In our cave, outside is forgotten.
In our cave, outside is forgotten.
As sure as the blue sky.
You were mine.
It was a mess.
Ups and downs.
But you were mine.
The other woman loves you.
You love her in return.
Secretly, Tenderly, Sensually
I got nothing.
Nothing but well wishes.
Rain to water your garden and to cleanse you of the dirt;
Sunshine to bask in.
I got nothing but hope for you.
Hope for productivity, purpose, vision, drive for all the grind that lies ahead.
I got nothing but positivity for you in the week ahead! Go get it!
It’s been a while since I last wrote a piece of prose and Friday seemed fitting as I lay in bed listening to the first real rain since last summer. I couldn’t help but scribble something…
You poured down
In buckets at first.
Beating chaotic rhythms
On the roofs
And the trees and the ground
And my back.
I waded in the puddles,
Begrudging the inconvenience of bad timing,
But grateful for perfect timing.
They came just in time,
You came just in time,
It will come just in time.
I lay now cocooned in duck feathers
And you patter gently at a safe distance.
I am safe
You are here
And I am safe…
We’re a proud nation today! Congratulations to the Bokke on their sensational win this weekend!
Thank you for popping in today! Have an amazing week everyone😘
Happy Sunday erbody!
How’s the weather in your corner of the world? It’s been raining in Joburg since last night. It’s the perfect weather for staying cooped up in bed with a good book, a stew on the stove while in the arms of a bearded Nubian King! Wow! That escelated so quickly😂
Today I’d like to share what vaguely resembles poetry, but prefer calling prose… I’ve learned this week that moving on and getting over is dependant on me and not always on outside factors. I tend to play victim a great deal of the time to excuse my own holding on…
Anyway! Here you go! Enjoy the read!
So we’ve been sitting here.
Hunched over this mess,
throwing blame back and forth as though in a tennis match.
Of spewing accusations at you and wiping upthrown bile from my own face.
I’m moving forward.
You’re welcome to move with me.
Or you can stay behind and wallow on your own.
As always, I appreciating your dropping by for my posts! Your support means the world to me! Have a beautiful week! I’ll see you on Wednesday😘
I’m back! So I took part in this campaign over at Twitterville! Attach a picture of your afro with a poem of encouragement. Check out the hashtag to see what other women are saying!
My fro does as it pleases.
Stretches out, shrinks back.
And so I do the same.
The world will adjust.
Invigilation is a slow game of Pacman. There are, however, no winners;
Just teachers entrenched in those aisle
Picking up dropped pencils and adjusting facedown student cards- bored out of their minds
Knowing fully well that their only escape is a quiet classroom and a pile waiting for that red tick- Or red cross.
Students, stuck in their seats filling pages and pages with dates and sums and reasons in hopes that they will will be rewarded. Sometimes merely waiting for the declaration: “Pens down!”
Indeed, this game of Pacman holds us all hostage!
No one knows how to lift my spirits better than me.Just put me behind the wheel and give me an adventure to embark on.
No one knows how to make my heart flutter better than me. Play me something beautiful, progressions with minors and husky voices and words that sing what I feel.
No one takes care of me better than me. Give me my matchbox flat, flavours to mix in a pot that nourish my belly and my soul.
No one calms me better than me. Make the room quiet and leave me to my own devices.
No one knows me better than me and no one loves me better than me because I’m all I’ve got…
“When I’ve ticked all the boxes, I’ll be happy,” she resolved.
But what if happiness lies in the journey and not the boxes ticked?