It all started when my retired
but not tired old dear father
moved to a nice new neighbourhood,

with only sleep and the weather
to worry about and still feeling
young at heart my sexagenarian father

refused to be turn into "fiddling"
his word, while he's the figure
head of the house. So to gardening

he took, showing he was a rear
breed -old school, for two years he tiol
in his garden making it a rear

success with little harvested of small
fruit, herb, flowers, vegetables and tomatoes.
Everything change one morning in April

A neighbour's **** and two hens
with their chicks turn his garden
into a free buffet eating his plants

with vengeance of a thirst man
in desert that found a stream.
Dad took to using little stone

and stick to try and chase them
away by waving it and making
shoo! sounds the hens who seem

to value their chicks life started staying
away. but it was not so with
the white rooster he was having

None of it to ire my old father
more every morning and at least twice
daily he stand and crow louder

at my dads window and only his.
Being old and full of sleep
this annoyed him, his cosy nice

cat naps was intrude upon, the relationship
between the one feet cantankerous rooster
and father took a dive. To rip

off the **** head and feather
was my father first thought but
we plead that he report the rooster

to it owner, he trace the white
**** owner's house five house away
and found out his kin own it.

we never knew why but up to today
He never reported the **** his
owner, while it got more bold everyday

with it antic. New year's day becomes
what father loved to see more
than any day; for he thinks

the fat cantankerous, son of the air,
in our dialect it translate to a *******;
(he restore to calling names) will be no more

because of the drama unfolding we had
a new year vision for "Bob"
the white feather and red head

rooster.Low and behold cantankerous bob
saw the new year's day in
the usual antic befitting only bob
by coming to my dad window to crow

Good morning from Chumphon, Thailand

I awake with happy birds
and country roosters' crow
lazy and slow

I pity busy morning
filled with noisy cars
rushing downtown
anxious and hurried with cares

By Wyle Tan

It is May Day
Not a sign of the tulips blooming
The sun won’t stay behind the clouds forever,
Said the weatherman  
What the hell do they know”.

I woke up with the intention of burning
The African scented candle stick: forgetting
That I didn’t purchased them yesterday:

Darkness fell upon this May morn
The air is cold and gloomy: somehow my
Favorite visitors took time from the morning routine,

Landed on my window and sang to me

I texted my brother and reminded him
To water the roses,
Trimmed the dry leaves,
On my outdoor patio upstairs

I remember  May Day long ago
When I finally broke the *****
I have pondered about that old lover
From time to time: with a genuine smile
So far my memories is kind to me,

There is a picture of a rooster on the kitchen wall
it reminds me of my grandmother kitchen
Where food wasn’t an abundant
Despite adversity:  
but lots of love was there in that old house:

Dark sky can dampen one spirit.
However, a hot cup of coffee, a keyboard
Can boost ones energy,
Composing a poem, a happy poetess
Or a game of slots can brings out the art of creativity
As she takes on the morning with a few
Words, a few lines, hoping to put a smile
On the faces of sadness

Stuffed on chicken wire,
no rooster in the yard.

I’m practicing magic
while the lawnmower rides.

Funny that,
said her valentine.

They hadn’t yet learned
there’s so much to know,

her body opening
like a rose.

plied playful pied piper oh puppeteer dream writer of a wonder and future so bright,
oh tell pray chance the grand wonders in morrows to come a stored store for the wondering fools of this world tonight.

casting, the irons so hot, malleable, tender in the hearts delights, here in this awkwardly worded flight, of fearless tendency, oh ****, necromancy?
****, yeah, that, that can stay far from sight. now, lets lead with the fixxen to wack the mole of ridiculous vixxen and fiction so true, so true the crookedly made house, rousted clout, for he is an ego far too large this alley mouse, pretending to be a cat without a house, oh wait that's me, scratch that last part, before someone figures out i was only a silly little roustabout, and hoping to rooster, and goose the calling of mine own loud *** mouth out. crap. this *****, but we are far from done, oh almost forgot you standing there, will you do us all a solid and tell us the way out? or at least what horse to bet on in the triple crown and the powered ***** all hanging out? your a Daisey if ya do.
SuperStar
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1EreTOvelQ