Ever since we met I haven't gone a day Without loving you I haven't known a day Without your name Written all over my ******* heart It didn't take me long at all To figure out that You're kind of the one The one I want to be with You let me paint your nails You think it's cute when I chow down on a burger You tell me you love me when you're deep inside of me You do face masks with me You say my snort is adorable And it all feels different When I tell you I love you It all feels true For once in my life Compared to all those times In the back of my impala When I said it just to get them to *** So I could go home already No this time it means something And I've meant it since day one When I said it in the laundry room You looked back and smiled While I blushed up a storm The hurricane hit me hard And changed my life forever
Original: Monday's child is fair of face Tuesday's child is full of grace Wednesday's child is full of woe Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for a living, And the child that is born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
Our version: Monday’s child will be a superhero – ABIGAIL Tuesday’s child never gets a zero – JULIA Wednesday’s child loves to smile – ASHLEY Thursday’s child is kinda wild – Friday’s child is so nice and likes to play – Saturday’s child is true and won’t betray – And the child born on Sunday, so happy, – Is an angel with a great personality. –
I wrote this with my girls (7 and 9), and they had a lot of fun. I just love writing things with them, it always captures that childlike spirit of fun that just makes me smile.
I wake up wishing to go back to bed. Wishing I was following my dreams instead. Praying to be on the right path. Always in the mood, high like an aircraft. War planes somedays Other like air balloons good company on a sunday.
All shrubbery around is shaken by the wind As smoking grey clouds threaten rain. But I sit snugly in my lounge Idly contemplating a chicken-breast tea.
The long heatwave is over For now. Atlantic air has swept the mugginess Aside. Thermometers have settled down While cooler moisture sooths our very souls.
This lounge of mine presents a landscape too: Of settee, armchairs and table Along with dining chairs and TV: Mountains over carpet savannas.
But the kitchen calls me from next door So no matter how lazy I feel I really have to eat now. This interlude must end So very soon.
A cute chocolate truffle cake Brought mysteriously Without my knowledge at all.
My team & colleagues clapping and singing Happy Birthday Which means a lot to me.
While I cut the cake with shaking hands Anxious a bit Not used to So much of attention How to express my emotions Whether happy or sad, I don't know what to do
As all of them Gave me a reason To smile a bit And be happy despite of challenges.
My birthday on this Sunday but my team brought a beautiful cake to cherish upon. Sorry all of you for not being around much here. Hectic schedule does make me low But trying to get back on reading and writing poetry here more often. Hp is always a family to me, and you all have been my pillar during the storms and thunder.
As the sun slowly sets The precursor to the week With deadlines, Orders, Oh so bleak The calm before the storm Too restless to enjoy For everybody knows It's sunday's melancholy ploy
Responsibilities loom overhead Our heart as heavy as the air The world has now gone silent We sit in subtle fear
So, if I wait until the morrow, pale As aught excuse, we might continue thence This theme: I meant to scribble--for intents. Espresso. With sweet conversation, bail For many years, passe, lost in betrayl Since April was't? This morning likeas hence We'd never ceased, I sip with Dad, a sense Of sweeter hours in tow as if t'avail. And Wordsworth oer last bits of coffee, to Effect where Sunday afternoon in tour Could don a sense of happier years we knew When Mum was still with us. O tis a poor Suggestion. I cooked lunch with mishaps fer Reminders of the LORD's great mercies: new.
24Jun18
My boyfriend saying he'd like to see this, now ally'alls can too.
The only thing that woke me up this morning was the meow of my kitten who wanted to be let in. He wanted to enter my safe space where my feelings and thoughts were pinned to my stark walls. I wanted my walls to be white. Like a blank canvas. I wanted a reason to wake up in the morning. I wanted to paint my thoughts each day. My bed felt like quicksand. I was being forced to stay beneath my sheets by an imaginary pull that I felt was so real. From my bedroom window, I can see the sunset reminding me of nights in our hammock ******* to our favorite tree. The tree drooped in an odd but beautiful way, and it was fascinating. I can also see the sunrise that on early Sunday mornings motivated me to roll out of bed, that was many times ago. The only reason I get out of bed some mornings is that I have high hopes that one day we’ll meet again at the farmers market just down the street. You'll bump into me and realize what we once had was special. You'll realize our love was as sweet as an August peach.
out of bed and into your arms your fresh eyes, morning hair and scruffy face, your hands go up my sides and back around my waist as you pull me close and take me in no where else on earth feels this much like home, I've never felt such security in fingertips before loving you is like breathing because I can't get enough
