Love in Four Words


I was chosen by Ameena KG to write a post on “What is Love in ten sentences”. And the twist- each sentence must be composed of four words. I thought I could do a regular rhyming poem but then I thought I could write a poem that is a little more interesting so I am going to do a 10 sentence 4 words in continuous form poem. 

 Love is giving you

my most favorite dessert

german chocolate cheese cake

with vanilla ice cream

and letting you have

the very last piece

and not complaining at

all; even though I

adore it more than

anyone but crazy you.

And know I have to share my favorite quote on love:

I've fallen for you


Day 10 – Sonnet Shakespearan- The Storm

I walked along a path

That led this way and back

I could feel the winds wrath

The lightening gave a crack

My crystal eyes teared

I cowered very low

Worse then all I feared

A howling I heard so

Then sunlight dripped inside

My heart did slow a beat

No more need to hide

I got up off my seat

Then larks let out a song

Was daylight all along

The storm was powerful

Day 9 – Uneven Beauty

Uneven Beauty

Intuition shades uneven solar beauty.

Awaken eyes rethink perversion,

Cleanse our sensational heart.

Behind the cover of grey,

Power shades inspired inside hope renewed.

Look fabulous, escape,

Forget the graphic radiance.

Let your walls flower. 

Ode to Lingerie

Oh, Lingerie sitting there in that glorious powder pink drawer
You are my favourite and the best of all the clothing I do adore
I love you see through lacy bra in pale off white
And matching thong, your sure to turn on
Mixed in with bright pink push up bra, the prettiest of them all
You hold, the girls up so they just won’t fall, oh what a job
All you muted black and white, you aren’t my favourite but we do alright
And nude strapless bra, you’ll go with anything at all
I adore you with silky boy shorts that don’t show any lines at all
And delicate fuschia slip, made of the softest cotton, and silk
I love thee best to sleep in on a summers day when the house is much to hot
Beautiful gown of the silkiest seal gray, you make my day with lace up top
With a back that dips, matchings fury clogs, and seal gray robe
How luxurious you all make me feel, pampered if you will
And comfortable like my purple boxer short pants, silky, soft, luscious
And I long to wear you with a flowery tank top, in purple satin, feels divine
Oh, Lingerie we were made to be; I with thee, and thee with I.

Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers: Our Apartment

Everyone knew about the apartments around the tennis courts. They were old and decrepit and most people didn’t want to live there. But the rent was cheap, really cheap and my friend and I decided that it was the perfect place for two university student’s trying to save money. Plus, there was a liquor store right around the corner and nobodycared if you partied here.

They apartment was clean enough or so I thought, until one day I see this rat scurrying across the muted yellow living room carpet. ” A rat” I screamed, at my roommate Laura, ” a rat.” I hated rats and so did Laura. We chased it and left traps for it with peanut butter.

At night in my room I was so thankful the carpet was right against the crack in the door so no rats could get in and I always left my room door closed. But suddenly something fell onto the bed right on my head. I screeched and turned on the lights. Sure enough a rat had dropped from light fixture in my room and he had three little friends up their with him.

Word Count: 189 ( Sorry I know a little long but I’m working on it!)

Day 7 – These Hands

These are they that use to have such skill.
That walked the giant type writer keys with a surgeons hand.
That threaded the tiny needle with a sewers touch.
Now they are bent and crippled, stippled with a thousand memories
What shall I say but these hands use to be so strong, thin, and long.
They turned the wheel of a sailing boat, tying off knots and ropes.
They turned the key in the wardrobe door and opened the gate to Narnia, Oz, and Diagon Alley.
With every page the revealed a masterpiece, at least a story to tell, these fingers held glory, and searched for eternity in sand, brought home in flip flops
These fingers lingered on a hand while it crossed the gates of another plane
They followed the life flow from human eyes to a space that no longer held life or light.
These hands reached inside the coffin and held your cold stiff fingers like ice without the give.
These hands faced death and even yet they face a world of catastrophe and hopefulness.
Like books that tell a humble story these hands tell the time and the root of many a tale
My fingers walk right down each page and sacrifice so you should all hear vanities, and vice, calamities and rights.
A story of fingers and hands, no longer young and so tired they ache to the bones marrow
These hands held so many things
Now they wait to be still.


Day 6: Kelly the Wonder Dog

Her hair blew back in the wind
A smile reached her eyes
For she was Kelly the wonder dog
She pants as she flies

No dog ever went so high
And loved floating up beneath the sky
She gave a bark, then half a woof
And held her paws out with a sigh

Her tale was burnished copper
In-between her spots were white
She was brave and she was mighty
Oh she was out of sight

She laughed the way that doggies do
And howled at the moon
She sailed the treetops in a hot air balloon
And she always felt time passed much to soon

Kelly, the wonder dog
She floated beneath the sky
The bravest dog you ever met
Oh, she’ll fly and fly, and never die

Kelly, the wonder dog
In her balloon
At the zoo
Oh, she’ll fly and fly, and never die.


And One Week Became Another

I’m not a person who has the most exciting life. I spend a good amount of time curled up with a book or magazine as the world passes by. Lately, I find myself even bored of watching television with the exception of a few favourite shows and often the news. I’m trying to participate in society, in the world, but there is a cushy feeling going between what I am reading (blogs included), extra sleep while I wait for my sleeping medication to become more tolerable, and the activities I have planned. Sometimes there just isn’t time for everything and I’m finding that that is okay sometimes.
As of late I’ve been spending moments working on poetry for a Writing 201 course through WordPress. Poems just come to me I find but it is great review to practice pattern, meter, and terms such as anthropomorphism or consonance. I think it’s only a two week course but I have signed back up for Photography 101 afterwards to hopefully take more of my own photographs recently this time around. I’m also working on Fiction 600 through SFU, it starts this week and I will have to keep up with that for the next four months. But I’m excited to have the course be of some assistance on the book I am writing. Maybe I will learn more about how to structure it and resolve my plot.

I’m looking forward to having a busy week with a couple appointments early on and a weekend spent at my boyfriends. I have not seen him in two weeks he’s been so busy studying for Culinary school. Plus, I’ve been busy enough myself although it may not seem like it. I guess I’ll just wait and see what happens too.

Oh and if you’ve ever wanted to read a book where the heroine is actually a well built curvy woman and not some tiny thing I suggest The Raven by Sylvain Reynard. It is a pretty exciting read. Interesting and based around art and literature as his books always are. It’s a romance but I still really enjoyed it and look forward to his next book The Prince.

Take care

Emily Dickinson – A Bird Came Down The Walk

A Bird came down the Walk

Emily Dickinson, 1830 – 1886

A Bird came down the Walk—
He did not know I saw—
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,

And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass—
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass—

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around—
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought—
He stirred his Velvet Head

Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home—

Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam—
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon
Leap, plashless as they swim.

( The last stanza is my favourite!)

Day 5: Elegy – The Last We Saw

He crossed the barren land as it spiralled up his legs
Like arms from death pulling at his body
He ventured through the mist and it held him there for moments
He could not see, was blind as it descended upon him
Like some cold swirling mythical beast
It sucked him down until he was lost
And I’m told, that’s the last we saw of him.