| Sports |
Pawn
Her cleavage revealed
Mind you
A large amount too
The perfectionist's art
Chisels away
At this show-piece
She is charred
A pause
A titter
Suddenly love appears aggressive
On the tyrant's chessboard
Checkmate!
-By David
Soroda
Who are you
I've seen you before
Of that I'm sure
You look somewhat familiar
Though seeing you now seems peculiar
Why is that?
Have we met?
You know me?
Let me see
I don't know you
But you insist I do
Let me think
I suppose I see the link
But please do elaborate
Your answer I anticipate
-By Jean Daure
My walking stick
Dear angel, your face lightens up my day,
Hey, are you not the daughter of the scribe,
Who was born when all mums celebrate May?
Are you from the genes of many a tribe?
Come on, little angel, go at length,
And make your wishes to me now,
You are my fortune, my strength,
For you will harvest what I sow,
Be my walking stick, my comfort,
I will lean on you when the journey is long,
Be strong and be like my little fort,
To rest and sing to you; a joyful song.
-By Peter Miva
Who Joe
Do you know Mr Joe
He's the one who broke your jaw
I saw him do it
It took less than a minute
Can't blame him or me
I told you always be ready
You never seemed to listen
Always had an excuse rather than a reason
The punch sent you to the wall
You hit it and bounced like a ball
Then you fell and that was it
It took less than a minute
-By Job Zigu
 
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