< enticing to eyes watching mama's pink roses bloom
fourty years later someone else now cares for them
fresh cut daily and seen in her arms their long stems
tears streaming down face I sit under swollen moon
waiting watching for sun to come up again soon
to catch one more glimsp of mama's planted old gems
unfurling petals before been chopped or condemned
think I'll ask if can take one for my dining room
aroma bursting amidst thy supper's table
bowed heads we come and thank our Heavenly father
somebody still cared though sick and times unable
and answers it's door for which one has come bothered
to let bask in roses empowering fable
and not to be called as it's one's roses robber
French Sonnet is a poem with rhyme scheme
Of ABBAABBA and CDCDCD
Or ABBAABBA and CDECDE
Syllable count is 12 syllable per line.
I stand upon our Makakilo hill
And gaze toward the valley calm and still.
The brilliant sun will soon be rising high
Morphing rays of gold in the twilight sky.
The clouds are rimmed in light as Sol ascends.
Another day in paradise begins—
As birds begin their chorus in the trees
Our flag waves softly in Hawaiian breeze.
A floral scent embraces humid air
Of heaven's divine fragrance sweet and fair.
I love to rise before the dawn each day
Enriched by nature's wonders as I pray.
I see the good in all mankind and know
That peace will come to nations as we grow.
Happy Easter to Everyone!
< amidst grass carpet he plays
long ears bushy tail white paws
nibbles bulbs munches away
poor little thing had some flaws
hides hair braided and despaired
didn't stop this little guy
thought to self this wasn't fair
bowed head and started to cry
nectar is what he had sought
on this hopeful days journey
not to be trapped or be caught
or carted off on gurney
Mister Nibbles came to play
In garden's bedding today
Rustling maples break vows of silence,
naturally. As pleased, spears of hyacinth
worship breezes with such soft reverence
that we give pause in this living labyrinth.
Nothing here is still; wood thrush reverb
good news and cicadas buzz testimonials.
Nearby, a creek mumbles, Word-Word
while squirrels glorify their bounty. All
is abuzz with joy, save for the shade
under a weathered cross; it’s emptiness
resurrects veneration. A butterfly wades
the sudden hush, lands on your hand, nests.
My friend, you lift it to wood, sympathizing
on bent knee, speechlessly evangelizing.
Loyola House is a Jesuit retreat in Guelph Ontario, where one can take a
one day vow of silence to reflect, ponder and celebrate our God and his workings.
*Written for Dear Brian, a wonderful poet, painter and friend... who is truly humble.
I do not browse his pages enough... when I do, I am always moved in some way,
inspired by his voice.
Thank you Brian... you give and have given so much of yourself her on Soup.
All those contests (over 200), motivational and thought evoking blogs,
never once provactive or reactive... I hope one day to mature into
the kind and generous person you are. Pray for me LOL ;) I need them
God bless you and your family...
If there were ANYONE who should receive a lifetime membership to Soup
AS AN ACHIEVEMENT AWARD, as gratitude for your years of servitude here,
it IS you...
I am a chatterbox. I spent a day here, struggling with self-containment... but if I
Brian had been there... I suspect that I would have enjoyed a shared, comfortable
A gentle being, is the rose;
though its nails can be quite sharp.
The lovely flower, I suppose;
controls the human heart.
For valentines, it bleeds so red;
for mother’s, yellow sun.
All will bow their lovely heads;
once their day is done.
Their fragrance, it will mesmerize;
all those who are near.
It doesn't matter, what their size;
lovers, they draw near.
So much more regal than the rest;
the rose, is nature’s family crest,
Great grin, glow, O glow, ‘til grizzled I grow, humming
Brightly bring bliss back before boredom burns me black
My morn muse minding merry mountains’ moulded rock
Tantalizes thoughtless thought that taunts thoughtless thing
Lulling, longing, life with you, my love lives each day
Whispering wind warmly wheeze words o’ awe, I feel
Forever, firm beauty you own, as always will
Be beauteous blossom, bed o’ boredom stays at bay
Dearest darling, don’t dare dry honeyed aroma
Tempest thorns o’ thunders though sure to us they throw
Yet, you-- yodelled youth o’ yore to death not to sow
And, Angels adore you-- Clematis Cirrosha
Let love o’ mine, for you, flow in the darkest night
Heart diamond o’ thine, how precious is your light
Who has created deep azure sky,
In which, the clouds do love to float and sail?
And who has embellished the butterfly
With colorful beauty in detail?
Who does shower the snow in the winter?
In foggy days who spreads mist curtains ?
Who has crafted the curves of the rives?
Who has embossed the range of high mountains ?
Who streched the bands of seven colors,
Who has constructed the arch of rainbow?
Who has gifted the birds cozy feathers,
And made them able to fly to and fro?
I do adore the Divine Artisan,
Who has made the world in such perfection.
The task today is how to carve a tree
our solemn way: make totems of a tree:
fox shapes, crow forms, wise masks. Just any tree
won't do. In storms, look for a dancing tree;
in calm, go seek a stately, whispering tree
that, like a church, holds quiet. Hear that tree--
unguarded conversation of a tree
is worry about squirrels, bird nests.
of Life, of beams, the Balm of Gilead--tree
that sways, and dreams of sails. A secret tree
with beauty hidden in growth rounds of tree
If you find the proper tree
the first sun catches golden on that tree
while lasting rays cling longest on that tree.