Saturday, 16 November 2013



I can feel it there
Deep inside
Prowling around
And a growling
Roaring sound.

I can see you
Right in front of my eyes
A vision of
A creature that is so
Colours that only
Belong to you.

 Your colours so rare
Of pure orange and black
Striped from your head
To your straight back
Who wouldn’t be frightened
Or scared of this magnificent
Big Cat.

Your reputation speaks volumes
Some not so good
They despise you
For being a killer
But what is there to do?
They have taken your kingdom
That was your kingdom come.

I see you as a beauty
I feel that beauty
Just like a rose
A symbol of love
Passion, devotion
Low and behold

Dig, dig so deep within
Your soul
Eye to eye
What do you see?
You and me
Fighting for what is right
And not what is wrong
We are of the same
Tigress to Tigress
So powerful and strong
We will never
Be the end

© Teresa Joseph Franklin
17th April 2012

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Thursday, 14 November 2013


Just that feeling from getting away from it all
Legs outstretched, leaning backwards
Oh the bliss and how I have missed this
Taking it all in
Savouring every moment, second, minute
The bouquet of flowers crushed, crumpled
Just like the moment you flattened my world
Tattered, shattered and curled
The darkest of days, the haze, the maze
Struggling to see the daylight
Walking in your shadows
The dark, dark shade just like the night
But that is all gone, long gone
The light is bright
Oh so good to be in the light
Do what I feel, see what is right
No more fear or fright
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
14th November 2013

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And oh what a dance!
The sensations so sensual
Your body so close, up close
Our bodies almost entwined, intertwined
Teasing, caressing, embracing
The gentle stroking
Up and down my spine
Arched in passion, oh what passion!
You lips just a breath away
Taking my breath away
The fire, the heat, the sizzling heat
Burning, yearning, desiring
Oh this crazy, crazy longing
For more and more
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
10th July 2013

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Wednesday, 13 November 2013


What can that mean?
Or is it your perception of the cover of the magazine?
Then maybe see behind the cover
I could be your friend or lover
Not a figure of self-importance
For instance how can you say that I am pretentious?
Showy, haughty, or ostentatious
When all you see is a figure, a figment of your imagination
There is nothing grandiose about me at all
Within these magnificent walls is an adorned, adored
Old fashioned little creature
Who loves to be loved
Cherished, wooed the old fashioned way
Caring, sharing
The giver without the receiving
So whilst I look at you looking at me
I see so much behind your exteriors
Nothing portenous, snobbish or exaggerated
You are just like me in some ways
But then again we may differ
But is that so important?
We are after all human
Unique, outstanding
Unquestionably incontestable
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
13th November 2013

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TRAMPING THE STREETS (an award winning poem Who's Who In American Poetry 2013)

These streets that have not been paved with gold
These streets are so old
These streets are so, so cold
The weather beaten sidewalks
Covered in moss, grass, so crass
These sidewalks with dust and mistrust
Passer byes with no eyes
Their heads bowed down with deep, deep frowns
They are on their phones, calling their homes
Warm and snug, without the bugs
The traffic seems endless, relentless
Not a quiet spot to slot to plot, oh the forgot!
The forgotten, begotten
Those trample these pavements
Day and night
Night and day
Looking for shelter in a world that is like a skelter
Round and round
Twisting and turning
Ending up in a ramshackle
Tumbledown shed
Is this the life to be led?
Surely there is a better life instead?
Their worn out faces
Societies erase
They know their places
Scratching out an existence
With a nickel or a dime
In all the streets grime, crime
Is this life paved with splendours?
Surely it does not!
It meanders, ganders and wonders
Just like these wondrous, not so glamorous
Pavement streets
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
10th June 2013

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Tuesday, 12 November 2013


Blowing, scattering in the wind
Flying on the winds of change
Gathering their memories of summer days
Green, yellow, with their hints of blues
The rich, rich colours to chase away the blues
Butterflies, moths and damsel butterflies
Resting, reposing and relaxing in the glorious hues
But now this is autumn
Their leaves now turned burnt red, orange colours
The skies heavily laden with the autumn weather
Rain, misty, foggy, cloudy and grey
The nights are drawing in dark and black
The land has been harvested
Crops now all stored
The butterflies have flown too
The cuckoo, the swallow and swift have flown too
To a warmer climate that suits their tunes
The showy peacock still in full feathered bloom
Strutting his feathers at the beautiful ladies
Who are listening to his tune!
Yet this is still a wonderful time of year!
There are still flowers in bloom
The hedgerows covered in the flowers of the blackberries
Soon to be picked, pickled and jarred
Fruits for all seasons
Spring, summer, autumn and winter
The season’s stores
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
20th July 2013
All Rights Reserved

Taken from the book of poems entitled
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