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there was a little elf as funny as can be
he lived in the woods inside a big oak tree
he wore a funny hat and a his ears were big
he would play a fiddle and do a little jig
one day in the woods he saw a little mole
he was sat there crying poor little soul
the elf he went to see what had made him cry
then he asked the mole what was the reason why
the poor mole was lost he had lost his way
while walking through the woods he had gone astray
dont worry said the elf i will guide you back
then off they walked together down the woody track
they strolled along together for a little while
elf he found his hole and mole began to smile
mole he said goodbye and elf went on his way
the mole he climbed inside his hole and slept the day away
there was a little mole a clever chap was he

he lived underground living wild and free

always digging holes every here and there

leaving lots of hills each and every where.



one day he was digging he heard a funny sound

it was very loud underneath the ground

mole he started digging to see where it could be

then he saw a shrew very stuck was he



the little shrew had fallen down a great big hole

now the shrew was trapped poor little soul

the shrew he started crying teardrops down his face

dont worry said the mole i will free you from this place.



mole began to a dig a tunnel underground

he dug for quite a while till way out had been found

shrew he was so happy he was free once more

he was free again just like he was before





shrew he thanked the mole and went along his way

and from great big holes shrew he stayed away

mole he carried on digging underground

still thinks about the shrew and the way out he had found
there was a little mole a clever chap was he

he lived underground living wild and free

always digging holes every here and there

leaving lots of hills each and every where.



one day he was digging he heard a funny sound

it was very loud underneath the ground

mole he started digging to see where it could be

then he saw a shrew very stuck was he



the little shrew had fallen down a great big hole

now the shrew was trapped poor little soul

the shrew he started crying teardrops down his face

dont worry said the mole i will free you from this place.



mole began to a dig a tunnel underground

he dug for quite a while till way out had been found

shrew he was so happy he was free once more

he was free again just like he was before





shrew he thanked the mole and went along his way

and from great big holes shrew he stayed away

mole he carried on digging underground

still thinks about the shrew and the way out he had found
Joel A Doetsch Mar 2012
Joel's mole dug a hole
in a grassy knoll....
the mole hit a pole
and started to roll....
he hit a troll
and they smoked the whole bowl
of mind control.  

The troll asked for a toll,
but the mole was on parole.  
Joel's mole has no soul.
This was not written by me...it was written for me on my 20th birthday by my classmates (and professor) during class.   I claimed that "Joel" was not a good rhyming word, and thus this was born.
there was a little mole a clever chap was he

he lived underground living wild and free

always digging holes every here and there

leaving lots of hills each and every where.



one day he was digging he heard a funny sound

it was very loud underneath the ground

mole he started digging to see where it could be

then he saw a shrew very stuck was he



the little shrew had fallen down a great big hole

now the shrew was trapped poor little soul

the shrew he started crying teardrops down his face

dont worry said the mole i will free you from this place.



mole began to a dig a tunnel underground

he dug for quite a while till way out had been found

shrew he was so happy he was free once more

he was free again just like he was before





shrew he thanked the mole and went along his way

and from great big holes shrew he stayed away

mole he carried on digging underground

still thinks about the shrew and the way out he had found
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
On the edge, the living earth
dared to mimic Queen Fathima's worth,
the Queen of Heaven's grace and poise,
her footsteps, a blessed path of choice.
This way bedewed with divine light,
a numinous destination of sight,
graced by thousands of prophets of God,
a sacred path that all should trod.

In Allah's name, she descended,
on the Night of Ascension, her path transcended.
from the Night of Measures, she came,
her frame, heaven's dark matter, a mystery untamed.
A divine dot in terra incognita,
a fondly-folded bud where time doth bloom.
If one can see up to where it rose,
Paradise sways towards this uncharted way
the only guide, oft is a glimpse of Queen Fathima's eye!

The only asymmetrical golden ratio,
steps forth amidst the symmetrical prophet flock.
The earth makes way for her in awe,
as she moves in sequence with the golden lock.
Cloaked in mystery, she reveals
her unique, divine relation to the divine.
Makes measured moves at the forefront,
shining the light ever drawing closure to God.

She is so pretty and classy, a paragon of art,
a sunrise amidst the eternal night.
Her beauty is a burning fire in her shadow,
she is 'Zahra,' pure light, a luminary dynamo.
The only woman in heaven and earth with no shadow!

The great flock of women mirrors the earth,
following each atom on that angled girth,
aligned perfectly under the waxing full moon's worth.
As they approach the behemoth's might,
atoms beneath their skin explode in their finest sway,
and beneath Fathima's feet, vibrations take flight.

The ocean billows up, floating with the clouds,
Like choreographed dewdrops hanging low on the rose,
Ready to shower down on that hot spot like honey-drops.

Even the Moon on the horizon follows suit,
Ah, the lunar punter rows down, loves to sip in a drop.
the sleeping beauty wakes amidst the moonlit night,
silver dances in her eyes on every star in sight,
as the Moon sails down from its celestial height.
The seven seas sing out in the dark,
bubbling with exuberant fireflies' spark,
who gleefully rock the moonlit boat,
towards the cup of that pretty little drop.

Poetry in motion, the sea on the ground
a beauty reflected in the Moon on high
the storylines jump and dance around.
Painting the colors of the winds in the sky
over the shady grove, the rhythm goes on
rains down from the sky on that sweet spot
singing the sweetest of all title songs.

Never before was a woman a prophet of God,
but for the primitive woman, the leading lady,
the sharpest cut above the rest, the leader of the pack.
Sayeedatun Nessa, Queen Fathima,
Heaven holds no secrets, always an open mirror!

Secret is Fathima touched the bottom of the earth first
it's in her elements a pure unique one otherworldly love
the womankind scores that only entering paradise!
"There is no night, only déjà vu moonlight
the pious homemakers, these veiled tuberoses,
were hidden gems to the sublunary fireflies
who will be open moons in heaven's secret skies."
The Huris gaze upon mesmerizing beauty,
but their eyes turn to the real McCoy:
the women in paradise!

The universe debuts a primitive water dew,
Big Bang, soon Fathima drops in it her two hairs duo
enkindles the inner dark energy in the dark matter mole.
Absolutely pure, nature wakes up get the building rock
nothing like it never seen before, treasures in Earth's core.

The Queen's first impression hooks on
the motionless earth in the dew makes the first move
polished golden spiral is in bloom expanding ever more
the last thing the sun can't do can't take its eyes off
after the Big Bang big fireworks still (Ratqan) a black mole
thicker than the black moon, gravitates the cosmos! 

Walking in the dark ahead of the sun and the moonlight
one step up on that shady way the Queen cemented on,
perfectly circle pi-locks, the earth takes a Ma pause.
Until God willing Fathima's locks shall finally bottom in  
the long haul of time squeezing out paradise upside for good,
the heavenly Queen shines the light in the secret end of God!

The planetary ebb and flow are on the way heaven
the planet earth is the only steppingstone.
No matter how many times they try on
there will still be an unturned stone.
Until the very one, the original woman,
the Queen Fathima steps on.

Dots connect in her presence
the nadir and the zenith perfectly intersect
once for all that shall mingle in her perfect circle
without a labyrinth gap in the whole
making ‘As above, so below’ pure Scientia scenario.

Where the Queen stands on
heaven will open its grand door!
No more reverse engineering the original
God willing Fathima will step on
on the last turned stone.
From the very one greatest woman
paradise starts from there on
from beneath the mother’s foot!

She is so pretty and classy, a paragon of art,
a sunrise amidst the eternal night.
Her beauty is a burning fire in her shadow,
she is 'Zahra,' pure light, a luminary dynamo.
The only woman in heaven and earth with no shadow!

The great women flock mirror the earth
treading across every atom on that angle
perfectly aligned down the Moon.
Until those beneath the skin atoms
bang, explode, on approaching the behemoth,
the vibration beneath the otherworldly Fathima’s feet!

The ocean billows up floats with the clouds
like choreographed dew droops hanging low on the rose
just to shower down on that hot spot like honey drops.

Even the Moon on the horizon follows suit
ah, the lunar punter rows down loves to sip in a drop.
The sleeping beauty wakes up amidst the moonlight
silver dances eye on every star in the night
the Moon is sailing down.
The seven seas sing out in the dark
bubbling with exuberant fireflies
that would gleefully rock the moonlight boat
over to the cup of that pretty little drop.  

Poetry in motion is a sea on the ground
the same is known as the Moon in the sky!
The storylines jump ever more
on that way over the shady grove.
Painting the colour of the winds
the sky rains down on that spot
singing the sweetest title song.  

Never was a woman prophet of God
for the primitive woman the leading lady
the acute cut above the rest, the leader of the pack.
'Sayeedatun Nessa' Queen Fathima
heaven is no secret always an open mirror!
Secret is Fathima touched the bottom of the earth first
it's in her elements a pure unique one otherworldly love
the womankind scores that only entering paradise!
There is no night only Deja vu moonlight
the pious homemakers these veiled tuberoses
were the hidden gems to the sublunary fireflies
shall be the open moons in the heaven's secret skies!
Huris look on mesmerising beautiful
eyes on the real McCoy the woman in paradise!

The universe debuts a primitive water dew,
Big Bang, soon Fathima drops in it her two hairs duo
enkindles the inner dark energy in the dark matter mole.
Absolutely pure, nature wakes up get the building rock
nothing like it never seen before, treasures in Earth's core.
The Queen's first impression hooks on
the motionless earth in the dew makes the first move
polished golden spiral is in bloom expanding ever more
the last thing the sun can't do can't take its eyes off
after the Big Bang big fireworks still (Ratqan) a black mole
thicker than the black moon, gravitates the cosmos! 

Walking in the dark ahead of the sun and the moonlight
one step up on that shady way the Queen cemented on,
perfectly circle pi-locks, the earth takes a Ma pause.
Until God willing Fathima's locks shall finally bottom in  
the long haul of time squeezing out paradise upside for good,
the heavenly Queen shines the light in the secret end of God!

The planetary ebb and flow are on the way heaven
the planet earth is the only steppingstone.
No matter how many times they try on
there will still be an unturned stone.
Until the very one, the original woman,
the Queen Fathima steps on.

Dots connect in her presence
the nadir and the zenith perfectly intersect
once for all that shall mingle in her perfect circle
without a labyrinth gap in the whole
making ‘As above, so below’ pure Scientia scenario.

Where the Queen stands on
heaven will open its grand door!
No more reverse engineering the original
God willing Fathima will step on
on the last turned stone.
From the very one greatest woman
paradise starts from there on
from beneath the mother’s foot!
cheryl love May 2015
During the night, a dreadful night, a mole dug deep
deep and around my garden that I love
This cheeky mole then had the nerve to stop burrowing
and then surface to check the damage from above.
Up came his velvety head and sniffed the fresh air
parting my newly laid lawn like a digger.
Now he appears to be smiling the cheeky scoundrel
He is making the problem a whole lot bigger.
"Look what yo have done" I shouted "made a right mess
The piles of earth are everywhere with your coming and froing"
"With all due respect madam" sniffed the mole "what do
you expect when I cannot exactly see where I am going!"
"I have no map, no satellite navigation device, just my claws
I am just a mole and all that I can do is dig, I've no appliance
No shiny *****, no mechanical device, what do you expect
Honestly madam it is not exactly rocket science.
He tutted and rushed back down the hole leaving me
speechless and trying my best not to cry.
The mole had made his way underground by now next door
but my hard work was down the drain - I wonder why!
Kalesh Kurup Sep 2017
“Sir, this mole seems to be growing and spreading”
Suhail stopped the scissor and comb, and said
“It’s a bit grown than last month and even then, I noticed it spreading”

Suhail is my hair stylist for the last about six years
I have seen him growing from a Hair Analyst to Specialist to Senior Hair Specialist
There is something more than the generous tip that connects us
May be my willingness to abide by his experiments with my hair
Or reciprocation of loyalty that bound us every month

Surprised, I asked him, “What mole are you talking about?”
“Don’t you know the black mole on the back side of your left ear” puzzled Suhail
“You go and check with Madam, may be its my feeling only”

“How would madam know about it Suhail, she doesn’t cut my hair!”
“Arre Sir, you too!” Suhail had a vicious smile on his face
“Come on tell me” I prodded him with the same viciousness
We got into wayward pastime …

“Arre, Sir, they get to see it…
When you lay down on her lap in those afternoons
And she combs your hair with her fingers
And when you fall into that muddle of sleepiness and excitement
Her eyes would lock it”

“Arre, Sir, they get to see it…
When she comes from the back as on paws of a cat
Hugs and hold you tight with her hands
And press her face on your shoulder
Her eyes would lock it”

“Arre, Sir, they get to see it…
When those drenched lips move away from your lips
And the craving teeth leave a hickey on that earlobe,
Her eyes would lock it”

Suhail finished the haircut and I left tipping him as usual
The drive back home searched through the labyrinths of memories
Of caressing fingers, tight hugs and hickeys
Why didn’t she mention that mole, ever?

“Honey, you never told about that Mole,
Come on, let me see and let’s go to a Dermatologist quickly
We can’t take these things lightly; the doctor may even suggest a biopsy
Biopsy is fully covered in your mediclaim, isn’t it?”
“Arre” is a Hindi language term meaning “Hey”
there was a little mouse he just loved to stroll
he was always happy a friendly little soul
he just loved to walk along the forest track
passing on his time walking there and back.

oneday on his travels as he was walking by
from behind a tree he heard a little cry
mouse he looked around to see what it could be
he saw his friend the mole very sad was he.

mole he had got stuck when his hole fell in
poor mole was stuck right up to his chin
mouse began to dig all around the hole
to free his little friend poor little soul.

mouse he kept on digging till the mole was free
mole began to smile happy now was he
now he had his freedom he was trapped no more
then of they went together along the forest floor.
there was a little mole and digging was his pleasure
he took a little trip to try and find some treasure
he jumped on  a plane far across the sea
to a desert island where treasure just might be
he walked along the sand then suddenly he saw
a great big cross  marked out. on the island shore
mole began dig to see what he could find
if there was any treasure that someone left behind
the mole dug very fast at this he was the best
then there in the hole sat a treasure chest
he lifted up the lid and there before his eyes
there was lots of treasure all of different size
mole he was  so happy his treasure hunt was done
hunting for his ***** had give so much fun
A handy Mole who plied no shovel
To excavate his vaulted hovel,
While hard at work met in mid-furrow
An Earthworm boring out his burrow.
Our Mole had dined and must grow thinner
Before he gulped a second dinner,
And on no other terms cared he
To meet a worm of low degree.
The Mole turned on his blindest eye
Passing that base mechanic by;
The Worm entrenched in actual blindness
Ignored or kindness or unkindness;
Each wrought his own exclusive tunnel
To reach his own exclusive funnel.

A plough its flawless track pursuing
Involved them in one common ruin.
Where now the mine and countermine,
The dined-on and the one to dine?
The impartial ploughshare of extinction
Annulled them all without distinction.
Robert Lae Wild Jul 2012
These mountains are mole hills.
You barge into my room screaming society’s latest mistake at the top of your lungs.
Dancing about in my tiny box of electric vision; you create a black death hysteria.  
With my attention constantly demanded you work yourself into a fury, spinning about until your feet catch fire.
You run in circles building fiery mountains of scared, with peaks that appear to be the highest high.  
You used to sprint through my mind setting fire to each and every flower until somebody put it out with the watery truth of an ocean.
Faucets of facts pour down the mountain of my memory and flood the plains of my mind now.
You can’t set my meadows on fire anymore.
Oh no, these mountains you built are just mole hills now.
Smoldering heaps of mole hills.
there was a little mole he dug underground
looking for adventure the little mole was bound
he packed a little case  for his holiday
things that he might need while along the way
mole he started digging  for three months and a day
till the ground got hard he had hit some clay
then one final push the little mole was through
in this place so lovely a place he never knew
it was full of beauty  and  the sun was shining bright
the little mole was happy it filled him with delight
then he took a stroll in this adventure land
all along the beach playing in the sand
he was having fun on his holiday
in the land he found so very far away.
little **** the mole he was history bound
looking out for relics if any could be found
he dug through the fields digging very deep
to try to find some treasure that the mole could keep
looking for some coins from the roman days
maybe he could learn there habits and there ways
after quite a while an hour maybe more
he came across an object buried in the floor
mole he started digging till he dug it up
cleaned of all the soil he had found a cup
it was from the vikings that had once lived there
he had found a treasure that was very rare
he put in his sack and moved along once more
digging once again on his tunnel floor
then he found a ring it was made of gold
belonging to the saxons it was very old
mole he was so happy at the treasure he had found
hidden in his tunnel buried underground
he was very happy as happy as can be
now its on display for all the world to see
little bobby badger he just loved to roam
never settled down never had a home
he roamed every place  travelled here and there
looking for adventure each and every where.

oneday on his travels he heard a funny sound
it was very loud beneath the uderground
badger started digging to find out what was wrong
badger used his claws so very sharp and strong

there benath the soil he found a litte mole
poor chap was stuck poor little soul
dont worry said the badger just hang on to me
i will pull you out.then you will be free

badger he saved mole he had saved the day
mole he thanked the badger and went along his way
badger he was happy a hero now was he
remembers to this day the mole that he set free
Iraira Cedillo Mar 2014
The mole is blind, and under ground,
Snug as a nest her home is found;
She dwells secure,nor dreams of sight
What need of eyes where all is night!

The eagle proudly soars on high,
Bright as the sunbeams is his eye
To lofty rocks he wings his way,
And sits amid the blaze of day.

The mole needs not the eagles eye,
Unless she had his wings to fly
The light of the day no joy would give,
If under ground she still must live.

And sad 't would for the eagle be,
If like the mole,he could not see,
Unless you took his wings away,
And shut him from the hope of day

But both live happy in their way
One loves the night and one the day
And god formed each,and formed their sphere,
A d thus his goodness doth appear
By Iraira cedillo
there was a little mole he dug underground
looking for adventure the little mole was bound
he packed a little case  for his holiday
things that he might need while along the way.

mole he started digging  for three months and a day
till the ground got hard he had hit some clay
then one final push the little mole was through
in this place so lovely a place he never knew.

it was full of beauty  and  the sun was shining bright
the little mole was happy it filled him with delight
then he took a stroll in this adventure land
all along the beach playing in the sand.

he was having fun on his holiday
in the land he found so very far away.
there was a little mole he dug underground
looking for adventure the little mole was bound
he packed a little case  for his holiday
things that he might need while along the way.

mole he started digging  for three months and a day
till the ground got hard he had hit some clay
then one final push the little mole was through
in this place so lovely a place he never knew.

it was full of beauty  and  the sun was shining bright
the little mole was happy it filled him with delight
then he took a stroll in this adventure land
all along the beach playing in the sand.

he was having fun on his holiday
in the land he found so very far away.
Cheryl Jul 2018
Being in love with me, loving me
is like whack a mole
and I'm the mole
I keep sticking my head out, hoping for different responses
when invariably
I fall in love with really good whack a mole players

I wonder what happens when the mole wins.
I'm overly tired...lol
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2017
A fine mole down
the blue mountain sky
cannot be weighed out!
It's the cosmos's gold dust
the earthy depth triumphs.
Oh earth, our close clay-star
is far ahead of the day at noon.
Ahead of the moon
ahead of the Neptune!

With a million dash of curiosity
every new sunrise paints
upon her black box with the roaring fire.
Yet the ****** is a veiled wonder!

It has the plethora a room for everyone
and time for timeless times.
Guess, with her longhand
what an inside scoop did it pick out?

You too can be in the know
It's the feminine beauty all in all.
You may have by now
seen women million and one.
The earth is eyeing on only one!

Her closest admirer is the star
of the very luminary bunch
with open eyes in the hearts.
Her dead man is waking up
sniffing the daylight by her.
Yet to make the discovery
both are still wondering outside!
katewinslet Oct 2015
Moles is essentially an epidermis disorder prevalent to be able to kids, yet Many individuals will occur to prospects at everyone. Most about moles will be innocuous, but also in hard to find conditions, many individuals could become dangerous. A lot of us can be smooth or perhaps elevated. They sometimes are on spherical or possibly oblong and also smaller than your pencil eraser fit and healthy . Most people have among 0 as well as 40 of them flesh-colored, light red, tanners, and / or brownish zones on the epidermis. Brand new most individuals can be into mid-adulthood, also, since moles carry on approximately Five decades, some most individuals might fade away once you years. Keeping track of most individuals along with other colored pads is really a help the diagnosis of cancer of the skin mbt shoes clearance outlet, in particular dangerous melanoma. But not almost all melanomas acquire coming from pre-existing many individuals, quite a few come from or simply next to a fabulous skin mole or other dark appropriate your skin mbt shoes outlet. A lot of us are overgrowths within the skins coloring tissue (melanocytes). Many of us have them. A lot of us will not be usually provide located at beginning although can be purchased in younger years not to mention first teen years. With the time of 20 years Melbourne young people provide an average of greater than 55 moles. An important epidermis (as well as melanocytic naevus) is usually an unusual collecting color muscle present in the pores and skin. These kind of solar cells are melanocytes. Skin moles are really normal. So many people are given birth to with a bit of most individuals and also acquire some others during their life. Causes of Moles Melanin can be a natural and organic coloring which offers your body it has the colors. It is really manufactured in tissue called melanocytes, in some of the best core on the epidermis (skin area) or maybe the outer layers with the skin's secondly stratum (dermis). Melanin may be transported into the outside solar cells of the epidermis. Routinely, melanin is distributed evenly. A lot of us usually are complexion pigmentations and be dark-colored if come across the sun.

Many individuals would possibly not occur in to start with you receive already familiar with ultra violet rays, it's accounted from the time that you aquire subjected up until present. Perhaps you waken within a day that you really got many individuals within your body. Skin moles furthermore surface because of poor improvements brought on by puberty or perhaps gestation. By far the most being held responsible on your dangerous of experiencing a lot of us could be the sun's heat. The powerful Ultra violet rays the fact that lead to pores and skin sun burn accumulate on the skin area through the adolescence to offer leading to dangerous most cancers. Attending tanning saloons not to mention sunshine bed frames were proposed to cause a lot of us. Risking potential cancer cancer is definitely observed as soon as your skin color socialized in another way to discontinued mbt. Find out if your epidermis coloration ranges whenever a several colors. Your many individuals should really be not higher than 6 millimeters in proportion. A line of your most individuals has to be simple instead of tough brink.

Techniques for Healing Many individuals are ) Normally skin are usually simple in addition to protected not to include as well as doesn't will need treatment plans ) Sporting a good sunscreen lotion as well as minimizing also stops numerous a lot of us A few) Get rid of removal. On this solution, a family doctor numbs the vicinity about an important epidermis after which it operates on the all smaller sharp edge so that you can shave off that skin color mole all around skin. A number of) Put biopsy. Health care provider may take off a new pores and skin having a smaller incision or maybe deal biopsy procedure, using a compact cookie-cutter-like apparatus. Your five) Excisional surgical treatments. skin color mole together with a surrounding perimeter in nourishing body are actually restrict surgically
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little millie mole she loved to watch tv
to be a tv star she just long to be
starring in a movie or a  tv show
to be a famous star that everyone would know.

oneday she decided she would have a go
auditioned for a part in a tv show
she rehearsed her lines what she had say
millie got the part in a tv play.

she became a star of movie and tv
and became a star like she longed to be
a favourite of the people they just love her so
when ever they saw millie it gave there heart a glow.

they all loved the mole they came from near and far
just to get an autograph from this little star.
Random Beauty Apr 2014
For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.

For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; never throw out anyone.

Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of each of your arms.

As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a ****** mole, but the true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!
This poem was written by the late American educator-humorist Sam Levinson for his grandchild. It also happened to be one of Audrey Hepburn's favorite poems. She used it on occasion when she was asked for beauty tips.
K Balachandran Apr 2014
1.Language

Dissolved in a kiss
their eyes created
a new language.

2.Symbol

there was an eloquent
black mole
under her lower lip

3.Silence

The unruly crowd
fell silent
in her profound presence

4.Delusion

Her lover, an anthropologist,
suspected her as a new species!

5.Take bath now, not for cleanliness

Her bathing him wasn't
about cleanliness;
amorous explorations aren't.
Ma Cherie Jul 2016
Mr. Mole
stayed in a basement
but lived inside a tent
and everywhere that he went
took this cute little thing
he took under his wing
a hedgehog
named Olivia!

It was not really sad,
not really bad
Not terrinble at all
this basement it was finished
no comfort was diminished
some furniture and plants
this was his sanctuary

A little scary...
Mr. Music
this was his real name
no one knew and such a shame
no one he could ever blame
as he played guitar
she was quite tame
Miss Olivia
his life
he thought so lame
but at least he had her

and that were
true
until the day
Olivia said had to say Goodbye
only time
I think he cried
the day she left
the day she died
tears, fears...and years
streaming down his face

and then he sighed
her death implied
time to do other things
let people hear your voice, go sing
And so..
Mr. Music
he decided to go to work
duties no longer can be shirked
off in a Volkswagen Vanagon
Painting houses
As a star employee
worked at times, he did...for free
Dedicating his labor
to his Little Miss Olivia :-)

Called himself
a Mole he did
Never grew
up
that great big kid
he is still living this tale today
perhaps a slightly different way
without dear Miss Olivia.

Cherie Nolan© 2016
A funny, sad bit ironic little Tale and totally true :)
there was a little mole he took a holiday
he dug underground to land so far away
packing up some clothes and his little cap
took his little  compass and a little map
now the mole was ready he was in command
set of on his journey his route all ready planned
digging for a week he popped from his hole
reached his destination the clever little soul
on the shores of spain underneath the sun
playing on the beach having lots of fun
he stayed for a week and planned the year ahead
next time for his holiday would be america insted
there was a little mole a lovely chap was he
he lived in a hole beneath a great big tree
he like digging tunnels he would dig all day
kicking up the soil while going on his way
he left little hills scattered all around
where he had been digging while going underground
then when he got tired digging holes so deep
back to his little hole an then fall fast asleep
Bees build around red liver,
Ants build around black bone.
It has begun: the tearing, the trampling on silks,
It has begun: the breaking of glass, wood, copper, nickel, silver, foam
Of gypsum, iron sheets, violin strings, trumpets, leaves, *****, crystals.
****! Phosphorescent fire from yellow walls
Engulfs animal and human hair.


Bees build around the honeycomb of lungs,
Ants build around white bone.
Torn is paper, rubber, linen, leather, flax,
Fiber, fabrics, cellulose, snakeskin, wire.
The roof and the wall collapse in flame and heat seizes the foundations.
Now there is only the earth, sandy, trodden down,
With one leafless tree.


Slowly, boring a tunnel, a guardian mole makes his way,
With a small red lamp fastened to his forehead.
He touches buried bodies, counts them, pushes on,
He distinguishes human ashes by their luminous vapor,
The ashes of each man by a different part of the spectrum.
Bees build around a red trace.
Ants build around the place left by my body.


I am afraid, so afraid of the guardian mole.
He has swollen eyelids, like a Patriarch
Who has sat much in the light of candles
Reading the great book of the species.


What will I tell him, I, a Jew of the New Testament,
Waiting two thousand years for the second coming of Jesus?
My broken body will deliver me to his sight
And he will count me among the helpers of death:
The uncircumcised.

A mole on left breast;
She belongs to full of life; vigorous,
  Usually get what is needed
**
By
Williamsji Maveli
A Haiku on beauty of a left  mole
there was a little mole a funny little thing
while digging underground he just love to sing
you could hear him singing when he began to toil
his funny little song coming through the soil
he was very cute  with funny little feet
singing little songs to a funny beat
he would sing for hours as happy as can be
a lovely little chap a happy chap was he
there was once a rabbit a lovely little soul
he lived in the forest in a little hole
always very friendly and he was polite
very very clever and very very bright
one day on his travels through the forest ground
suddenly from nowhere he heard a funny sound
he walked a little further to see what it could be
it was his friend the mole trying to break free
the little mole was stuck his tunnel had fell in
all that you could see was his little chin
rabbit started digging around the little mole
to try and set him free the poor little soul
he dug for a while till the mole was free
thank you said the mole thanks for saving me
they walked off together along the forest floor
then fell fast asleep and both began to snore
Carol Rose Feb 2014
It is hard to articulate
The feelings that escalate,
From my heart to my brain
Seems to become stuck, as if in a frame
Despite a ready, eager mouth hole
Emotions burrow like a mole
Who only knows of one thing; hide
Dying with want to confide
But only showing an ego's pride.
Julz Nov 2013
Everyday there are moles
Lifeless rodents
Strewn about like some cat massacre

Sheba! Sheba is who brings theses gifts
Hunting at night
Leaving presents to be admired

What does she think about while in this pursuit of mole families?
Does she think?

Once, I saw a mouse being killed…

Today there were two
Yesterday one
Last week there were five on the patio

I wonder if there are warnings out in the mole community?
“Serial mole killings” they might say
Do they fear the dark now?

Dead moles, dead mice
Just death
there was a little mole is name was mickey finn
and inside a hole mickey he lived in
it was very dark there wasnt any light
mickey didnt know if it was day or night
so he bought a torch so he could get around
see where he was going while underneath the ground
like a little miner looking for his coal
he just kept on digging a busy little soul
then when he got  tired time to say goodnight
he climbed into his bed and turned out his light
Rickie Louis Nov 2014
I feel apart of me's gone missing,
I don't care if it comes back.
The love I have's bled empty,
I'm afraid it's turning black.    
                                              
I'm finished always wishing,
With beggars knees so sore.
The shooting stars are missing,
My hope is gone for more.      

I find I'm always focused,
Dwelling further down a hole.
As misery is lurking,          
I'm a broken hearted mole.
                                                                
I'm blinded and I'm searching,
By the one thing I can't find.
It's a warm place for my heart,
But it's messing with my mind.
Sorry for all the sappy poetry. It is what it is I guess.
Shofi Ahmed Jan 2020
(0)
Fly perfectly straight and high, and show the fly
out of the fly-bottle on your way.
Rise to victory, far above the blue sky,
and reap the reward: the opening of paradise!

The road ahead is clear and open this way,
with things small and big growing and disappearing up this way.
You will see sunrises and sunsets waxing and waning,
with mention of the moon and stars in the dark.
Be mindful as you sway, it's got to be laser-sharp.
There is no hard shoulder on this highway,
miss it by an inch and risk losing everything forever!

There is hope, there is light up high
pick up your paintbrush, just like the sun does
goodness knows how it sneaks in, right in the black
canvas of the night, painting the first light
lo, it shows up in heaven, the candle of the daylight.

As long as there is a man and a woman,
never give up, our canary bird can fly
rosy or not, the nest in every morn nets a sunrise!

(1)
A woman indeed plucks up the courage
she never had to look up to the stars
be it for the guide or the light in the night.
Fathima herself was the full Moon every night
is thanks to her Godsent innate light.

With it, she can bask in the full spread of the pi
on top of its short decimals mounting high
constantly as if countless stars in the sky.

The time and space under the sun
and that under Fathima's light
are far apart from each other
yet they coexist side by side.

As she points out,
"A circle is masculine
while pi is feminine."

Pi forms the circle with fine prints,
decimal dots continue to spring,
sprawling trillions of new digits,
the bandwagon is still increasing.
Connecting the dots is an untouched dream.

The full moon pi picture is veiled,
unseen at large, yet in short, 3.145 it can live!

(2)
Fathima flies her lock of hair
in the lurking air of the transcended pi
the primitive feminine does that,
no wonder she is God's secret feminine opus!
An immeasurable black hole lies in between
the short and transcended pi, running like a river,
dancing anew on every riverbank
in the many curls of Fathima's jet black hair.

She lent out a hair to the planet earth
and crossed over like a silhouette
without spilling out the colour
of the transcended end of the pi.
The earth takes it in the core in her heart
as if it would keepsake it forever.

Weaving the pi in Fathima embeds two hairs ties one
perfect circle at the back and one at the front of the universe.
Inside each hair the earth is finest fluid in the core
none is as deep as high as proportionate a perfect flow.
No time is as revealing no music is as sweet in this orb
no force is as mighty nor as prevailing a true giant
causing gravity and the heat at the earth's core.
Matter and spirit mix free in the play both wax lyrical
thanks to the pure resonance of 'Qun Be' the word of God!

(3)
The way to the earth's core is exposed to none other
save the Angel of Death the lucky one.

See both sides of the one lofty sky swathed in countless stars  
but the day and night render through still remains an unseen one  
Terra is shalet zeroed in Fathima is heaven on earth!  
Up in the sky-high bank turning the starry bowl upside down
Fathima took no star nor a pearl diving deep down the Arab water,
the brightest luminary came after Muhammad (PBUH),
in veil from the Night of Measures and into the flipside in the night
she's gone without lifting the veil but left her penetrating mark.

Few could find the shortcut contemplating on a blank canvas
the Moon looks down into the abyss down the sea eyes on far
for a mirror in the bottom on the as above so below matter
since Godsent Fathima touched on the all-inclusive primitive water.
The sun gets caught up in the very water dew she raised in the sky
the ancient fold of time still unfurls with the sun-kissed flowers
for the new hands yet the fingerprint on the sun remains only her!

Azrael heads to Fathima around the year 632 after death
touches down in Medina on his usual thin earth he steps.  
But this time a little mundane dust couldn't be thicker
he keeps descending deep down to the earth's centre
following from Medina but the angel locates her
inside the perfect circle a closed geometric figure.

(4)
Fathima is the female headline her secret is not all known
when she used to visit the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)
he would stand up for her hold her hand and kiss it
and seat her on his seat, she would do the same to the prophet
when he would visit her like they did know each other
in and outside the spheres of heaven and earth!

She is the embodiment of the infinite feminine variations
the first spiritual woman created following God's word Qun.
Her is the mother tongue of the ever diversified feminine lingua
no one woman on her own can rhyme with her alone
she has no peer her rhetoric is unique like none other.
The galactic run from planet to planet up on the starry ladder
climbing high up the mountain heaven yet streams out like oval
off their rock bottom stone until that unleashes the final run
in perfect circle delving into the rhythm of the loop at the centre
made of Fathima's hair charged by 'Qun' God's uncreated word.  

Prophet David can sing on the bank of the river
and can see the fish are jumping to him out of the water.
The masculine is open form, eye on everywhere,
but not her the woman is in juxtaposition her
all-inclusive schema supplanting the details rest only on her.
She is the unseen world within the world at best imagine her!
Guess, through this inwardly open door who might disappear?
It's nature before the scientist on ultimate discovery of the matter!  

Aligning with her down the rainbow up high the land absorbs
the grooming sky looking on the running rivers within her.
Her words spread through like the smart cloud that flies far
over the lands and valleys but not even the wind none other
gets a sniff of the potion and melody it caries until that rain down
without a hurdle without a visual she moves on at the target
such a soul needs no after death lift from the angel of death.

Before Azrael Fathima loses an arc of the circle then and there
so not the earth but giant Azrael can take the pressure!
Marked by a fluid discharge since then she is cooling this fire
In Shaa Allah God willing when she ajars it, it will be elixir!  

(5)
Draw a straight line, but it won't be perfect
it keeps bending, fly straight touching the sky
the flight path won't look like a straight line
it would be like the crest of a crescent moon
like curve touched the sky, like climbing up
atop the pyramid is not going high straight on
it goes up from the widespread seked slopes.

Moves in golden ration 1.618 not the full two
and gets the designing formula flawlessly full
micro to macro all levels all the way to the true north!    

Fathima being the original feminine eyeing at her
she can tap in the knowhow of naturally feminine nature.
And discovers the immanent pattern - the world
is pre-designed and measured is never a coincidence.
The creatures' creativity, scientist's science
is to follow, discover working formulas like phi and pi.

Play along it works until an unknown hour strikes
comes with accurate knowledge dead on time
numerically correct never miss taking a life away
as if it was calculated beforehand before the birth.
A newborn is born for a limited time
already set but no one knows when it goes up  
is a deadlock clock but it isn't so shrouded
in the blueprint of the creatures' grand design
there the clock ticks safe and sounds it never dies!  

(6)
Fathima hailing from the other side of the pool
eyes on the ever live pre-design side of the creation!
Then its corporeal face was only a water drop,
the primitive one looks see-through it has dead zero
knowledge of its lively other side of the pool.
She comes closer and perfectly mirrors both sides
that shines through on her reflected face on the water.
An absolute new image that livens up the dead part
Bang - Big Bang! The corporeal world gets the spark
explodes out from the very first drop of the water!

Fathima's appearance was miraculously instrumental
God reveals nature the finite and infinite, 0 and 1,
future in the present and the death and life in play!
Nature follows suit it just saw the perfect role model
banged out but only to its corporeal set
it aspires to be with its infinite reality yet!

Fathima leaves the door open constructing a perfect circle,
hardly straight, took the mixed bag of countless variations
she zooms into the abyss irrational portion of the first matter,
the primitive water drop and aces the circle with her hair
that nothing can equate throughout the corporeal world.
Done the math discovering the zero starting point at the bottom.
The ocean of digit numbers, the DNA of all things material
banged out of it, still, the zero is numberless irrational!

(7)
All things, within oneself and in a set constantly vibrate,
strive to align with the enduring reality of itself.
The atom vibrates to reach out to its immortal portion
that doesn't die and is in the know of its lower base.
The planets are in a defined circular orbit, accurately measured
just the apex on top of their dynamic pyramid the pyramidon
is tucked away; they too have an irrational portion in the circle.

With the finest spin, they zoom in the spacious universe,
in part and like the sun outside the constellations round they go
never miss a target line yet to re-discover Fathima's perfect circle
the origin of their digital essences' breakthrough
the door to their transcended destination de jour.
Lo the matter turns the last stone pulsing across the cosmos
the mortal horizontal spread, the spirit returns home.

The earth has a line in its swansong it has a place in paradise
it's not here to stay for good neither to perish forever!

Matters form and break without losing the rope,
it's not to paint the shades of the eternal blue
but to ace an irrational portion in the circle
at the heart of the earth, as above, so below.  
The deep the high the perfect circle
up and down the centre of gravitation for all!

At even and at odd the vibration within the matter is fluid
somewhere is parched there the arch matter must make a splash.
Far away on that dark beach, the full-fledged sea of the matters
outpours its billowy potion with the Moon on the frontline
from deep within the physical world's most glowed up firefly!

(8)
The seven seas swell up smoothly into the moonlight-dip
oh, the waterless Moon at the core is still fasting.
Led by time the sweet swan punting along the waves
streams down the watery inner circle of the planets.
Until stuck in the Moon no water in the last waterfront
but paradise is on the other side of the pool!  

The sun dips away into the night
while the eve baths in the shades of pink and gold,
the dazzling hues soon turn to taupe.
Drawing down painting the picture in full colour
only to find the time is up on the halfway,
yet to print a colour copy of the night!
The other unseen half is passed down to the Moon
tiptoeing in slow motion in the depths of the night
barely keeping the head afloat in a fathomless ocean
of shades of black hails from where knows no one.  

The sun enkindles the moon half-lit keeping itself away
amid shadows as if comparing the shades now it knows
a Mehrem a veiled female is ahead not to look on or
compared to that the sun has no light or true are both.

Wrapped in the eternal night beneath its black mole
once the moon on the front approaching most close
directly down to the centre of the earth eyes on
over that inlaid string hairy black perfect circle
never did it turn back the same gaze is still on
orbiting around the earth in synchronous rotation.

(9)
The never-ending night is becoming a night indeed
it's coming to an end so soon in our time.
In Shaa Allah I will see it with my eyes before I die
in the Night of Measures in an odd night in Ramadan
Fathima from the transcendental end of irrational heart
will turn on top of the curve opening for the first time
a 9-degree angle in the circle at the centre of the earth.

Instantly the leading force, time will get the first sniff
of the other world, so peaceful heart-melting serene.
Rapturous time feeling an ounce of the enduring peace
for the first time cutting all the corners with ease
will be propelled into its yet uncharted golden mean.
Scurrying to the peaceful abode time will be on its wings
across the globe, people will be stunned seeing
how first the times pass from then on incredibly quick!

Fathima, the first spiritual woman on duty, will start
pulling her hair back off the circle at the centre
Juxtaposed in between the worlds of here and hereafter.
She will take back every inch of it, the heavenly bodies
will feel the pinch of her every little subtle pull
that too is a boon helping them perfect their circle.

(10)
Soon she opens it just 9-degree wide at first
the Moon will see a glimpse of the first drop of water.
Without it, it's living perched without the water of life
that's destined to rain down soon and the Moon
back into its original pond shall revive!
Mapping the pi's whole infinitesimals playground
finally, Fathima will turn the circle upside down
on the dot the stunned sun shall rise in the western sky!

By now under Fathima's hair's shaded closed circle
it must have sailed far over the blue sky in the other world.
Billowing with the breeze over the sea of uncharted water
and stacking to the brim with all that it could discover
humbly stood like a cloud in that corner of the sky.

The time is finally ticking fast to rain down with love
paradise's welcoming schema rendering in waterpaint drops
on the Moon over the sea of matters, that's most glowed up firefly
ah, finally can break the fast sipping in a drop of elixir!
It's their heavenly adopted, Miʿrāj performed, primitive water.
The Moon with the seven seas will leave off the corporeal shell
gliding gracefully with this stately water nymph as if it never dies
and will make a splash plopping into the pond of paradise!  

For the matter ultimately is water and its extent is sound
Fathima will fetch it the water of life and take it to the next life!
Oh, the matter shall do both die and revive with Israfil's sound
the cloud will fly out of the dead water on the ground,
like the earth with chorus songs of the rain revives.
When that a melodious nymph in the water makes waves
see paradise is here the Moon over the sea can't take off its eyes.

(11)
Hang on though they all set ready on their horizontal span  
to pull in such a fluid yet colourful descending like a rainbow swan.
First chaste Fathima will evaporate her hair's perfume away
that's yet lingering in the water warming it up to its premium
no crowd then can see where this heady, fragrant cloud will fly!
There are the momentum and delights where that will alight.

Israfil might then blow his trumpet swooning the world away
the secret will remain a secret exception is said in the Qur'an.
A strange sound will silence the chorus of the innate digits
collapsing the floating cosmos bubbling on their music.  
The corporeal circle will collapse as if there is no base no pi
the melody of the first word Qun means Be will still be loud
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious so how can we all expire?

Israfil too will play his reviving trumpet pure mellifluous
and In Shaa Allah numerically perfect Fathima will rise
amidst the resonant Qun as like she did in the beginning
when except prophet Muhammad (PBUH) there was nothing!
Now the earth once zeroed in beneath her hair will follow her
the stunned terra will discover Fathima took her hair away
only to shift the constellation up onto the upper world!

The old songs of the planets the chorus of the digits will revive
from the zero bases in the core the digital panache that dance
planet upon the planet as if they are always at the perfect hertz.

Indeed that is yet to come, the arts of the fine layers
opening from the irrational pi, the finest one is to flower
when Fathima will unloop her circled hair at the centre
piercing the very immanent irrational cut
that no creation can fathom only the loving creator Allah
will turn odd to even in between the here and hereafter
then the ocean stuck in deep salt shall turn to enduring potion!
The As-Sirat shall turn to be the bridge to paradise
the body shall revive with the enduring soul forever
and with ah Fathima couple shall enter paradise In Shaa Allah
with the rhapsody 'all praise is for Allah' Alhamdulillah!
there was a little mole a funny little thing
while digging underground he just love to sing
you could hear him singing when he began to toil
his funny little song coming through the soil
he was very cute  with funny little feet
singing little songs to a funny beat
he would sing for hours as happy as can be
a lovely little chap a happy chap was he

— The End —