The Daily Post

Painted Love…

Paint the wonderful World
that you would like to see;
as beautiful as you can.

So, I painted love
all over your heart
and watched you transform.

Paint – Daily Post

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

out-of-the-silent-breath 2

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Featured Blogs · Networking · Online Blog Party

The Farmer’s solution and our combined Summer story…

The outpour of friends to last weekend’s party was totally amazing and I would like to thank each and every one of you for making it a blast.

I hope it was worth the time of all who attended. The link can be accessed through here for those who were unable to step in. I look forward to seeing you at the end of this month 🙂

We had a riddle to tackle, however due to all the eating and dancing, the poor farmer couldn’t get a suitable suggestion but our Summer poetry story was quite impressively contributed to and a lot of folks spotted the difference  clearly. 🙂

The compilation is below with attributions to contributors. Once again, thank you for the fun.


A poor farmer went to the market to sell some peas and lentils. However, as he had only one sack and didn’t want to mix peas and lentils, he poured in the peas first, tied the sack in the middle, and then filled the top portion of the sack with the lentils.

At the market, a rich innkeeper happened by with his own sack. He wanted to buy the peas, but he did not want the lentils.

Pouring the seed anywhere else but the sack is considered soiling.

To trade in sacks is not allowed. The farmer can’t cut a hole in his sack.

How would you transfer the peas to the innkeeper’s sack, which he wants to keep, without soiling the produce?


Pour the lentils into the innkeeper’s sack, bind it and turn inside out. Pour in the peas. Then unbind the sack and pour the lentils back to your sack.

A little Summer tale…

We wore Summer dresses

spun like flower coloured cotton

that sat on each stalk

a cooking pot and twisted tales

Together we played hopscotch
With bright coloured chalk,
Whispered sweet nothings
Held hands while we walked.


A whisper of soft summer breeze
ruffled the spun flowery cotton
sweet summer scents floated
filling the air with sensuous delight

Soul gifts

We gazed at a World
filled with the promise
of its untold treasures.
Ours to map out in time.

Cybernetic blonde

Stars glittered as we dreamed
Whispered of far places
We slow danced in the dark
Delighting the fireflies

Melinda Kucsera

Ray’s of sunshine glistening on dew
Morning glories meanwhile pushing through
Great friends may seem far and few
Until the blogger party begins

Moody Much

Light on our feet
we did the Harlem shuffle
Supposedly a poverty dance
but none of this matters,
when love takes a chance


sleeveless sundress
golden rays
paint her shoulders

paint her shoulders
tawny hues
show off her white dress

show off her white dress
soft and silken
like rose petals

like rose petals
soft and red
sensual lips


And Blue eyes
Like deep pools
Reflecting the summer skies


Picking fluffy balls,

My soft white hands ached,

But this was our living.

So everybody no matter who

Picked the cotton

And inside I smiled,

Knowing in days not too

Far away; there’d be new–

Cotton dresses for my —

Three Sisters and I,

Whatever the colour or pattern,

Brand new, latest style.

For now, the four of us picked,

In old cotton summer dresses

Sweltering and famished .


Walking down the street

our feet went flip flop

Wondering how far we had gotten


The heat is intense…
I enjoy beach at sunrise,
hide-out afternoon


Despite the oppressive heat
the need to hide from the burning rays
I slide over to you
we chat about the we that we are
we know soon it will cool
the beach will invite us
to walk through the break
hold hands and be young again.


The sun kissed our tresses

And kindled our thoughts on

Where to rest our toes from our walk


Let me tell you that being part of this wonderful crowd is a heartwarming experience and worth every single minute.

You guys are fine gentry. You rock 🙂

We’ll do it again soon.

Life · Stream of Consciousness Saturday.

Express on WordPress…Streams of consciousness Saturday.

Pressure cooker on the gas. I’m cooking up a storm this weekend. Both in my house and on my blog.

I’m doing my month end large pots of sauces and our traditional soups. It saves my life by several inches to do so.

There are days that get hectic that those earlier prepared and saved bowls of stew and soup saves this lady from expiring.

I’m also stirring some broth in my cooking pot of a blog right now. A lovely Summery blog mingle is bubbling as I write and you are hereby invited to join the mix.

What a lovely thing and way to express ourselves on WordPress. I’ve met lovely people from different locations, Malaysia, London, NY, South US, Nigeria….and the list keeps growing.

Isn’t that impressive that we have this opportunity? I don’t know what your opinions are but for me, it’s fabulous. Let’s keep the wonderful expressions flowing. You rock WordPress 🙂


P.S. You can join our Summer blog party taking place right now. It’s fun and you get to meet fantastic folks. Looking forward to seeing you.

Below is my first just published Poetry Book “Out of the silent breath” which is available on Amazon and Smashwords.

When you buy my book, you support me in an invaluable manner.

Out of the silent breath

Writer's Quote Wednesday · Writing

That Mysterious Spirit Of Deja Vu…Writers Quote Wednesday


Have you ever met someone for the first time, but in your heart you feel as if you’ve met them before? JoAnne Kenrick, When A Mullo Loves A Woman

The prompt for this week’s writers quote is ‘mystery.’ We can write a piece of fiction, poetry etc, incorporating the word mystery.

I chose to write on incident’s that I have experienced severally in my life, especially because I had one just over the weekend and I daresay that you’ve probably had several yourself. I’ve had instances where I run into total strangers and I am totally convinced that our paths have crossed at some point in time. I have this certain feeling of knowing and familiarity which I found to be a bit eerie especially when I was much younger.

This also includes overhead conversations, that would have me questioning myself, trying to recollect where I had that conversation.

For days, I would mull over such episodes, but over time, I no longer bother with it. Now when I run into a seemingly familiar person, if I am close enough, I engage them in a conversation, laugh over the matter and move on.

I wrote the poem below in respect of that.

Our paths crossed each others
and a frisson of familiarity
raced through me.
The drone of your voice
curled inside my eardrums
pulling at memories
that are stored within.

Yet we’ve never met…

A pull to draw closer and eavesdrop
made me pause and stand in clear sight
perplexed thought crossing my mind
as I shamelessly eavesdropped on your conversation
I was sure that sometime, somewhere,
we had the same conversation, you and I.

Yet we’ve never met…

I tried to unravel the mystery in my mind
woolly cobwebs of memories buried
couldn’t cough up the answers that I sought
I dug deeper into dark recesses
seeking the unknown.
Who knew where what time and in what life
our paths had crossed

Yet we’ve never met…

I cease my attempt to decipher
I seek no longer to solve
mysteries of déjà vu
that my mind wouldn’t unravel
But, I’ve come to understand in acceptance
that somewhere, somehow and in some life
You and I are kindred spirits.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha