| |
|
|
185.
|
A Typical Kiwi Christmas...(wooo...bring it on...smiles)
Summer is finally here
As we get ready for
Our Christmas cheer
White sands
Bright sun
Blue seas
Ah a typical Kiwi Christmas day
Burning barbies in the sun
Sizzling meat marinated over night
Pulling out our picnic treats
Drooling over our Christmas brunch
Families gathering for Christmas cheer
Oh what a wonderful way
To spend on Christmas day
Watching the kids
Having fun in the sun
Volley and cricket
And bulrush and touch
Just relaxing enjoying the day
Family opening presents
With glee Christmas to me
Is fun in the sun?
© Copyright Kaila George 2012
Kaila George
Read more poems from Kaila George >>>
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
186.
|
What the Desert Misses Most?
I insist.
The sun rises
from the far east
thus, too hot too furious
upon reaching in the middle east -
the ascending-descending peaking
point of the sun's furies rays
no wonder
why middle east is
indispensable a dune
of hot dried desert
It never see
how the sun rises
with its cool glowing rays (far east)
It never witness
how the sun rests
with its dying purple rays (far west) .
nothing to be insisted.
rommelmarkmarchan beyond poetica
Read more poems from rommelmarkmarchan beyond poetica >>>
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
187.
|
Dusky Skies
The luscious sun stretch golden rays
A radiant glow sets skies ablaze
Dancing flames like a sun kissed leaves
Pastil blends in a sky that bleeds
The drawn sun gradually descends
A treat from god when each day ends
A mystical sunset red rose to pinks
Crisp brown and purple as the sun sinks
Wind brushed clouds in lurid skies
A hazy mist begins to rise
The day and night are shortly coupled
A magical display when both are muddled
Prowling darkness gradually creeps
Blackness looms through silent streets
The mysterious night is now at bay
And Sealed the end of a perfect day
nic hillen
Read more poems from nic hillen >>>
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
188.
|
Sonnet for the Sun
Like the shining sun you light up my day
Your sunlight is my heart's constant desire
To breathe it is your beams that I require
So to the sky I turn when miles away
This false sun must suffice to my dismay
For no light burns as does your tender fire
And no other sun lifts my spirit higher
Than you whom I could never repay
Time, Space, and Distance are against us dear
Yet I worry not, for I have the sky
To remind me of my sun and make clear
That his streams lift me up, carry me high
To again be with him, nothing to fear
For our love is a limitless supply
Rose Whittington
Read more poems from Rose Whittington >>>
|
| |
|