Loveliest memories the kids couldn’t eyewitness
When browsing their father’s tab, found a folder
The new couple were swapping the looks of sweetness
Fascinated with the scintillating moments of sober
When browsing their father’s tab, found a folder
Cognized, it was the wedlock ceremony of their parents.
Fascinated with the scintillating moments of sober
Giggled and watched till the end with adherence.
Cognized, it was the wedlock ceremony of their parents.
The new couple were swapping the looks of sweetness
Giggled and watched till the end with adherence.
Loveliest memories the kids couldn’t eyewitness.
Pantoum Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Picture: 3
Rhyme Zone
Date: 07-06-2021
Categories:
folder, marriage, memory,
Form: Pantoum
Emptying the Spam Folder
By Elton Camp
Whenever to check mail I go
There are few from folks I know
To keep my computer neat
The spam mail I then delete
At the titles I take a peek
Wrongly filed ones I seek
There’s one from dearest friend
Offering to share millions again
Then, all kinds of weight I lose
If their expensive plan I choose
A young woman wants me to see
Her erotic pictures supplied free
A fabulous prize I did win
Without putting my name in
All online I can get a college degree
Unaccredited, what good will it be?
My mortgage is late, they say
But I’ve had none many a day
A vacation I’ve been given free
Just go to their website and see
Your bank account is overdrawn
Your log-in details must be shown
We’ve frozen your PayPal account
Click here to increase your amount
The one that will never cease
Offers phallus size to increase
With a swift move of my hand
All such go to the garbage can
Categories:
folder, humor,
Form: Rhyme
I love my spam folder
as I grow older
for those who send
are not my friend!
So THANKS for saving me
from bankrupt destiny!
Categories:
folder, love,
Form: Light Verse
Paper is tucked
beneath your pockets.
One year old, it holds
silent secrets.
Secrets of how
she unraveled like
a ball of twine.
Some days she peeks,
sees the name and instantly
knows she’s not ready.
Words can heal,
on the right day,
at a precise moment.
Why was it red?
She can’t remember--
there were yellows maybe,
but red seemed more…
appropriate.
Some times the red is
a fear of the past,
but sometimes, it’s
just a connection
to the bloody scars of
a mistake.
Maybe tomorrow,
I can share your secrets.
Categories:
folder, life, on writing and
Form: Free verse