Deep within the twinkling
clouds lies Toylandia, a
magical island where toys
come alive.
Teddy bears wear tiny
golden crowns and dance
with beautiful, glittering fairy
dolls.
Toy trains chug along tracks
made of rainbow strawberry
licorice, blowing bubbles into
the blueberry sky.
Every morning, colorful
plastic blocks build
themselves into magnificent,
soaring castles.
Friendly dinosaur toys gently
carry smiling children across
rivers of sweet chocolate milk.
The trees are made of green
cotton candy, sprouting shiny
marbles and bouncy balls.
At night, soft wind- up music
boxes play a gentle, soothing
lullaby to the stars.
No batteries are ever needed
here, for pure imagination
powers the whole land.
The toys gather around a
warm campfire, sharing
happy stories and eating
marshmallow clouds.
It is a wonderful place of
endless playtime, where the
fun never, ever stops.
I am but a child,
Sitting in a
Garden,
Eating the dirt.
I told
The fairies what
You did
And how you
Hurt me.
I hope that
In another life,
You are an ant
And I am a child
With a
Magnifying glass.
Silence, silence—pin-drop silence,
Commands the teacher's voice.
Yet in the hush, the children scheme,
Their whispers soft, their hearts rejoice.
Even in silence, eyes convey
The thrill of games at end of day.
Their glances speak of plans anew,
Of bonds they’ll strengthen as they play.
With nodding heads and thumbs held high,
Cute smiles flash, some gaps reveal.
Twinkling eyes and brows that dance,
Their silent signals, joy unsealed.
In quietude, their thoughts align,
Ideas shared without a sound.
Children found joy in silent moments,
Understanding blooms profound.
For silence listens, silence speaks—
A language deep, beyond the words we seek.
It is not but a tiny ball of yarn I say as I roll it around in my hand then throw it away. The littlest furball sees it and squalls a hiss which made her mother even twitch. She pounced and rolled and bounced and scolded that teeny tiny ball of yarn until she molded it upon her four paws. Down on her back it was a balancing act which then brought a smile to my face in fact. Oh my goodness the cuteness and the pureness addresses each part of my heart. Her eyes alight as her brother jumps in or on if you will. Within a moment it is a torrent of hisses and scratches which the ball of yarn matches by somehow staying together. As the claws turn to paws each lies on their and pauses if only to draw more air. Then again it ensues two frisky kitties on the loose as the ball they did choose for theirs.
Being free happy and young
Having lots of playground fun
Merry go round makes you dizzy
You try to stand with your head wizzy
Teeter totters up and down
In the air and on the ground
Slides so big or really small
Going down is fun for all
Seeing how high you can swing
And jumping off like you had wings
Climbing across monkey bars
Seeing if you can get far
Crawling in tunnels is like a maze
Escaping in different ways
Lots of silly childhood things to do
I'm older, can I still do it too
SILHOUETTE (14/23) — PLAYTIME
Play prompts ploy
Surreal senses sway;
Craze configures
~~~~~
Here I dance
With each bright chance
In dreamy trance
As sense takes flight
In the clear light
Here I sigh
With happy highs
That cry and ply
For now fits here
In presence dear
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
08 January 2021
Singapore
Heads I win, tails you lose, what’s your excuse
to play the game joyfully, anyway?
Orientation tranquil, we each choose,
not allowing our attention to sway,
living moment to moment, day by day.
Our delight, lies in embracing surprise,
thus the now eternity, on the rise,
as we feel mindfully, each throb within,
from start to peak and until it so dies,
as at each instant, the play re-begins.
19-January-2021
Whose ball is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite happy though.
Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,
I watch her laugh. I cry hello.
She gives her ball a shake,
And laughs until her belly aches.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.
The ball is round, bouncy and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
After cake and lots of sleep.
Sweet dreams come to her cheap.
She rises from her gentle bed,
With thoughts of kittens in her head,
She eats her jam with lots of bread.
Ready for the day ahead.
Ceasing striving
Desiring nothing
Our existence
Playful innocence
Gently ambles
No ego that rambles
Our stillness
Agendaless
The bliss we imbibe
Words cannot describe
Moment to moment
Soma nectar potent
Heightens our ecstasy
In unending continuity
Inner emptiness
Magnetised in fullness
Throbs with power
Swathed in a bliss shower
Each pulse a climax
Without mental parallax
Arms open in embrace
Greets each & every face
In gleeful joy
Devoid of egoic ploy
Such is the is-ness
Of our being-ness
18-August-2020
Giggles fill the air
Children at play lost in their...
world of innocence
Date: 07/23/2019
Zest works best
Fest true quest
Fun seeds play
Run fits day
Show fond glow
Know fine flow
Laugh loud shout
Bluff shows pout
Style sweet smile
Pile each while
Wit funds hit
Bits that fit
Eat and drink
Fit verge brink
Eat some more
Feed deep core
Grab play thing
Nab sweet fling
Sleep on it
Watch dreams fit
Leon Enriquez
02 April 2019
Singapore
As God leads his lambs home.
I lead you to the slaughter.
His way is natural.
Mine is straight up murder.
No lie about it.
I'm the best their is, you haven't caught me yet.
Now the bodies will rise.
And the sadness will grow.
Whores and bastards, I'll cut them just as deep.
Just as deep as I will you.
Once you've crossed my path, you'll see light
nevermore.
Now their is nothing more to say.
I have to get ready to go out and play.
Shawn Gardner 03/31/'12
Miss Teri rolled in the clover
With neighbours Neil Down and Ben Dover
She loved to rehearse
Playing Doctor and nurse
When done she would simply start over.
Style then the touch of cheer that comes,
Intuit the feel of joy that spreads;
Mind mingles much in streams that sum,
Profound the will that echoes trade;
Live in the light of happy joy,
Embrace the truth that tells you how.
Peace funds fond sights in lovely ploys,
Love offers proof right here and now;
Align your heart as wonder blooms,
Yield then the surge of happy days;
Thrill that fine art as work fills room,
Indulge grand urge as movement stays;
Meet course and load as journey flips,
Endow rich roads with wealthy trips.
Leon Enriquez
16 November 2015
Singapore
It's the best part of being a kid,
creating worlds at whim, blasting
bad guys away, saving the world
for Mom, Dad, Nana and Pop-Pop.
When we grow up, we can't play,
though we try to, with sex, drugs,
booze or fast cars-- but playtime?
The closest we can get to it is in
our dreams. Perhaps that is what
dreams are: remnants of childhood.
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