There once lived a beautiful princess,
She was never afraid to run or ride,
She carried herself with benevolence and pride.
She had those gentle, charming eyes,
A face so naive, yet somehow wise.
She dreamt of doing only good,
And loved her people as she should.
She never longed for a throne so high,
Nor cared for jewels that money could buy.
She only wanted hearts that stayed,
And a better world that she could make.
She wanted to bring a change,
To mend a world that had gone strange.
So they sang, “Oh princess, wise and brave,
A heart so kind, a soul to save.”
But the men could not watch her fly,
They wished for her to fail and die.
They whispered softly behind the walls,
That kindness and equality could never conquer all.
They doubted her strength, pushed her away,
And slowly turned her light to grey.
Soon her voice grew soft and low,
Until no one could hear her anymore.
They threw her captive underground,
Where silence was the only sound.
She stood there strong, but not the same,
Her hope grew dim beneath the shame.
And then I opened my eyes, still thinking-
Weren’t fairytales supposed to have happy endings?
Our Opossum Has a Strong Propensity for Crime
By Frank Daub
Discovered in a backyard nighttime check –
an opossum wandering behind our garden shed.
Pin-pointed face, squinting eyes.
It did not run -- to my surprise.
Only staring, lighted softly by the porchlight.
Little.
Sleek in a white-gray-tan-straight-fur-slicked-down way.
The streets around are not friendly to its kind.
This unfair truth made up my mind.
I should let the shed-bottom harbor it.
This would require: FEEDING.
I decided the feeding plan -- without data-based reference --
would be workable.
I tried every sort of natural vegetable.
Walnuts added when the berries nurtured
hordes of ants --
Not
the opossum.
The dietary effort proved it.
Our opossum has a strong propensity for crime.
Particular it is to nighttime
sneaking forays - for food of course.
(This assured the legality of it for me.)
Our opossum was not particular to dietary do’s and don’ts;
Being just inclined to FEEDING its necessary wants.
The animal had a penchant – not a preference --
an exceeding zest for anything edible.
Incredible.
War over, the dust settled.
They thought they annihilated all the beauty.
Lone rose stood its ground.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2026
After some interaction twixt the lady above..I gained some insight.? Does it
Dim anything i cherish and love.? She's
A real Aussie battler folks..With her head
Screwed on.' And Lord she seeks recompense.' Just while shes going along
Find out more about her, for she will reach
Out.' Do i still think she is ( adorable.?) Yes without a doubt, she is great with her
Vo-cab..Sharp as a tack..Iyah i still back
Ya...Gurl stay on your track, I'm stilll an Aussie from a way back ya see..Maybe i
Was a little blunt.? But that springs from
What I owe, a great land, that made you and me..I know that you'll look in and read
Of my lines..Come back when you are ready gurl, i've got a dirt map and some
Plans designed.'
Day fades into darkness, I cannot sleep.
Like a labourer working the nightshift,
I am stuck in bed, everything still,
wondering what the next day will bring for me.
My last few hours are meant for peace,
yet my mind is loud with thoughts of,
What will they think of me?:
Will they say I am strong
because I won a fight in grade three?
Will they say I am smart
because I built a house at twenty-three?
Maybe they will say I'm weak
because I cried when she left me.
Maybe they will say I'm useless
because in the world,I never changed a thing.
They will say many things when death and I meet,
But on my deathbed,
All I want is to dream
As the life I had was enough for me
Rain strikes her bare face
She plants both feet in the mud
She faces the storm
Built to Bend, Refusing to Break
Some days, the weight is quiet,
a heavy coat you didn’t ask to wear,
sewn from words left unspoken
and the cold, sharp truth of feeling unfair.
It settles deep within the chest,
a hairline fracture in the stone,
a sudden ache that reminds you
how heavy life gets when carried alone.
You learn to breathe through the bruised spots,
to speak in a voice that doesn’t shake,
to trace the outline of your own ribs
and count the promises you didn't break.
Because strength isn't the absence of tears,
nor pretending the sharp edges don't cut—
it’s keeping your heart open to the light,
even when every instinct begs to keep it shut.
So let the storm do what it must;
it cannot wash away what’s real.
You are not made of glass to shatter,
you are the iron forged to heal.
You carry the hurt, but it does not carry you.
You stand, you endure, and you begin anew.
My dear, like the fragrant bloom, thou art health
and beauty to my soul, and blood to my
dry veins and starving marrow such free wealth
of life which for joy grateful eyes do cry.
Beloved, though far removed from me in years,
and distant in miles, thou art near in heart;
so, love is here and sorrow disappears,
for in spirit we're never far apart.
But though I'm exalted by your rare mind,
and find comfort in your warm words of love,
for which I treasure and so must remind
myself, that we shall always rise above.
Though I am weak, for thee I shall be strong,
my love, for we will triumph before long.
TRUMP NOT INTO YOU
CANADIANS WILL PULL THROUGH
YOU WILL SEE THAT TRUE
You walked through fear with shaking feet, yet still refused to know defeat, you are not broken you are brave, you found the strength your heart once gave, these walls now hold the space to heal, to learn again what safe can feel, the support here is so strong and true, will help rebuild the best in you, in this room there once stood a survivor too, unsure of herself just like you, today she walks with her head held high, her voice reclaimed her heart flies, so breath deep and take you're time, your healing is a journey and at the end youl shine, today is yours tomorrow too, a brighter life is waiting for you, one day you will look at what you have been through, and see the warrior born in you, your safe worthy and you belong, you have got this remember you are strong
The statue of a man is blatantly stand
Posture is evident
Oh what a man
~
Vertical virtue substance sustained
Spiritually ratified his vessel hooked on game
~
Fluently the world suggests stands a man, abreast
And yet man stands his tallest in his truest spiritural sense
~
More than I am just flesh a mere man flawed
In the truest essence, he is of himself, the image and righteousness of God
My spirit, My truest self stands strong and eternally tall
7/6/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026
Hold truths to all men!
Created by their Creator
with certain Rights.
Life, Liberty . . .
pursuit of happiness.
Secure
these Governments
among Men,
deriving powers
from the consent
of any Form of Government,
laying its principles
and powers
to affect their Safety.
I stand on strong shoulders
of those who before me
risked all so I’d never fall
Prey to hunger and hardship
~ or to the lie that I did it all
The street commenced,
and the unseen oval behind
triggered the turning heads.
The eerie breeze tested
the thin cotton’s hold.
With every careful step ahead,
the sliding eyes roamed.
A sight that stirred
the stillness of cloth
searched for the valley
where the night could lie.
Behind that valley
a trembling heart waited,
counting the steps remaining.
Waves rose and fell
within the restless mind,
reminding her
of the ship
that had once stayed strong.
Raising high to touch the sky.
It knows when yard day is,
shrinking its presence just this once,
matter of life and death.
When it’s time she becomes a new beauty,
stops imitating the sun for her
new cloud-like persona,
drifting carefree.
Strong like dandelion — I grow.
They’ll tell you she’s a weed,
that you shouldn’t want her around.
But if you accept her and all her glory,
welcome her and all her parts,
you might find out
she makes an awesome tea.
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