Who wants to be the King of the castle when you can be the Queen?
I believe that us women are capable of anything
We can reach for the stars if we want to
I’m in my soft girl era right now
I’m living the soft life
A day at the spa will get the job done
After a long day a pedicure and manicure can take the edge away
I’m not fighting with anyone
I’m blocking all the hate and bad energy away
I’m putting myself first and living in my feminine energy
Soft life is the lifestyle
I’m glad I’m embracing the woman they I was meant to be
Soft skin
Long hair and smells so elegantly
Soft life is where I want to be
I embrace the soft life
It is definitely meant for me
I might be made to endure a hard life but I deserve a soft life
There's a flock of squabbling gulls
perched on a garden shed roof,
twenty or so vying for space on that limited space.
Every few moments one gull will dethrone another.
The displaced gull will circle above the shed,
then dive down,
to loudly eject another avian squatter.
Is this a war game?
I recall, as kids
we would play King of the Castle.
It was always such raucous fun
until a fight between us boys broke out.
Bloody noses and boxed ears
were our own kind of war play.
The gulls ruffle a few feathers,
yet sharp beaks are ever ready
to strike.
Rehearsing a laughing violence
while plotting to murder a phantom king
is not only a human game.
It's time to write a poem
What time, you ask, is that
It's time when the world moves you
Time to put on your poetry hat
It could be a spectacular sunset
Or a pale moon astride the sky
Perhaps it's the vastness of the ocean
Or a bald eagle preparing to fly...
It's time to write a poem
Whatever time might that be?
It's time when you feel an emotion
So strongly the world just has to see
You may be sitting on top of the world
The King of the Castle, so to speak
Or drowning in pools of despair
Convinced that all hope has gone bleak...
It's time to write a poem
Whatever can occasion that?
It's time when you experience an event
You rate as purely Heaven-sent
Perhaps it's a concert or a great play
Or even a stirring speech
It might even be brave surfers
You saw catch a wave to the beach...
Yes, it's time to write a poem
What's that? -- you don't know how
Just lift your pen and tell your Muse
The time for my poem is now
King of the castle
Proud and arrogant
Prowls at night
Spends days alternating
Stretching and sleeping
Following that perfect
Internal clock for feeding times
Totally content with the dullest routine
Dreading jolly interruptions
Those busy festive family rumblings
So many extra people roundabout
All that crazy horsing around
Cat goes about his business
Staying out of family politics
Pussyfooting through the minefield
As I wisely follow his lead
AP: 3rd place 2020
Submitted on October 16, 2017 for contest PREMIERE No.105 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND
Donald who hails from New York
Has banned those who won't eat pork
He intends to rule by executive order
And to build a wall on the Mexican border
And we thought he was just full of talk
There once was a Yankee called Trump
Whom so many thought a real chump
Now that he's President
And the White House resident
Down to earth they've come with a bump
Rabbit,Badger and Ribbet the Frog.
Once upon a time in the cold land of bog
lived a Rabbit, a Badger and Ribbet the Frog.
Now you might think it odd in the cold land of bog
A Rabbit and Badger living with Ribbet the Frog.
But the King of the Castle he had three sons.
All fat and lazy didn't get much done.
So the King of the Castle got angry one day.
He decided it's time to send them away.
He called his Magician to cast out a spell
and send them to exile, so no-one could tell.
So early one morning the Castle surrounded in fog
he made up his Potion to convey them to the cold land of bog.
So goes the tale of the King and his sons
on the Kings command under Magicians spell
three sons sent to exile where no-one could tell.
Cast out afar in the cold land of bog
were Rabbit, Badger and Ribbet the Frog.
A man is king within his home
and women stand in line
to meet his every little need
and bring him food and wine.
I only cook and clean and that
when circumstance dictates
I have to give my ears a rest
from that which irritates.
I have a nagging feeling,
no its really more a drone,
that the weapon used by female kind
persists in every home.
To get some peace and quiet
it’s the male decides each day
to help out with the housework
so the noise will go away.
We have to find our female side
and play this age old game,
we know who the real 'master' is
its always been the same.
A man is king within his home
these words were said in jest
So have no nagging doubts 'man'kind
it's women rule the nest!
Ivor G Davies
~*~
Father gave me life
his love fills my heart with joy
my Daddy is best
~*~
the roar of the crowd
the crack of the bat it’s gone
baseball Dad and me
~*~
celebration day
he’s the king of the castle
Father’s Day today
~*~
sad rain chills my bones
the strength he gave holds back tears
Heaven is his home
~*~
he lives on through me
his proud name I will carry
Junior’s destiny
~*~
a message from Heaven words from my Father
he always had the last word
and still does those words are
"Father's Day"
~*~
~~**~~
you are days my glowing bright daze
you are my night my shinning armored knight
you are my son my daily rising sun
you are my peace you are the final piece
Every day is Father's Day
~~**~~
Inspired by the song “In the living years”
I’m not certain when it happens.
When the high fidelity stereo of a youthful past
Drowns in the monophonic static of tomorrow’s responsibilities.
When cowboys and indians or cops and robbers
Become traffic tickets and the politically correct, Native Americans.
When the king of the castle ends up under a mortgage and tax escrow
Owned by bank and government alike for standing strong on a playground boulder.
When the real fear of catching cooties from the girls at recess
Gives way to the real fear of catching cooties from girls in your bedroom.
But it invariably does.
You wake up and notice something interesting about mirrors.
Your reflection isn’t there anymore.
That person doesn’t know that fruity pebbles taste better than bran flakes.
That pens and pencils are made for drawing, not writing checks.
And crayons are better still.
That person has forgotten that mornings are to be celebrated
And bedtime is another way of spelling tantrum time.
That person is a grown up.
And certainly, that person isn’t you.
Are they?
04/24/15
Watching you clean our pool
On a hot, summers day
Admiring your muscular, tanned body
Your butt looks cute in those shorts!
Strutting around, like your king of the castle
While, I slip into my new, red bikini
Rubbing coconut oil, into my skin
Putting my long, blonde hair loosely in a bun
Leaving a few strands loose
One last twirl, in the mirror
Before walking down stairs
Taking a closer look, at this fine, male specimen!
“Mmmm”
You look even yummier, close up!
Your shirt wide open, baring your manly chest
A big smile, as you greet me “Hello”
Delighted to see me
Your full package, clearly showing!
Untying my bikini top
My full bosoms, on display
A flirtatious smile, your eyes, widening
I dive in the pool, inviting you in
Be carefree, be spontaneous
You only get to live once!
As morning arises and grogginess continues to overtake
The smell of something brewing suddenly helps one to awake
Stumbling Down the stairs with eyes sunk low
A Sweet aroma lets each subject know
That sips of glory are just about to be there
The tortuous suddenly becomes the hare
Black with sugar some days cream
A symbol of the American dream
Oh how the warmth flowing down ones slide
Quickly sparks a mental drive
Cup half-filled than a cup filled to the top
The day starts off with this essential stop
To the kitchen with excitement at hand
Only a true coffee drinker would understand
Roosted beans with a variety of flavors to fit each soul
Charged and ready the consumers goal
The king of the castle
The queen of the pot
I pity the person who goes shopping Sunday and Monday morning realizes what they forgot,
So thank you God for roosted plants that deliver stimulation,
And early morning motivation,
A College student’s dearest friend,
For once you start drinking coffee you’re never going to want it to end.
written by:sabina nicole
king of the castle
master of all I survey
my territory
panoramic view
rough stonework castellation
fresh breeze, muffled sounds
see people below
most will not/cannot see me:
ancient castle’s ghost
Jack Horne