Love carried on the whistling wind,
It screamed your tag initially,
Now in a wild whirling whisper when you wonder what each message spells.
Semaphore and smoke signals, carried on the winter wind as storms collide within your eyes.
Deities of chaos, went and wrote a book of words.
In shreds of insular letters written on ice, in crystal clouds.
Something like I love you.
In Sanskrit symbols, carved in old woods.
Where women run naked, who say that it's good.
And all the information thereby, carried on that whistling wind.
(c)LIVVI

Ready meals and empty beds.
Playing games inside their heads.
Want to sleep, but only weep.
With secrets thus eternal keep.
They have no feelings in their eyes.
A bucketful of seeming lies.
This a stroke of sorrow.
Mournful dirge.
Contrite purge.
All of this means nothing much.
Putting my pen to work.
Had the day off and being a ****.
Relieving boredom as only I can.
Funny little woman me, not very young but totally free....x
(c)LIVVI

I had one of those but the wheel fell off

I lost the tone of my wobbly piano,
I had one of those but the wheel fell off,...
I fell in a ditch because of this.
A one wheeled bike is a unicycle, and I can't ride one.
I had one of those and the wheel fell off.
I stumbled from the path,
Oh dear,


A passing Arabian from a street market nearby,
Gave me a carpet so that I could fly.
I didn't need my wheels, not one or two or three.
I flew over the houses and crossed the blue sea.
I saw a number of mighty beasts from the briny,
Several fair ships and I'm not being whiney.
It seems to me that I don't need wheels as my carpet's flying high.
Thank you Mr Market Trader.
For now I am a space invader!
(C) LIVVI

Inspired by my two cute grandsons as I played with them this morning

She dances in shadows of Sunday as Monday creeps around.
A child of night-time's leaving as dawn comes back around.
The morning heat consumes the coffee that she takes..
She spills Monday into mind-set as Sunday night she must forget.
A kiss on his ear did break down his fear.
No soul upon earth last weekend should remember mistakes that they never made.
Now Thursday's nearly defeated.
The night sky navy blue.
Feeling somewhat empty,
A little bit like you.
(C) LIVVI

There's a spirit in my bedroom,
It's perched beside my bed.
It's very old, but very tasty.

Like a genie it lives in a bottle,
Until tipped and poured.
And then set free.

Then it shall play with my head.
It's lingered there since Christmas time.
Once was yours, but now is mine.
You didn't want it,
I didn't either then,
And now it's taunting me.
I fancy some again!
LIVVI

Somewhere in the distance there lives a pretty *****, they say that she's a minx,
In the distance northern hills they state, that she's a lynx.
The hunters try to finish her, I guess she must be jinxed.
(c)LIVVI