Allsorts

A wound so deep, a scar so wide,
A bitterness I couldn’t hide.
It stole my peace, it broke my soul,
But forgiveness offers sweet release.

At least, that’s what he claimed,
But for me, he’s gone, erased, unnamed.
Forgiveness can’t undo what’s been done,
Nor bring the peace that weighs a ton.

It doesn’t turn the tears to dust,
Or fix the trust that turned to rust.
The scars remain, they never fade,
And no gift can ever trade.

So forgive, but don’t forget,
You’re the one who carries the regret.
We forgive, not to make things right,
But to find peace and end the fight.

My dog likes to run
In the bright sun.

My dog likes to nap
Right on my lap.

My dog loves to eat
A very delicious treat.

He likes to go to the park,
Where he loves to bark.

He likes to swim
With his friends Kim and Jim.

He enjoys having fun
While I get this poem done.

There was an unintelligent dog.
He accidently sat on a spiky, hairy hedgehog.
He barked in pain, but he said he had no brain.
He went off to find food but came with a big attitude.
He hoped for good luck and got stuck.
The dog thought he should sit down,
~but he had a big frown.
He went to sit down and thought about his life,
but once again the unintelligent dog sat
on a spiky, hairy hedgehog.

Ohio is sigma
Ohio is him
Ohio pigga sigma
Ohio is him
When I saw Scooby for the first time
I started crying from how good it was
It was so sigma

In the shadow of the streets

Beneath city lights, a sombre tale unfolds

A worsening problem, we can’t ignore

Invisible to the bustling crowds,

Let’s take a moment and listen to their plight

The agony of hunger coupled with bitter chills,

Freezing extremities and dreaded shame,

The smell of desperation engulfing souls,

Reliant upon the mercy of strangers,

Poverty stricken, grief ridden,

A handout here, a handout there,

Their homes the streets, their beds the ground

No worldly belongings bar a blanket for shelter,

A beacon of light in the form of a food bank,

The look of pity from passers by,

Led here by a series of unfortunate events,

Now searching for hope beneath the stars

In shadowed alleys, dreams lie cold,

Governments come and governments go,

Homelessness still rife across communities,

Struggles ignored in a world so unkind!

Refrain from turning the other cheek,

Let’s open our hearts and lend a hand

Offer solace to those seeking refuge

Let’s heal, shelter and be a friend.

The wind it whispers in the trees
It flows by the gentle breeze
It whispers secrets of the ancient past
Only telling to those who ask

The wind it whispers in the seas
Pushing the waves so merrily
It whispers to people, messenger of the gods
Helping people and animals like cats and dogs

Now if someone says, “I hate the wind,”
Tell them about the secrets it gives
And tell them about how lucky we are
That the world can spin

I adopted a gorgeous milky-white cat
Who looked curiously around when she sat on her mat.
Then her eyes landed on a delicate vase.
Filled with courage the cat scanned the room like a maze.
Slowly she crawled around the loads of books
Finally the cat reached the end with proud looks
Cautiously, she tip-toed her way around the vase.
Mischievously she knocked the vase off shelf.
I grabbed her tight while I walked around the maze.
The cat rested on my arm thinking of herself.

There was a cat
And a very big hen
And they didn’t like each other
Or ever play together

One day, the hen changed its mind
And went to play with the cat.
The cat said, ‘No!’ and walked off, far away,
Nowhere to be seen.

The cat came back in rage,
She shouted, ‘You shall be thrown in a cage!’
But she changed her mind
And finally played with the cat

 

Max, Mouse and Rosie are three little ponies.
They prance all day and like candy canes.
They run so fast, and can’t go to sleep,
because they want to run all day long.
They prance like they are dancing.
They can’t stop, because their legs have to move.
They sleep in the barn and play in the yard.
They eat a lot of hay so they act kind of crazy.
They are so sweet, they let me feed them.
They are so kind, that I almost got a ride.
They couldn’t go, without a kiss to blow goodbye.

Green is not always mean
Green is the colour of trees not bees
Green is in some food that’s good
Green is the colour of some wool and is sometimes cool
And I now it’s time to make it rhyme….
Green is sometimes bad which makes me sad
Green is in goo but doesn’t moo
Green is there at times but not the colour of American dimes
Green is the colour of a vine, green is really mine
Green is the best and it beats the rest…