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Darling, it’s no spring yet
am going again to bed
no one problem to think about
please, don’t say it too loud

Of course am doing my best
rhyming excellently for the rest
of my HelloPoetry family
of course, scapegoats enough, ne’er my glee

Scapegoats what for?
writers' block and the more?
no muse ever drops in at mine
luckily the sun always shines

Am I the only one without a muse?
oh dear I am not amused !
must I hire or just call?
Wait, I just give a kick, and have a rollicking ball


© Sylvia Frances Chan
Created on 13th March 2015
posted on 17th March 2015
A Muse? Am not amused !
Rare riddles are oft bittersweet,
a never ending search for poisonous feed,
sand greyish desert coloured ****,
so many studies, not edible this seed?

Emeralds green in forrests deep,
sunken wood drifted apart and seep,
mortal words that never sleep,
in a city full of leaks.

cherished thoughts wandering celestial high,
whose orphans are these lost kids…sigh….
flickering fields, amish nigh;

shiverings on personal corpses,
numb of words, ah… stunts in shortest.

The words refused to be arranged as it must.
I lost my commands of the words, no, it’s no plus,
these words mock mankind as their playful lust,
sorry, now I can only say in the past tense:" Friends, 'twas....."



©  SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Wednesday 3rd June 2015
PF on 29th May 2015 -13.24 hrs.pm.
[ Do you love flowers? ]

Honestly speaking, I do love flowers,
not the ones I have to give showers.
I do like beautiful flower gardens and more,
not the ones I have to mow oft or to care good for.

I love to go walking every morning,
to watch all birds in the trees singing and fluttering.

Walking along emerald meadows, where diamonds do grow.
All kind of gems and flowers, according to my list, you know.

One special kind attracts my attention,
in fact I never care, but this time it was never my intention
to discover such delicate jewel, these rare flowers
a reddest colour was smiling at me lovingly, all hours.

Do I wish to turn my eyes from this flower or not,
I took paces back to be on that hottest spot.
Why does this flower attract mine attention?
since it was looking at me with such fine perfection.

Oh, you have never seen such a most wonderful plant,
this is only able, I reckon, through God's greatest grant.

This flower had such a beauty of its own, it did not pose,
a jewel of a flower, as red, as wild and most beautiful.

As a gem, a jewel of a flower, it did never pose
it is a mesmerizing wild rose most beautiful….
….most passionate.....my ardent Rose….




© Sylvia Frances Chan
Copyright protected
Sunday, the 5th of July 2015
4.30 hrs a.m. WETime.
My love, this is especially for you, I hope you will like it. With love from, Sylvia / Mijn lieve, dit is speciaal voor jou. Ik hoop dat je het leuk zal vinden, liefs van Sylvia.


as highest as the Chomolungma in Himalaya region
as magic as this Mount Everest correction
as huge as the Nightwatch of Rembrandt
as imposant as the Niagara Waterfalls when you shall land
as friendly as the Ricefields on Bali Island
as generous as the Space Needle together with Manhattan
as lovely as the puppet dolls my fiancé gave me in Jakarta
as beautiful as my wild Rose's voice when speaking about Indonesia
as wonderful as Serfaus at wintersport-season
as warm as Granada could be on Summerdays without a reason
as romantic as Venezia on dark nights
as cool as Paris sparkles in Autumnal lights
as truest as Jesus died on the cross at Calvary
my love for you so loyal as Plath's words, no fata morgana
so honest as Picasso's own Guernica
it means only most important and precious to you and to me,
this I tell to you as my only trustee and devotee.

Truest love ever known, most loyal ever shown !
I have told you all these with the help of God, amen.


Sylvia Frances Chan
© copyright protected
Sunday 9th August 2015 @ 14.30 hrs.AM.
Cool mild weather 22 C-degrees
 Aug 2015 Tahirih Manoo
Coop Lee
there is a fire, somewhere.
the sun/sun making mad love to the mother earth like hey.
hey to the water,
hey to the waves,
           & all bits below.

            endless mad love.

& electric, sing the youth.
swung the tooth of photosynthetic children trickling like tributaries
into/onto/toward all worldly tufts.
prisoners of the wild.
prisoners of the city, yet swords of something like the heart.
           like an amber ale popped spare
& nowhere but up,
baby.

old cassette-tape
as bottleneck netting. this is
stellar
fishing.

            who’s wet khakis?

mine.

visitors from the great stars and lush.
tall nettle, tall tent-
city &
popping sap campfires. acid-
dropped and cooler cocked.
rekindle this
                bliss,
                cosmos.
 Aug 2015 Tahirih Manoo
ji
Welcome
 Aug 2015 Tahirih Manoo
ji
To love is to invite tragedies in your soul, disclosing your heart vulnerable to every pain.

But if love is this beautiful, I think I would smile to even the worst tragedies and say, "Welcome! If you are love, though you bring pain, I wish you never go away."
080915
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