I need another doe-eyed Doña Lola,
a tungsten-hearted torturer of men.
I crave a further fling at love’s tombola,
to beard the lioness inside her den.
Of course, it always runs into the buffers:
their sex is unremitting, unforgiving:
but he is truly fortunate who suffers:
to be in love again – that’s really living!
She must have bags of charm, and must deploy it.
I want to give my heart, have her destroy it,
or better still, to gouge it from my chest,
for when my love is spurned, I’m at my best.
I get to pout and pose, and blue-eyed-boy it:
and if the truth be told, I quite enjoy it!
One part sugar, three parts fruits
One part zest
Pasticcio: a good blend, finesse
Outside
A Nightingale sings a sweet song
For its chicks still in the nest
Her toddler holds a wooden spoon
Ornate
A fine purchase
"Look"
She points
At the empty jars
On the window pane
One day
Her toddler will fly the nest
Like feathering chicks of the mother nightingale
Wide horizons awaits her
Now
They will mix the jam
For Jam Jar Tombola
Yasemin Balandi
Bring me excitement the fun of the fair
Roaring with laughter at the fun house's mirror covered walls
Excitement at riding the merry go round
Acrobats juggling, you just cant help put stop and stare
Tombola prizes tucked under arms
Hotdogs with onions, and mustard stained cloths
Tickets to ride and memory's galore
All of the laughter and music combines
Kandy floss moustache's on pretty girls smiles
Illuminated stalls with there flashing neon signs
Nothing compares to a night at the fair
Great for your soul and it leaves you breathless for more.
comp entry 0903/2016
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