Three Roses

As you might have guessed already, roses are my favorite flower. There is nothing as perfect as a rose in full bloom. And as quickly it blooms, as quickly it fades. So catch it while you can!

If my husband had not named my daughter Julia while I was still on the operating table, she would have been named Rose. I settled for Julia Rose.

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Passionate red rose
In all its glory unfurled
Perfect creation

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Pales shades of soft pink
Hinting of translucent tones
Of rose perfection

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Creamy white petals
Placed in perfect harmony
Forms delicate rose

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/three-perfect-shots/

Wrap-around Porch

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A Plot of Earth.”

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I would build a home with a wrap-around porch, furnished with chairs and jugs of sparkling water with slices of lemon added (instead of lemonade).

I would sit on the porch and admire the scenery, and finish all my half read books. Because now that I blog, I ain’t never gonna finish any of them.

United States

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Tourist Trap.”

I was born in Africa
And met family in England
I farewelled my mother in Scotland
And danced in Hungary
I have worked in Germany
And holidayed in Fiji
I have lived in Australia
But I have never been to
The United States
Next stop!
With Canadian Rocky Mountains thrown in

Any travel suggestions?

Domestic Violence

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/think-global-act-local/

I volunteer at a shelter
For mothers and children
That have fled their homes
The strength of will, their
Strength shines through
To these women, rebuilding
Their lives, I salute you

Inventing Peace

Car Robbery

Disclaimer: this is my personal post of which I am entitled to my own opinion
Not a political statement of any sort
I do not wish to post controversial posts
That is not the intent or purpose of my blog

If I could I would
Un-invent guns so we could
All live without fear

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/undo/

Fruit Salad

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Five a Day.”

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I would choose berries,
Mango, melon, kiwifruit,
Grapes and ripe cherries

Multiple Me

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Clone Wars.”

The first of me would write poetry
The second of me would be a Mum
Or maybe the order of those would be
Swopped around, leaving the third of
Me to work in Information Technology
And the fourth of me to project manage
The multiple versions of Me – one, two and three

Ode to a Weaver Bird

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/cupids-arrow/

Oh how I do love the sheer beauty
Of thy sweet harmonius singing
Each day welcoming me gently awake
Thy songs sounding in melodious
Harmony filling my awakening senses
With the peaceful serenity of the
Joy of hearing the essence of thy
Beautiful being. Oh! Dear bird.

I watch from afar as thou weavest
Thy nest, one thin thread at a time
With absolute precision of the finest
Toolmaker that ever lived, mastery
In all its perfection, weaving in and
Weaving out, creating thy home from
From nothing but nature’s ware and
Thy finest talents. Oh! Dear bird.

With patience unending, for when thy
Wife is summonsed to inspect and
Ruthlessly tears apart the nest
Oh how I my heart breaks for thee
And I watch as thou wouldst take
Another twig, from the dawning of the
Day till the setting of the daily sun
Thread by thread. Oh! Dear bird.

And finally when thy home is built
And eggs are laid, I watch in awe as
Thy family is raised, always caring
Always busy, filling nature’s need
Nature’s worker, Elegant, golden bird
And when thou would rest, when there
Are spare moments to admire thy
Beauty, I catch my breath. Oh! Dear bird.

The magnificence of thy golden chest
As it takes each breath to form
Magical notes leaves me breath-
Less, my heart is in awe of thy
Starkness, perfected feathered wings
Opening to take flight as thou wouldst
Leave thy home and fly away venturing
Forth into the world. Oh! Dear bird.

Sliced Bread Haiku

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The best thing since sliced
Bread is a bread maker to
Bake fresh home-baked loaves

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/sliced-bread/

Vuvuzela

I felt the distance in my heart
The year my son turned seven
And my daughter became four
When so many countries united
To blast their sounding vuvuzelas
While the teams ran onto the field –
Running onto the land of my birth
With sadness, I watched from afar

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/buffalo-nickel/