Colourful Camden
Today, I found myself in Camden Town;
I had time to spare, so I looked around.
It was a place that I had not visited before,
But it's a part of London, I'd love to visit more.
That area of London has a great atmosphere;
It is packed full of fun and full of real cheer.
Everywhere I went, there were massive crowds;
The colours and the sounds were extremely loud.
There were stalls selling food from around the world;
Stalls that sold everything, from books to fake pearls.
There was furniture, footwear, and patterned throws,
Cards, collectables, candles, and all kinds of clothes.
I could have had almost any type of food that I desired;
My taste-buds were tingling, and were almost set on fire;
Of colour and smells and sounds, there was a total riot;
The atmosphere in the marketplace was anything but quiet.
In summer, to the canal-side, many people like to flock:
They love to watch canal boats going through the Lock.
There were people with colourful clothes and colourful hair;
If they looked a little bit different, they obviously didn't care.
The Marketplace itself, is most definitely a real trend-setter,
As you can eat lunch sat upon the seat of a real Lambretta!
The aromas of food and perfume, I really loved to breathe.
There was part of me which really did not want to leave.
In those surroundings, all my senses felt so very enlivened;
My experience has made my mind feel much more wizened.
Of life within Camden Town, there is certainly no lack;
I so loved it there, and, one day, I will definitely go back.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Train To Waterloo
I can see the 10.06 train heading towards Waterloo,
And, I wish I could jump aboard, and go there too!
I have a real longing to head on up to London City,
But I have to go to work today, which is a real pity.
In spirit, I’m also riding with the people on the train,
But, here, in this sleepy old town, my body remains.
I can imagine myself sitting there in a train carriage;
With London, I have formed a really loving marriage!
To be one of those lucky passengers, I am yearning;
So much so, that it feels as though my heart is burning.
I can imagine sitting on a train, which is really packed,
As it heads up towards London, along the railway tracks.
I’ve lived here, all my life, in this sleepy little town,
Where there is hardly ever anything really going down.
But, in London, there is always something going on,
Amidst the Capital’s seemingly never-ending throng.
I so love being there, slap bang in the middle of it all;
Surrounded by crowds, the river, and buildings so tall.
Compared to my town, there’s a different atmosphere;
It’s more exciting, more happening, than it ever is here.
The sights and sounds, in London, I so love to savour,
And breathe in the aroma of a whole world of flavours.
To go to London very often, sadly, I just can’t afford,
But it still doesn’t stop me wishing that I was aboard.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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London
My visits to London always bring me cheer;
I wish it were possible to bottle the atmosphere.
I would collect together all the sights and sounds,
And surround myself with them, when I’m down.
A trip to London always seems to lift my mood;
By good old London town, I’m easily wooed.
There is always something new and exciting,
Which is why, to me, London seems so inviting.
I may begin a day feeling just a little bit down,
But once in London, a smile replaces my frown.
It’s one of my very favourite places to be;
There’s always so much to do and to see.
I think that London is such an amazing place;
It can suit all your needs, whatever your pace.
In central London, people are always in a rush,
But in the gardens and parks, can be found, hush.
When in London, I always feel on such a high;
My problems, for the day, I can kiss goodbye.
At the end of the day, I don’t want to leave.
The heady mix of aromas, I love to breathe.
I always find it so very hard, to pull myself away,
When, deep in my heart, I desperately want to stay.
Even when, at Waterloo, I’m sat on my train;
In London, a little piece of my heart remains.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chalk And Cheese
Around Camden Market, there's a lively pace,
But, just minutes away, there's a different place.
It's as though you have entered another world:
A whole new kingdom is suddenly unfurled.
There, you'll discover tranquillity and peace;
Life's hustle and bustle will suddenly cease.
It's a peaceful haven: a welcome oasis of calm;
It's a really special place, packed full of charm.
It was a warm, sunny day - perfect for walking;
On the benches, people sat reading, or just talking.
Along the canal, painted narrow-boats cruised;
Further upstream, people were paddling canoes.
Ducks and moorhens were dotted here and there.
At a Friesian cow sculpture, I stopped and stared.
Wavy patterns decorated the bridges' undersides.
For cyclists, the towpath made a pleasant ride.
As I passed London Zoo, I heard a waterfall:
Not what I expected to hear in London at all!
I spied some posh villas sitting atop the bank:
No doubt, the residences of the upper ranks.
Further along, the mood was suddenly broken:
It was as though the world had suddenly woken.
I heard the loud rumble of a passenger train,
And, through the sky, there roared a jet plane.
To follow the towpath, I just felt compelled:
Jewels like this, I never knew London held.
One of London's hidden gems, I uncovered;
This place, I felt so thrilled to have discovered.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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London Bye Ta-ta
London bye ta-ta
Strange young town
London bye ta-ta
Brought me down
Dont like your new face
Thats not nice
Got to go far, far
London bye ta-ta
Gigi, gigi, gigi, gigi
Take me away
Gigi, gigi, gigi, gigi
Take me today
The boys in the clothes shop
Sold me curry for a pound
His cardboard face is soggy,
And his sellings thorny crown
I loved her!
I loved her!
Ive got to get away,
But I loved her!
Oh-oh-oh
London bye ta-ta
Strange young town
London bye ta-ta
Brought me down
Dont like your new face
Thats not nice
Got to go far, far
London bye ta-ta
Red light, green light
Make up your mind
Red light, green light
Youre far too un-kind
She loves to love all beauty,
And she says the norm is funny
But she whimpers in the morning
When she finds she has no money
I loved her!
I loved her!
Ive got to get away now,
But I loved her!
Ahhh!
Oh-oh-oh
London bye ta-ta
Strange young town
London bye ta-ta
Brought me down
Dont like your new face
Thats not nice
Got to go far, far
London bye ta-ta
Ahh
Oh-oh-oh
London bye ta-ta
Strange young town
London bye ta-ta
Brought me down
Dont like your new face
Thats not nice
Got to go far, far
London bye ta-ta
Oh, london bye ta-ta
Oh, london bye ta-ta
Oh, eh
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Carnival!
The Notting Hill Carnival is a great celebration,
Which unites many people from across the nation.
The carnival celebrates the diverse Caribbean culture;
Upon Notting Hill, the revellers descend like vultures.
You can hear the sound of traditional steel bands;
See people partying, and clapping their hands.
Along the streets, the procession winds its way,
To the colourful beats of both calypso and reggae.
To the music, you can't help, but tap your feet;
You will soon be moving your body to the beat.
From static sound systems, comes a bellowing bass.
Throughout your whole body, adrenaline will race.
The procession snakes on for miles and miles;
There are vibrant colours, and infectious smiles.
Participants always put on a truly dazzling show,
Which encompasses every colour of the rainbow.
Of carnival costumes, there is a glittering array;
They are one of the major highlights of the day.
Girls sensually shimmy in colourful costumes,
As musicians play catchy, toe-tapping tunes.
On the elaborate costumes, all stitched together,
Are sequins, beads, flowers, and fluffy feathers.
Faces are carefully painted with colourful designs;
This is the big moment for the participants to shine.
The parade also boasts many breathtaking floats;
All hoping to attract the judges' important votes.
Thrilling sights and sounds, ignite all of your senses.
Between the different cultures, there are no fences.
A tasty array of freshly cooked Caribbean food,
Tickles your taste buds, and puts you in the mood.
The sweet smell of jerk chicken wafts through the air;
A real taste of the Caribbean, the people love to share.
People love to let their hair down, and have a good time.
They pray that, on the day, there will be bright sunshine.
There is guaranteed to be the most amazing atmosphere;
People dance, whistles shriek, drums beat, crowds cheer.
To its Caribbean roots, the carnival has remained true.
People of all ages and backgrounds, the carnival woos.
This is Notting Hill in all its glory, and it's a pretty safe bet,
The revellers will continue partying way after the sun sets.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A parable about a real woman
There were six men in her life
And they all loved her, but...
Their love was so different.
The first one was very rich.
He loved her because she was beautiful.
He just wanted to have a doll,
To demonstrate her to everyone
And listen to everyones' saying:
'Wow! What a beauty you've got! '
So, she had left him.
The second one loved her because he loved sex
And all the time in bed he repeated:
'Oh, you behave like a whore!
I want you more and more.'
She was fed up with him and left him too.
The third one wanted her to give birth to 11 boys
As he wanted to make his own football team.
She wouldn't say that she didn't like football or children
But....11 boys! She just imagined their noise.
The forth man was a famous sculptor.
She was a muse for him, his Goddess.
He even made a pedestal for her.
But she also had to leave him
As she didn't want to be a secret object.
The fifth one liked the way she cooked.
But he was always hungry, so she understood:
If one day she wouldn't have enough food for him
He would eat her leaving only the bones.
There were six men in her life
And they all loved her but....
Their love was so different.
When the sixth man came into her life
He proclaimed: 'I love you because you are a REAL WOMAN! '
He loved her when she was smiling,
He loved her when she was crying,
He loved her when she was capricious or angry.
But her food was so delicious.
He loved her when she was sometimes foolish
Or sometimes very smart.
He loved her when she was sometimes lazy
And didn't feel like cooking.
He loved her because she was just a woman,
A woman with a womanly soul.
And she had to be understood.
She loved him because he discovered her soul.
She loved him because he was just a man.
When he looked at her or just touched her
Her soul was coming to light.
He had brought her life to delight.
She loved him because he was a REAL MAN.
There were six men in her life, but...
May be there were not six but seven or eight?
Who knows?
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Watching The World Go By
In a coffee shop window, I sit and stare
At all the people passing by, out there.
In London town, literally anything goes:
Zany hairstyles, as well as crazy clothes.
As a regular visitor, I'm now never surprised
At the sights, which I see set before my eyes.
People of all ages pass by: some young, some old;
Some wear quiet colours, while others wear bold.
Some have mobile phones pressed to their ear:
Their faces full of frowns - no trace of cheer.
But tourists keep a much more leisurely pace;
These are the people with a smile on their face.
Football supporters are just back from a game;
Fuelled with alcohol, they are less than tame.
A tramp searches for food in the nearby trash.
A busker plays his guitar, hoping for some cash.
Small children tightly hold their parents' hands;
The dangers of the city, they don't yet understand.
I see friends greet, and, each other, they happily hug;
The warmth between them, I feel in my coffee mug.
I see teenage girls with hair dyed red or bright blue;
And they dare to flash an amazing amount of flesh to.
Here, people aren't afraid to show just who they are.
Some of them drive around in really cool, funky cars.
London is so different from the town where I reside:
No one in the city feels as though they've got to hide.
Sitting, watching people, just makes the time really fly.
I love sitting in the window, watching the world go by.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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London Town
I do believe
I must believe
I think I can begin again
Become again the man I was back when
So Im walking on your streets again
Feeling now as I did then
Ive since become a different man
London town, turn be around
London town, carry me back
O london town, lost and found
And I feel like going back
I can remember lots of time and space
If I lose the name, still I know the faces
Time as come and left its traces
London town, turn be around
London town, carry me back
O london town, lost and found
And I feel like going back
When I grew too old and dull to rock n roll
Like to hold on tight to you darling
And when my fires have all burned out
Id like to think I can still think about
The things I used to sing about
When I was spending all my time alone
By myself and on my own
Seldom seen and quite unknown
London town, turn be around
London town, carry me back
O london town, lost and found
And I feel like going back
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Market Day
There’s a market in our town, two days a week.
It’s nice to have a browse and take a quick peek.
There’s a riot of colours up and down the street,
And mouth-watering smells from all the food to eat.
There’s an explosion of different sights and sounds,
And dozens of people are leisurely milling around.
At the market, there’s always a great atmosphere,
And there’s nothing for sale there which is too dear.
A mobile van serves up spicy German bratwurst,
Plus a variety of different drinks to quench your thirst.
On one stall, they sell leather purses and handbags:
Cheap ones, plus designer ones, for the would-be WAGs.
In his mobile truck, a rotund butcher chops up some meat:
He promises his customers that his prices can’t be beat.
There’s a stall which sells low price pet supplies.
This is always a big attraction for the penny wise.
Hoping that none of his food will end up in the waste,
The Mediterranean food stall holder offers a free taste.
There are crisps and cakes stacked in crates,
Which are not long off of their sell by date.
From yet another stall, drifts an amazing perfumed smell.
They sell a variety of novelty soap and bath bombs as well.
A Jeweller displays a variety of items made of silver and gold.
He also buys any old unwanted jewellery, if it is being sold.
Then, of course, there’s the doughnut man –
Of this particular stall, I’m a very big fan!
Each market trader has their own unique call,
Trying to attract the customers to their stall.
They brave all weathers – the heat and the freezing cold,
Hoping that, by the close of day, their wares will be sold.
At the end of the day, there are real bargains to be found,
Such as a box of mixed fruit or veg for only a pound.
Come late afternoon, they pack up after a long day.
They load up their vans and are soon on their way.
When they have all gone, all that is left is a space,
And, of the market, there isn’t left a single trace.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love Ramen
because i havent made myself lunch not yet
but no reason to fret
i know what i will make
it will be great
o how i love this food
sometimes i eat and say o dude
its even better then cake
this food is no fake
it is the food that i like to eat
but it needs to cooked under much heat
this food is something you might not expect i dont know
but i think it is time to show
the great food i love RAMEN!
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Torch' Relay Hits Town
From many miles around, the people came
To catch a glimpse of the Olympic Flame.
The Torch was the focus of a huge celebration:
It visited places the whole length of the nation.
The excited crowds began to steadily flock
In to the town centre at around three o'clock.
As crowds waited to see the lucky Torchbearers,
They agreed that the weather could not be fairer.
Local children were given the day off from school:
They all considered that this was really quite cool!
Many of the local roads were temporarily closed:
A nightmare for motorists, this arrangement posed.
I felt disappointed that I had to work on that day,
But to the doorway of our shop, I made my way.
I could hear the assembled crowd's excited cheers,
And I knew that the Torch must be drawing near.
I could hear horns blowing and whistles shrieking,
But it was the Torch itself which my eyes were seeking.
The Torchbearer, who I saw, looked extremely proud
As he ran, with flame in hand, past the waiting crowd.
The people, who had cameras, merrily clicked away,
Capturing images of the Torch, on that historic day.
Within the town, there was a wonderful atmosphere:
There was a mood of celebration mixed with cheer.
Down the High Street, the Torchbearer dashed:
The historic moment was over, as quick as a flash.
But within my heart, I felt a sense of satisfaction
That I had been lucky enough to glimpse the action.
I thought that the Torch itself looked really quite smart:
Its golden honeycomb design was a real work of art.
After the Torch had passed, the crowd then dispersed,
And I set about capturing the historic moment in verse!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's In It For Me?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE TIME FOR TWITTER AND FACEBOOK, BUT NONE FOR THEMSELVES OR OTHERS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE A HUNDRED 'FRIENDS' ON FACEBOOK,
BUT NOT EVEN TEN IN REAL LIFE
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE EMOTE WITH EMOTICONS BUT NOT WITH THEIR FACES,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE PREFER TO WRITE 'LOL' RATHER THAN ACTUALLY LAUGHING OUT LOUD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR COMPUTER MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LIVE THEIR LIVES MORE ONLINE THAN OFF IT,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN SPOT THE ERROR IN SOMEONE'S TYPING BUT CANNOT SPOT A TEAR IN A FRIEND'S EYE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN GROW ANY CROP ONLINE BUT CANNOT EVEN PICK UP A SPADE IN REAL LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE RELISH THE FOOD AT MCDONALDS AND DOMINOS, BUT CRIB OVER HOME COOKED FOOD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE ARE READY TO KILL FOR A FEW SHREDS OF PAPER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE KILL IN THE NAME OF RELIGION,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE A MAN IS READY TO KILL HIS BROTHER OVER PROPERTY AND MONEY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF MONEY IS MORE THAN THE VALUE OF LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE LIVING A LIFE IS TOUGHER THAN KILLING A LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE IT'S EASIER TO EARN MONEY BY CHEATING THAN BY WORKING HONESTLY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF A GIFT IS THROUGH ITS PRICE AND NOT ITS EMOTIONS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE MEASURE OF A MAN IS THROUGH HIS CAR AND HOUSE RATHER THAN HIS CHARACTER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR POSSESSIONS MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS AND PARENTS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THINGS ARE LOVED AND PEOPLE ARE USED,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE DO ANYTHING FOR A BETTER PAY BUT NOTHING FOR A BETTER CONSCIENCE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD IS BAD AND I KNOW THAT BUT SILL IF I WIN THIS WORLD,
WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
poem by Deepak Hariharan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Essence of Edinburgh
Evening time, in my town, is often deadly quiet,
But, up here in Edinburgh, there's a sensual riot!
From a night club doorway, purple-pink light spills out;
Along the streets, crowds of tourists still amble about.
There is an endless stream of cars and buses;
In my town, the pace is slow, but here, it rushes.
In the city, there are exciting sights and sounds;
It is so much livelier than my own little town.
In my town, after five, most people have gone home,
But, around the streets of Edinburgh, folk still roam.
Emergency vehicles rush past with klaxons blazing;
The atmosphere here, in the city, is just so amazing.
In my town, it is often almost dead after five,
But the city of Edinburgh is still very much alive.
Of action, in my own town, there's a really big lack;
I don't want to leave here: I don't want to go back.
Edinburgh, at Festival time, is always such a blast;
Against my own town, it paints a very sharp contrast.
Street entertainers attract crowds along the Royal Mile;
Attracting many tourists, they're sure to raise a smile.
At the Military Tattoo, I saw many massed bands;
I saw performers who hailed from foreign lands.
For me, that really was such a memorable night;
It filled all my senses with such excited delight.
I really wish that I could stay here forever and ever;
Inside, my soul feels light, and it floats like a feather.
I don't want to go back home: I don't want to leave.
For this amazing city, my heart will soon grieve.
Here, in Edinburgh, I have had such a great time;
For this wonderful city, I know my heart will pine.
Come tomorrow morning, when I board my train,
The essence of Edinburgh, in my heart, will remain.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Colourful Family Tree
This world is made up of colours and,
I am glad to come up from a colourful family tree.
There are many colours around us and,
You can enjoy the colours in your bathrooms too;
For nature is full of colours!
Like the human beings,
I an brown in colour and my mother is a black woman from Africa.
I have many relatives all over the continets and,
My father is a white man from the U.S.A.
Four of my aunties are from Australia, Japan, Brazil and the U.K.;
Four of my uncles are from India, Mexico, Canada and Denmark;
So i grew up among many colours of this world.
A colourful family tree is what i came from and,
I am very glad to meet various colours in my life time;
For a long the lines of my growth,
I have come to love all the colours around me.
Colours are very beautiful and we need them around us,
They are in your offices and your houses too;
Yes, we need all the colours to beautify things around us.
Black is beautiful and white is beautiful too,
For we were made from the Creator with colours!
And i am very glad to be part of this family tree.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Long?
Its five oclock
In the afternoon
Somebodys playing
A sixties tune on the radio
A lazy wind tumbles
Down the street
It shakes the dust up
With the summer heat
Where the people go...
In fancy town
Where nothings real
They dont consider
What you feel
In fancy town
Its black & white
They close their minds
They say
Wrong is right
How long
Will your love
Hold on
To stay strong enough
In fancy town
The attitude
Could strip you bare
Like frozen food
A ship of fools
In a crazy choir
Is gonna take you home
And light your fire
In fancy town
Where nothings real
They dont consider
What you feel
In fancy town
Its black & white
They close their minds
They say
Wrong is right
How long
Will your love
Hold on
To stay strong enough
A deck of cards
In perfect black
Like cold cement
On the pavement cracks
Where lovers steal
And beg for time
And doctors sign
On the dotted line...
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dogged Days
A country-dog has chanced to find
A plantain-leaf with left-o’er food;
Oh, what a stroke of luck this day!
It rolls over the ground with joy
And rips the packet open fast.
Some bits of chicken-bones with flesh
Amidst some biriyani rice –
That smells quite good but could be stale,
Yet tempting to the dog’s taste-buds!
The food lies scattered on the ground
With mud and pebbles, paper too;
A hungry dog is blind to these,
And eats the food in hurried way.
God only knows what things have slipped
Past throat, along with food it took;
Its hunger-pangs abated now,
The dog basks in the sun and sleeps!
But death could come soon anytime;
Just lucky, ’tis alive today!
Think of the human beings too,
Who lead a dogged-life these days –
Without a proper meal a day
Or clothes to wear or place to rest!
The God of love who made us all
Is watching how we treat brethren;
We talk so big but do little
To help the most unfortunate souls.
No land can call itself blessed;
No people can call themselves great,
While famished, ravished souls exist,
And people live in slums like dogs!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-8-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Colours
All different colours absorbed in as VIBGYOR,
Choice different but they are choice of yours,
Colours do form part of our life and aim,
Not particular choice of colour we can claim,
When rays pass through particles, form rainbow,
Nature’s beauty boom not with angle narrow,
All splashed in the sky and across the horizons,
No restrictions and can be seen by every ones,
Colours not confine with simple object,
Adding colour to it means new ideas inject,
Who can ignore without praise and reject?
Embodiment of love in vastness and subject,
Praise of redness on cheeks may add to beauty,
Pearls, jewels, diamonds may form part of booty,
Colours to all and colours too few,
Sweetness in honey dew or morning dew,
Colourful fancy dresses always attraction of fair,
Pointer always at beautiful well dressed pair,
Rose pink or any flower when put in hair,
Cooked food smell sweet fragrance and flair,
Note: - V..Violet, I..indigo and so on for VIBGYOR
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vilamoura (Portugal)
The sun is shining full and strong on the seaside town,
its marina is full toy boats only the rich can afford.
Restaurants and cafes are selling overpriced food and
drink under shady awnings and parasols.
In summers shade is costly under every tree a table
and waiters waiting to take your order. The midday
sun is relentless a throng of people walking up and
down the promenade, can they all be English?
I often walk here in late October when the elderly
come on holiday, shadows are free the sun is pale
on a fluffy sky, boats have sailed to a warmer clime
and the town dreams of last summer’s wine.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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