To Win You need three Cherries,
A lucky ticket is the Lottery.
My baby is a Cashpot.
A leprechaun
My very own pot of Gold,
To Rub her the right way,
She's my Genie in a Bottle.
Holding her I feel forever young,
My sweet 16.
At 21 she's smokes,
Some say Good Girl behaving bad,
She's my Lottery ticket of Luck,
Her Foreplay the Game Of Love,
At age 12 I heard to succeed in Life,
You need a proper Head,
Want to achieve the gold by 32.
At age 23 I wanted to get married,
So at 29 I found a Parson,
It wasn't meant to be,
Maybe age 36,
older is better
I heard Patience is a Virtue.
The taste of older wine is greater.
My Hand middle scratching
A Pot of Gold My baby,
She's definitely my Cashpot.
About the Creator
Sean Noble
Poetry from the spiritual mind expressing Ways of creativity. Read passionately mini sadness, pure happiness. I have no Stripe account but will accept gratuity via PayPal. [email protected]. Thank you. Most High First Every Day.
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Feelings Never Die
It is Valentine's Day again, and it bought back memories that were over fifty years old. It bought me back to 1971, and I woke up and I knew my baby was due today. I was big and pregnant, and I felt like I was about to burst wide open. Imagine my surprise when the doctor told my I had a due date of February 14. I couldn't believe it, and since my baby was due today, I felt I could indulge myself a bit. I had gained a lot of weight, and chocolate was on the no-no list, but I had came to the end of this pregnancy, and I hoped it would be okay, after all I would deliver this baby today. So I walked across the street to the grocery story, and bought myself, a peppermint patty, covered in chocolate, my favorite. Me and my Valentine's baby would enjoy it together.
By Susan Payton4 days ago in Fiction
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