You say my name
It drives me insane
My soul’s been unchained
My heart’s up in flames
I can’t stop staring
I’m losing my bearing
You’re so sweet and caring
Even when you’re swearing
I stand idly by
I feel like cupid’s spy
How do I catch your eye?
Point the bow up to the sky?
I love the way you walk
I watch you like a hawk
I hear the way you talk
It makes me wanna stalk
I belong in a cell
In my mind you dwell
In my heart you fell
I’m obsessed oh well
The light switch flips
I think of those lips
Your hands on my hips
We touch fingertips
An Aquarius man
You were never the plan
You’re as bad as the klan
But you’re sweet like flan
Slaughter me like a lamb
This love could be a scam
But I don’t give a damn
I’ll be your biggest fan
If it is written, so be it,
but who'll admit
to writing what was writ
when the fan is hit?
And, if, having inscribed,
the finger does proceed,
whose digit was it
when the words were decreed?
Yet, carved in stone,
or etched on glass,
who'll confess to pouring such concrete
when it comes to pass?
SLEEPING WITH THE FAN ON
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Texas, where summers are more than hot,
Sleeping with a fan turned on is a must-have spot.
With a whirl and a breeze,
It brings sweet, cool ease,
While we snooze in a sweat-soaked, warm cot!
We sleep while it spins with a roar,
As sweat drips and puddles the floor.
With a chuckle, we say,
"Goodnight, heat of the day!
Tomorrow, we'll battle once more!"
So if you should visit the Lone Star State,
Know the heat is an oppressive weight
Just find a big fan,
Join the cool Texan clan,
And together we’ll laugh at our fate!
Seeing their faces and hearing their voices,
Keeping track of their whereabouts, all the places,
Gossiping and commenting about their life and choices,
Plastering pictures of them all over your walls,
If you had their number, you'd make dozens of calls,
You love to devour any hot news,
Everyone has his or her muse.
May we be blessed as we build the fire that lights our life….
to surround ourselves with people here about…
Who are there to fan the flames…
not put that fire out.
She is every woman,
Bringing love to her man,
She shares erotica,
Ever so wundebar,
She is wife to all men,
Loving chick in his zen,
She can birth, she can bleed,
Cook, nurse, love indeed,
She has the ear of God,
Ere power walk over sod,
She is every woman,
Hope you wave that fan!
Tweet tweet tweet
I hear the birds speak
I wonder what they say
Perhaps it’s a song
Or a prayer strong
To welcome golden day
The sunshine glows
And wouldn’t you know
By their cheerful chirps
Perhaps they’ve learned
To get the early worm
And whistle while you work
I lay here nude
Enjoying their tune
Of rainbow inflections
Tan ceiling fan on
Creating my own song
Sunny disposition suggestion
Good morning soupers
May you all be troupers
As you earn that early worm
May you keep hope
With or without clothes
As the world turns
photography is an obsession of mine
love taking snaps by design
the capturing of moments that align
my passion for chasing sunshine
and seeing how its beauty imitates the divine
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
In April, the Chicago Cubs almost always play Scrappy ~
Come late July, their 'S's' fall off and then they play Crappy
What can I say.? Look it up..Is my advice..Why not make your visit
Today.?
Tempted into wrong way,
Diverse team held sway,
Keen fan did sag,
Boys had lost the flag,
Old team won, glory beamed,
Traitor was back, it seemed!
This is my fan letter,
You make souls better,
To me, you're a sign.
Love, yours and mine.
Our hearts do entwine,
Rain or sunshine,
Now we recline.
Love duly thine!
A gently warm fan
In the subtropical night
almost refreshs sleep
If you don't mind I'd like to come and watch you when you play
And think of all the possibles that we could have someday
I wouldn't make it obvious, I'd sit way in the back
And though I'd want to scream for you instead I'd simply clap
A tear may fall but that's because you sing so beautifully
You touch my heart in ways that can't be seen, invisibly
And though I know we might not ever get to be a team
I'll still come to all your shows and I'll still keep the dream
Breeze lifts every word,
You follow where my heart goes—
Are you still my fan?
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