I was a private detective, and I was deemed one of the best,
As the colorful tulip fields, are forever attracting guests.
My skills seemed often in demand, and indeed kept me moving,
As gold days seem to go red, from our sun's endless cruising!
I loved my work a great deal, for I had an inquisitive mind,
As birdwatchers revel in vivid days, admiring each new find.
I was often quite busy, but rarely took extensive time off,
......
Everyone called Joanna Wilde, Joanie, like an abbreviated crescent moon,
Of which she was much enamored, with its silky, maroon darkness tunes.
Pert Joanie was a young night owl, loving lone whip-poor-wills, singing,
And bewitching midnight stars of glitter, and a calm silence, for thinking.
Joanie was a successful librarian, and always dreamed of advancement;
And having the morning shift, she worked hard for career enhancement.
On weekends, Joanie and fatigued friends, had fun days in fresh flowers,
......
For those of you who seek success in every job or post, these are the points you should address before you brag or boast.
In mind you need a VISION and a clear healthy dream, not just a hopeless story or a dreadful faulty scheme.
Start by laying a PLAN and set a final goal,
not just waste your precious time on thoughts you can’t control.
Share your ideas with people and learn to love your team,
it is only with PASSION you’ll achieve your final dream.
......
I was a fashionable horticulturist, for elegant flowers keep eternally in style,
Like the saffron sun, coming and going, always causing dark skies to smile.
Plants were a jade preoccupation, long before glad days of my rosy career,
Filled with such mystery and magic, bringing rare surprises year after year.
My fascinated friends adored my garden, at the corner of Violet and Green,
Visiting an August of creamy asters, after a showy, July 'falling star' scene.
My oaken door was always open, to the fine family of my affectionate heart,
......
I was an artistic, floral designer, intoxicated by the sweet-smelling blooms,
Like magenta butterfly swarms, at a standstill, intoxicated by floral fumes.
Gold days were full of my bloom designs, each one so original and unique,
Just as none are aware of vague, opaque thoughts, before we soon speak.
I worked with vibrant, live blooms and dried; silken ones and velvets, too,
Just like the myriad variety introduced, when azure skies tire of being blue.
But I longed to make that lasting impression, with an outstanding creation,
......
Everyone called Joanna Wilde, Joanie, like an abbreviated crescent moon,
Of which she was much enamored, with its silky, maroon darkness tunes.
Pert Joanie was a young night owl, loving lone whip-poor-wills, singing,
And bewitching midnight stars of glitter, and a calm silence, for thinking.
Joanie was a successful librarian, and always dreamed of advancement;
And having the morning shift, she worked hard for career enhancement.
On weekends, Joanie and fatigued friends, had fun days in fresh flowers,
......
For those of you who seek success in every job or post, these are the points you should address before you brag or boast.
In mind you need a VISION and a clear healthy dream, not just a hopeless story or a dreadful faulty scheme.
Start by laying a PLAN and set a final goal,
not just waste your precious time on thoughts you can’t control.
Share your ideas with people and learn to love your team,
it is only with PASSION you’ll achieve your final dream.
......
I was a bonafide, happy beautician, like a gorgeous, daisy sun as it is rising;
And charming, happy faces were my pursuit, like silvery moonlight uprising.
My days were a flurry of manicures and facials, like nature's green revisions,
Or gardens and fields sprouting colors, due to hidden, mysterious decisions.
I loved ruby, pleasant hours of work, and the valued customers all loved me,
Like the cool attraction which sparkles, between verdant land and green sea.
I visited fond friends, in the finally sunset, just as treasured gold was fading,
......
I was a fashionable horticulturist, for elegant flowers keep eternally in style,
Like the saffron sun, coming and going, always causing dark skies to smile.
Plants were a jade preoccupation, long before glad days of my rosy career,
Filled with such mystery and magic, bringing rare surprises year after year.
My fascinated friends adored my garden, at the corner of Violet and Green,
Visiting an August of creamy asters, after a showy, July 'falling star' scene.
My oaken door was always open, to the fine family of my affectionate heart,
......
I was an artistic, floral designer, intoxicated by the sweet-smelling blooms,
Like magenta butterfly swarms, at a standstill, intoxicated by floral fumes.
Gold days were full of my bloom designs, each one so original and unique,
Just as none are aware of vague, opaque thoughts, before we soon speak.
I worked with vibrant, live blooms and dried; silken ones and velvets, too,
Just like the myriad variety introduced, when azure skies tire of being blue.
But I longed to make that lasting impression, with an outstanding creation,
......