Poetic letter: The surprise of Christmas

                                      The surprise of Christmas

I envied this cat, his beauty

No worry not disturbed

If this is his daily meals

He was eating delicately

Whimsical, like fondling

Old age has prevailed, yesterday

It is gone one winter morning

It is now free as air,

Like a pasha

In the paradise, of cats

We remember his nonsense

Clinging to the hair

Clawing also the curtains

And when we sang Christmas

He meowed at will

It ran by pulling the belts

Night bathrobes

In summer, quietly swatting flies

Breaking flower vases

Hiding our remonstrance

Like a sphinx, he was moving, skillful

Turning around my ankles

While I was in pain

It purred happiness

For relieving my troubles

He was walking on the high roofs

Of the opulent houses from Detroit

The cat was reluctant to go down

On seeing the firemen seek him

Suddenly it fled and meowing

Roll into a ball near to by the fireplace

We assistant at the last Christmas dinner

Sniffing roasted turkey skins

He slept turning the four paws in the air

Meanwhile hugs in the stomach

Now, when the joyful children

Will be sitting under the tree

They will open their gifts, merry

Then exceed a small stirring head

That of an adorable kitten, pushing mewing.

Joëlle Jean-Baptiste – Author

Poetic letter: "We want evil, for our good"

Gone are our promises,
In a peaceful life, caressing,
Dishes broken, cries faded,
Quickly find our liberty.

 

Sure, we hated,
We are betrayed,
Our troubled smiles fade,
Our souls pained, cry tears.

 

Children, dogs, cats, horses racy,
Houses, studios, luxury watches,
The time of reckoning has come,
Breaking the marriage of raw.

 

In these unlucky days,
Where nothing is fades,
Our actions keep in mind,
Our troubles, sharp strife. 

 

To agree as our ideas,
Faced with signs of our mistakes
Let's make peace, respect us,
Boldly surpass our doubts.

 

Despised, we want evil
The distance, gum scandal,
And forgive the old links,
Separated, for our good.

All rights reserved, Joëlle Jean Baptiste
Written for a heroine in a series.

(2) Poetic Letters. The choice.

You did not let the choice,
You had already made your road,
While I had a hope,
While I had a chance
To tell you with insistence.

This love, which overflows in my heart,
This love, that I carry with weal,

  I was as troubled,
By your words unbridled,
While I had to speak,
While I had the strength
To tell you those sweetness.

This love, which overflows in my heart,
This love, that I carry with weal,

You left without a glance,
And I stayed in silence,
While I had to dry my tears,
While I needed time
To tell you the desire.

This love, which overflows in my heart,
This love, that I carry with weal,

I read our letters sentimental,
I cried, I was impressionable,
While I had to win this battle,
While I had the courage
To tell you seeing our images.

This love, which overflows in my heart,
This love, that I carry with weal,

Chance made us meet,
Surprisingly, you had not forgotten,
While I had to decide,
While I needed have the choice
To tell you that I had left drop.

This love, that overflowed in my heart,
This love, that I wore with weal.

All rights reserved, Joëlle Jean Baptiste