Curves by La Poesia

My curves
Unlike anyone else’s curves
no curves are alike
My curves, not the most talked about
Of every female
My curves include the slow arch of my brow
To the procession of prints on my fingers
The transition of tint in the bends of my lips
My curves are the whirlwind swirls of my earlobes
And the veracious “V? of my collar bone
My curves go deeper
Than the supple skin that covers me
I am composed of curves
Circling, sinking, diving, rising
Waves of beautiful cells
Made by God, in their own category
So cannot be compared
My curves make me, shape me
Mold my many muscles
Into their rightful place
My curves comprise the simply sloped calves of my legs
The high hills of my hips, small of my back
My mighty mountains and valleys
My curves are all of me
I don’t have choice parts
All of me is beautiful
Bonifide Bodacious
Pretty Precious and Precocious
Confident and charismatic
So there’s no reason to dwindle
Or simply slim to nothing
Because God made me
My Lovely Lord and Sanctified Savior
Saves my Soul from Sun up to Sun down
Made me to be
And never had a problem with me
or my curves

The Phone Call by Kit McCallum

The call that comes in darkest sleep,
Awakens with a fright;
For 2 am, the silence breaks
The peaceful calm of night.

When only moments earlier,
I dreamt of visions fair;
Of light and love and happiness;
... Till ringing filled the air.

It beckoned me from deepest sleep,
And drew me from my daze;
I shook my head to clear my mind,
Find focus through this haze.

"How long has this been ringing?"
As I reach to find the light;
I steal a glance toward the clock,
And now my heart takes flight!

'Tis many hours before the dawn,
Yet all should be in bed;
My loved ones faces fill the night;
... My heart is filled with dread.

I struggle for composure as
I reach to grab the phone;
My stomach churns, my heart contracts;
"Are all my kids at home?"

I stumble as I grasp the handle,
Stifle silent screams;
"Oh God ... please let this phone call
Be a part of just a dream!"

My heart is racing, mind's a whirl,
Receiver's made of lead;
"Oh, how can this be happening!"
"Who's on the other end?!"

Just seconds pass and yet I find
It's been eternity;
I raise the phone to panicked ear;
"Oh please ... don't be for me!"