What makes me get up
is the strongest coffee cup,
and the enthusiasm to live a full day:
either indoor to write, or outside to play.
Watching movies is fun, but laziness stores fat in my belly,
sitting on the coach, eating potato chips and drinking cola;
junk food won't harm my body if used moderately...
is there a sunnier, warmer place than California?
What wakes me up is the noise of a robin
tapping on my foggy window with his tiny beak;
if he's hungry, he'll flap...if he stands still, it means it'll rain,
hoping I'll invite him in and warble another tune he learned down the creek.
Vacations are far away, late July on my calendar of active man...
choose North or South, snow or sunshine?
Go skiing, or play gulf all day then dine
at the nearest restaurant, but my choice would be zesty Italian.
Isn't my lifestyle exciting and busy, not envying the rich,
or resent the luxuries they can afford along with caviar and champagne?
My pleasures are simple and inexpensive, like the sandiest beach...
you can come along and experience the thrill of an enjoyable day in slow lane.
Categories:
sandiest, adventure, food, funny, happiness,
Form: Rhyme
Waking up to an ordinary day,
Usual routines with a headache not far away.
The annoyance of the hassle,
That’s too much to bear.
The lingering lines meandering here and there,
As each looked at the next, only to see a sight of despair.
Suddenly, as if the lights flickered on and off, I looked around,
For that moment I was swallowed by ecstasy.
It was beauty that left a scar,
A sting that penetrated the deepest fathoms of my heart.
I could not glimpse, only stare,
It was the medusa of love.
Her skin smooth as fresh milk,
And eyes of the sandiest brown,
Nails that gleamed like coral sands,
And hair that whistled like a gentle stream.
The lips were the rosiest pink, as if all the petals gave their colour to her,
Teeth white, as if Santa Claus had bought extra snow,
Cheek bones sculpted by angles,
And a smile that eclipsed the moon.
I stood still,
As if there was an artic chill.
I could not speak or think, for I knew,
This was not an ordinary day
~VRL
Categories:
sandiest, love,
Form: Narrative