Inspector Dork was not pleased with himself

he had interrogated everyone in the house
only to be knocked down by
impenetrable alibi

Spouse Susan slept soundly through the night
and was awakened in the morn
when the alarm bell rang in his room

Daughter Debby's room was a floor down
she was up with her studies
plugged to earphones

Son Simon was out for the night
he was at his friend's place
for a birthday party

Maid Maddie made his bed
when the clock in his master's room
was chiming ten

Butler Bill having served a glass of milk
closed the door behind him
and retired for the night.

Inspector Dork was about to leave the victim's room
when his eyes fell on the clock pendulum

it was not swinging

he knew who was lying.

I called the lone parrot passing over my head

from the blue
i won't fly to you
it said

forgot the love i gave?

but you made me your slave
to repeat your chosen line
to voice your chosen tune
my life was not mine

so from the blue
i won't ever fly to you

she affirms the parrot escaped

but i know one dull afternoon in March
she let the bird fly away
being too weary of the chosen line.

Train stops.
Coffee shops.
Feet shuffle across the cobbled stones.
Flurries of sparkling dew are falling,
undecided if they're snow or rain.
It's getting cold out here,
winter nipping at our toes and ears;
pulling jackets closer,
wishing jackets were our lovers.

And there, in the warmth of a corner shop,
a nymph, perhaps, or just a girl.
And when she looks up, my god,
it's like the sun has birthed a world
of stars and planets, a universe,
held inside a sea of traversed
by love and longing
and patient waiting,
for a man exactly like you.

And as you reach for that thing you need,
what was it that you came here for?
Those fingers brush your hand,
and your head rushes in your heart,
and those eyes capture your smile,
and as you journey back to home,
the cobbled streets are so much warmer
as you pull your jacket closer
and she pulls you closer too.

this little number
is for your sake
cause if you know
just how I feel
I won't have to fake
make no mistake
this is the quake
inside us both
if you hold me near
you can feel it too
you take away my blue
make me feel alive
anyways,
I think I love you

Is there anything more wonderful
Then being part of the poet’s corner?
Lucky am I to be a poetry lover!
A romance novelist used poetry to ponder
A story that changes and transforms
One’s heart.  Is there anything more wonderful?
Joining a poetry site, I blundered
My way to writing a poem, oh what torture!
But lucky am I to be a poetry lover.
Many offered their support, allowing me to discover
My path and slowly my writing became stronger.
Is there anything more wonderful?
So many inspired awe and wonder,
Giving me strength to claim my own corner,
Justifying my becoming a poetry lover.
To those who offered encouragement so tender
I offer my thanks and give honor.
Is there anything more wonderful
Than becoming a poetry lover?*

Kelly Rose
December 29, 2015

Week One.
Possible reasons why she left you:
1. She was abducted by aliens
2. She turned into a mermaid
3. She joined a group of pirates

Week Two.
Possible reasons why she left you:
4. She won the lottery
5. She was a secret princess
6. She works for MI6

Week Three.
Possible reasons why she left you:
7. She met someone else
8. She doesn’t love me
9. She never did

Week Four.
Possible reasons why she left you:
10. She didn't feel loved.
11. She had enough.
12. She's emotionally drained.

Week Five.
Possible reasons why she left you:
13. She forgot who she was in the relationship.
14. She realised you were a boy and not a man.
15. You didn't support her growth as a human being.

Week Six.
Possible reasons why she left you:
16. She never got attention she truly deserves. She's fed up of "what's up" and emoticons.
17. Everything is all about you. Nothing is ever about her.
18. She loves herself too.

Our poems are fabrics

knit with the dreams inside
laid out in the open
so may a passing eye
grant a glance

a pausing mind
decides for a fleeting moment
to wear

thinking them their own.