I was withdrawn,
Sullen,
Angry,
Then to my forest edge you came one day,
Sailing in on a
Bed of clouds
With a rainbow smile.
Although I tried to climb the trees,
Your bed of clouds was too high,
And you didn’t dare go down into the forest,
For fear your cloud would break.
The sweet pang I felt as I watched your
Rainbow smile ascend on your bed of clouds
Would not be soon forgotten.
But as I awake from my dream,
Your memory fades
As the wisp of a cloud.

Are we there yet when everything
we know turns upside down like
it did during Noah's time? No!, but
global warming is taking us there.

All good things come to an En
I love poetry so much
and she too loves me
despite our age difference. Poetry
sometimes speak to me in

colorful sweet words and sometimes
in sad words but most times
her words to me are humours
and sensual, no matter what

words she used to speak
to me, I will always
cherish her because she has
always been good to me

by helping me express myself more
clearly, I will miss her
when what we have comes
to an end which it will

for all good things end
just like dawn follows dust
every day without failing so
what we have most end one day

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

Love is easy to draw
Hard to show.