
In chase of a dream, he kept funnelling their money into his bogus projects and his wife thought he had simply gone mad.
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Thoughts and Tales…A Lifestyle Blog with a Zing.

In chase of a dream, he kept funnelling their money into his bogus projects and his wife thought he had simply gone mad.
I feel you and I
have walked this path,
long ago in the past
where precisely, I don’t know.
I see the beaten route
in the trodden soil
and your words touch me
without your knowing it
they echo in my soul
where I know I’ve heard them before.
© Jacqueline
He was not fearless.
As a matter of fact
he was always filled with trepidation.
Yet he always found the courage
that galvanized his actions.
He walked into the burning house
and grabbed the little child.
He knew his soul would haunt him forever
if they burnt to death.
Never again he said to himself.
The memory of his mother
and his little brother
forever seared in his mind.
*****
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Fearless, The Daily Post
Image credit: Pixabay.com
Our nerves are stretched and frayed
And yes, we champ at our bits by it all
At the spate of hateful and violent attacks
Rocking the World to minutes of silence
…and viral hashtags
How can we condone this?
How can we continue like this?
What kind of horrible lives these people must live.
To harbour souls so embittered?
…and nerves made of steel.
Complete sensitivity is lost to other peoples’ lives
There are hardly words to explain such horror
And the damage that hate can do
As yet again, we are shocked from lulled senses
…and all I ask is when? When will it come to an end?
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Nerves The Daily Post
Friends are family and gifts that we choose for ourselves.
They make us laugh a little harder, cry a little less and smile a lot more.
They are the rainbows and sunshine of our lives.
Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Friend The Daily Post
A Writer’s mind
Is a junk yard
A filigree lace of windows
For flights of fancy.
A convergence of different World’s
Where we create hero’s and villains
Real and surreal.
Weaving intricate webs of words
and evocative imagery’s
That transports the mind,
Through apertures, down rabbit and keyholes
Through the wide expanse of French windows,
Into the boggling meadows of other minds.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Window The Daily Post
She knew that
She had to fight
To conquer
Or roll over
To concede
and die.
She chose
To fight
and
she
won
♦
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
The Daily Post prompt fight.
As a matter of urgency,
It’s up to us to teach our progeny
The value of empathy.
It’s up to us to leave a legacy
That will help mold their destiny
To create good sense of well-being and identity
In an environment filled with harmony
We teach our children fair sense of equity
For them to stand as upright entities
Living in Truth, Love, Honour, Faith, Hope and Integrity.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
The Daily Post prompt legacy.

Aging is an annoying house guest
Who is forever engaged in a quest
He visits without prior behest
And stays put beside you in your arm rest
He has a way of getting your address
Even if you move places so he can’t keep abreast
An inevitable visitor who seeks to divest
All youthful zest even if you do protest
He arrives with a large travel chest
Filled with lots of odious screen tests
Doing his darned best to keep you under house arrest.
By the time he leaves, there’s nothing left but eternal rest.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
The Daily Post Prompt inevitable.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Handwritten.”
If I say that I think through my fingers would that sound senseless? I hope that doesn’t make me an oddball because I am doubtful if I can change this pattern of putting my thoughts on paper every day. I love acquiring note pads and the loss of one feels as if I have lost a friend, because I must have propagated some of the pages with little parts of my grey matter.
I write everyday, before I transcribe on my laptop. Different colored pencils and pens fill a little pouch which I call my assistant, because the different colors that I use depends on what I am writing about. Silly concept right 🙂 Oh well! That works for me.
As a matter of fact, I was writing a thought that I am fermenting in my mind as a poem. It is not complete but I guess it will have to do for now, since you asked. So here goes:
I have come to know that LOVE is when you take away all the lovely, flowery packaging of romance and lustful passion that surrounds the person that you are with and you find out that you still care for them.
That when the door of happiness closes in our face, another door will open for us if we allow ourselves to take our glance away from longing for the one that got shut. Often times, when we are busy staring at the shut door, we fail to see the open window.
Love will surely come to those who still hope and have the courage to build trust again even though they have been disappointed in the past.
I hope you find the someone that will make you smile.
Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha