goodbye vanity
I was never in love with him:
Oh, no you departing fading days,
When would I see you again?

Your morning sunlight, your evening breaks
I long for summer days once more,
Stress, depression and the holiday’s mood will fade
The aching heart will adjust,
As it reject the love of a mortal:
I will love myself more, and more

But, like a child on Christmas morn
Tigger and I would be glad when Christmas is over:
We relived it through the eyes of our
Offspring: every year as it comes,
Another sibling to cherish,
Another moment to say to a stranger
Merry Christmas, seasoning greeting,
The happiest wouldn’t last

But the tears will rolled,
As the sun goes down on Christmas Eve
And yet and yet and yet another mistletoe
And where are we?
Back to square one…