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The cutest face,
big blueish eyes,
Soft reddish hair,
Angel in disguise.

Best sense of humour,
The widest of smiles,
Most loving personality,
Voice heard for miles.

My single savior,
From going insane,
Keeps me alive,
Keeps me in lane.

My life isn't perfect,
But with her it feels such,
She is my baby,
I love her so much
My greatest achievement
irinia Nov 6
when guns speak louder than words
all beauty must die
when we let any child die
all hope must die

when the earth will move us
far away from tears
all beauty should remember
its momentary flee
in a child's knee
Mark Toney Nov 3
Such a violent world we live in
Hard to know just what to do
For example both my mom and dad
Have slapped and spanked me too
But nowadays some choose a path
That may seem rather odd
To discipline with words instead
Of reaching for a rod

"The rod and reproof give wisdom ..."
What does the Bible mean?
In carrying out that principle
Some have gone to the extreme
The rod of discipline should be
To train towards peace and love
True discipline's tree yields peaceful fruit
The Wisdom from above

The rod of discipline is like
The rod of a caring shepherd
Who wields his rod in a loving way
For the sheep by him are treasured
The best example is God Himself
Before whom we sin each day
Does he beat us with a rod of pain?
No, His Word shows us the way

It's true at times He scourges
Some of those that He holds dear
Even then 'tis done in a loving way
Leaving naught for us to fear
Yes, nowadays some choose a path
That may seem rather odd
To discipline with words instead,
Like the discipline from God

© 2023 Mark Toney
11/03/2023 - Poetry form: Rhyme - © 2023 Mark Toney
Run... run while you can
before the envelopment entraps you
encapsulating escape with leaden clouds
skies darkened by searing missiles
unburdening caches waiting
for the stirring of conflict
so easy to hijack
as hatred
out the pleas
of nursing mothers
as children's faces fend off
old feuds and avarice of arms dealers
sparked by grief over the slaughter and scarring of children and families due to avarice of war
Safana Oct 22
It is time to call it quits.
It is time for you to go back to the West.
Throw in the towel on the Black Sea.
You, too.
The time has come.
Come together and act as a team.
I am not talking about religion here.
My voice contains a human element.
This is a gratuitous insult.
You and your nations are powerful, but you are helpless.
You have no authority over your belongings or yourself.
It is something I keep saying.
That is all there is to it.
Otherwise, everything is possible.
I swear by Allah, the Creator of All.
I swear by Allah, the Almighty.
One day, Gaza will feed you calabaza.
Free Palastine
Little kids feel happy and they smile so sweet,
Little kids feel angry and they stamp their feet,
Little kids feel lonely and they cry a tear,
Little kids feel lonely and they want mommy near.

Happy and sad and mad and glad, God made all of me.

Little kids make something and they feel so proud,
Little kids feel silly and they laugh out loud,

Happy and sad and mad and glad, God loves all of me.

A sweet song/poem written by my grandmother before she passed. She took care of children her entire life. She has had an everlasting impact of the souls of thousands. I found this on a piece of paper in her Bible.
Stand with me on ten toes
a little piggy that markets a bit of love
And I know we'd kick  it better at home,
while I roast your friends every time we meet,
always having beef with them all
The don't know you truly for yourself,
quite frankly you're better off with none
Still you and I make a perfect we, we can feast like
a little piggy on sweet nothing's, when we're home alone

                    I guess we're still a bit like kids, in love.
Would you like me to write more pieces like this?
Zywa Sep 10
Child's play can smell of

tobacco smoke, camphor, cat --

and burnt porridge.
"Klein seuntjies wat gespeel het die heeldag aanmekaar, dié ruik so teen die middag na twak en kiesieblaar, na wilde-als en padda en aangebrande pap, harmansdrup en paregorie, katjiepoetjie en janlap." (Alba Brouwer)

- "Little boys who played together all day, smell like tobacco and malva at noon, like wormwood and frog and burnt porridge, Haarlem oil and paregoric, cat's paw and jalap."

Tale "A Change of tongue" (2003, Antjie Krog)

Collection "SoulSenseSun"
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