Tag Archive | cold

Soul Search…Tuesday Thoughts

In the Winters of your life, search the corners of your soul for the sunshine of Summer

Winter, Cold, Troubled, Downcast, Emotions, Darkness, Light, Quote, Melancholy

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Going Abstract…

Abstract The Daily Post Photo Prompt

Dear Madam Winter….

Snow goddess

Dear Madam Winter,

An appeal to your Bitter, Blustery Highness,
As your Icicled fingers of Frigid coldness,
Begins to drift in and it gets drafty,
Could we appeal to your Foggy, Frostbitten senses?
Could your Frozen Flurries and Freezing Rain be few?
We spend tons on Flus, Flannels and the Fireplace too!
Heating our Hearths to halt Hypothermia!
Expensive jackets, gloves, leggings, woolly mittens, caps, scarves and socks,
Long-Johns, Overcoats, Parkas and the entire shindig, cost a huge packet too!
White Christmas, Snowman and Ice skating is nice we know,
But Ma’am, we could do without your,
Foggy Overcast which forebodes Ice-storms and Hails!
We could survive without your Slippery Black Ice too!
We Turn Blue from the Huge Heaps of Knee-deep Snow on our doorsteps,
Where we are forced to Seek Cozy Comfort, to Bundle, to Hibernate and indulge in,
Copious cups of hot chocolate and Warm Soup,
Until your Dreary Frozen Highness,
Thaws from the Fingers of the Warming Sun!
Please, Your Frostbitten Excellency,
Do not get gusty and nip at my Chimney in annoyance,
I simply utter a shivery request!
Thank you, Your Chilliness.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

In fulfillment of Writing 201 Poetry Day 9: Cold, Concrete Poetry, Epistrophe/Anaphora

Image courtesy: Pinterest

Some Edible Mushroom…

Red_poisonous_mushroom_in_the_hand

The cool early morning breeze seemed soothing and refreshing, but Jen did not think so.

She was chilled to the bones. The night had been very cold with rain drizzles.

Her lightweight jacket and rucksack were barely enough barrier against the chill,

and the park bench was not made for a good night’s sleep.

She knew she could not linger for too long,

constant fear of being accosted by the groundskeeper,

kept her as uncomfortable as a colicky cat,

but she had no energy left to undertake yet another long trek,

to a county soup kitchen.

She had chosen this quieter place, to keep out of the way of the officers,

who diligently monitored the obvious public ones, and were quick to shoo you along.

She stared blankly into the lush green fields,

the early morning tweets of birds, reminded her of home,

of the birds that had built a nest in the old oak in the front-yard.

Her heady dreams of finding that pot of gold,

at the end of the ever elusive rainbow,

had tugged and pulled at her,

until she left her small hometown, to the city of fortune.

She could remember ma’s tears as she stubbornly sought her way.

Her cupboard had quickly run bare, her rent a history to be told,

items of value pawned at such an accelerated rate.

Still pride would not let go, nor a cry for help uttered home.

The intercessions were getting busier by the day,

With people clutching individually inscribed cardboard’s.

Eyes silently pleading, in hope of a hand out.

She had grown tired of the pitiful stares,

Of the leers with suggestive looks on their faces,

Of the eyes reluctant to make contact,

Of the eyes that looked as if they had seen vermin or vomit.

She resolved to find a way to go home to ma,

At least a warm bed and food she would find.

Hunger pangs were gnawing her insides,

Last nights sandwich had barely been enough.

The sprouted dewy mushrooms glistened in the morning light,

Their toadstool shapes looked so pretty, clean, soft and edible.

Grandma gave us some of those, when I was a little girl she recalled,

but grandma forgot to educate the little girl,

that most times, those attractive ones, would surely pack a wicked punch.

She gorged from desperation, and drank from the water fountain,

Several hours later, she slept and was no more.

P.S. Remember to show compassion to the less privileged around you. You might very well be saving a life. 🙂 Thank you.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

The scale on my head…

weight scale

Who created the weighing scale, If I may ask?

Who was that overzealous person that apportioned clothes sizes?

Can someone please tell me?

Who was it that decided,

that my pudgy good self,

my sexy and I know it self,

Is just not the cutting edge shape?

Well, if I must tell you,

since you need to know,

its just my awesomeness spilling all over.

Besides, I need my extra curves,

to keep me warm on cold nights.

That’s all! 😉

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

P.S. Photo credit: The comedy card company.