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Quatrain Time Poems | Quatrain Poems About Time

These Quatrain Time poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Time. These are the best examples of Quatrain Time poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Windowpanes

An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and 
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of 
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field 
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community 
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound 
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the 
evening to be appropriate for the purpose. 
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical 
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that 
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the 
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by 
our café.

When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew, I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true, A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent. I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more. Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore, The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry, As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by. The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes. The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve. My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before. She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside, And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride. Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart, For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part. Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear. The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years, Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears, When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew, And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.


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Frosted Panes - re-post

                                   
When winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again
In that old house, where you wove that coloured tapestry
With all the glorious memories of your life upon the sea

With weathered palm so deeply etched with every season past
You rubbed a porthole in the center of the frosted glass
Where outside in splendour lie a winter-wonderland
As halos rose above your head from a pipe bowl in your hand

And there upon a rocking chair as smoke rings filled the air
We rocked across a sea of dreams wind tangled in our hair
To lands I’d never been before we stepped upon those shores
And through your eyes I saw each one and still I wanted more

The morning passed in dreams between two pairs of eyes of green       
As the world outside held its breath in a sea of snowy cream
And when the chill of winter melted from the windowpane
The whistling kettle on the stove brought us home again

You held my hand and looked at me with that twinkle in your eyes
And told me you would be my Captain 'til the day I died
So when winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again 

             ~~~~~


Written:  Jan 15, 2011

Author:  Elaine George
First Place in Brian Strand's contest:  Let's See
4th   Place In - Anything goes contest

In loving memory of my Dear Papa 'Captain James George'.


Authors Note:
When I was a child of three, I Went to live for a year with my Grandparents in Nova 
Scotia. At that time my Grandfather was a retired Sea Captain of a Three Mast 
Schooner. He had spent most of his life at sea, taking lumber and coal to New 
Brunswick and various ports in the U.S. and in the winter months, would carry on  to 
pick-up and deliver  cargo in the  West Indies. Although my time with him was short, 
the memories we shared have comforted me through-out the years.  
~~~~~


   
 


 


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Heritage

The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.

Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.

I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.


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Mirror, Lie to Me

I stare at my mirror
So shocked by what I see
There is a strange woman
Staring right back at me

I must’ve been abducted
This must be a crazy trick
For the reflection that I see
Is making me quite sick

Are those horrid wrinkles?
Is that a double chin?
The neck that was my joy
Is pillar like- not thin!

My eyes have no sparkle
They look listless and glazed
Perhaps it’s hard to focus
When I feel so dazed

Maybe it’s just a dream
From which I will awake
For how could that be me?
I’m sure it’s just a fake

I pinch myself real hard
The mirror woman screams
Oh no, it must be true
Now both of us cry streams

Mirror, you’re a traitor!!!
Mirror, this is a crime!!!
I order you to hide!!!
The tell-tale signs of time!!!

Do me a small favor
Tell me a little lie
Reflect a younger me…
Oh please, give it a try!

Eileen Manassian Ghali


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No Greater Love

For God so loved this sinful world, He gave us all His son; That we might live with Him one day, when life on Earth is done. No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed, And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed. The time was short for Jesus Christ, but what He gave mankind To lift our hearts and save our souls has yet to be refined. The grace and style in which He moved through politics and fools, Has paved the way for paths we trod through worldly ways and rules. His teachings spread throughout the land, His miracles renowned, He only had to touch a life to show His love was sound. Two thousand years have come and gone since Christ communed with man; And with his dying saved us all, to serve God's ancient plan. He rose from death, as He had said, and proved His word was true, That life eternal waited those who choose to suffer through. Salvation came that fateful day, the Bible tells us so; And time has shown that through God’s love the weakest spirits grow. Now, modern times are hard on us and cause us all to doubt, For change is there at every turn, and Satan’s always out. It’s now we need the love of God, for always, as before; Just lift your heart and ask for it, and see what lays in store. It’s through God’s love we handle change and how it makes us strong In ways we deal with worldly things and sort the right from wrong. For change is just another way the Lord sees fit to use To make our days seem fresh and new with paths to take and choose. It’s by our faith we live our lives and seek a brighter day, And how we find the confidence when doubts get in the way. But most of all it’s happiness that faith’s been known to give When our misfortunes come to cloud these modern times we live. We need not fear what God has wrought. We need not know His plan. We only need to know He’s there, and love’s in store for man. Just think the words you’d ask in prayer, and ere a sound be heard, His perfect love will fill your heart before you’ve breathed a word. No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed, And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed. But God forgave our debt to Him, we live in grace today; The greatest love you’ve ever known is just a breath away.


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Another Day

A torch carried on forever, indeed,
for the aggressive rhymer in me,
is alive again, unshackled and freed,
rising to challenge another day, I see.

As I found myself lost deep in Tolkien,
with epic Star Wars, never ending,
surrounded in a geek paradise, serene,
optical illusions before me, suspending.

Life's songs on guitar strings strummed,
an epiphany unlike they've ever heard,
euphoric dreams in my visions hummed,
as I pen archaic word after archaic word.

Artistry is born only to be my brother,
encircled this star, a pentagram made,
my day is done, I have conquered another,
as the sun slowly brings down the shade.






A Word Collage For Chan Hurst



(Cyndi MacMillan's contest)


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A Time of Bliss

A Time of Bliss

Love’s a mystery to everyone falling under its magical spell,
And it would be natural to think we all know it so very well.
But with emotions ripe and afire in this special time of bliss,
It’s easy for those so smitten not to sense something amiss. 

Love’s a most potent alchemy enchanting at once one’s soul,
And when it’s returned in kind it makes one’s life quite whole.
The pure passion that love excites is beyond all earthly compare,
Which makes it an emotive force not subject to any trifled dare.

Love’s a time of bliss when a couple’s very love melds them as one,
And affairs of the heart shape their fate as two souls form as one.
This is the moment when lovers rejoice in such unbridled pleasure,
When each knows they’ve found a love so rare for eternity to treasure.

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved – February 1, 2015
(Rhymed Quatrain)


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Two Brothers Known as Time

One brother, not well-liked by me,
is friends with early light.
Born in a prior century,
he measures day from night.

He comes with neither fangs nor claws,
and yet it makes me cringe
to see him at my door because
he darkens evening’s fringe.

I much prefer his modern kin,
who from man’s tampering,
keeps coming round and round again
to greet us in the spring . . .

A rescuer this younger one!
His middle name implies
he lengthens days by helping Sun
prolong light in the skies.

That brother, Daylight Saving Time,
the one I like the best,
departs each fall. Oh, what a crime
He’s not a constant guest!


For the SAVING DAYLIGHT Poetry Contest of john lawless


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Cry In The Dark

As you cry in the dark and your tears find the pillow
You think I don't know, those tears filled with such sorrow
Are for that long ago love, then comes tomorrow
I wish for today, your heart I could borrow

Dreams filled with the memory of her face
Wisps of her hair, visions of ribbon and lace
The look in her eyes, another time and place
I wish this from your mind, I could forever erase

But war time came and took you away
And never knowing your fate, day after day
Time took its toll, as time will do
She went on with life, her life without you

As I cry in the dark and my tears find the pillow
You'll never know, these tears filled with such sorrow
Are those longing for love, again comes tomorrow
I wish for today, your heart I could borrow

©Donna Jones




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Death is Not the Enemy

I have found myself at the threshold of death on several occasions. Each time I managed to 
look it in the eye, doff my hat and say, “I’ll catch you up the trail.” This is not to say that I 
am some special breed of hombre that casually defies death, for there have been many who 
have gone the way before me and managed the confrontation in heroic decorum. 
Nevertheless, death is not some evil state of being that only the brilliant or daring may defy; 
nor is it a release from the severity of life. If anything, death is the threshold of eternity. Life 
provides all known qualities, conditions, trials and tribulations that we encounter throughout 
the fruition of our purpose.

Oh, death is not the enemy, for life provides our foes, The ills, disease and suffering… the countless other woes; For this is as it was ordained since Earth was yet to be, When life evolved on other planes, the eye will never see. We all embrace our time and grow in body, mind and soul. We foster wisdom, strength and faith, fulfilling every role. Prepared or not, the time will come, our form will waste away, While life goes on, as is ordained by He who plans the way. No, death is not the enemy, an end that one should fear. It’s but a threshold for the soul to doff its mortal gear, While life transcends its bond with Man to dwell forevermore With He, whose force conceived all life and is its very core.


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Reality Check

What should I say to describe this empty feeling,
 like I'm missing something I could call Home.

How would I come to deny a thought revealing,
 given time and place, I'd invent my own.

A time spent in a state of agonizing pain,
 A place of worship I would not forgive.

Only the mind undoes the past through vision gained,
 in boundless timeless Love it all but lives.


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Fireside Conversation

Unravel your ego
sit down for a spell
Let the cool green glass
of deception dispel
Wind all your hair 
'round the wheel and dissolve
Tell me your story
and we'll be involved
You will be captain
and I your first mate
in the skies of forgiveness
pop bubbles of hate
We'll write out our names
with invisible ink
and laugh 'till we hadn't 
a thought left to think
Sipping hot cocoa
'round fires of trust
we'll bandage depression
with cider and rust
and blow concentration
'till wishes ensue
and glisten in glass 
like reflections of you


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Eternal Everlasting Joy

Sometimes, I think about my life
And the prices I have paid
All the places I have been
The choices I have made

Seems somewhere along the path
I stumbled upon a stone
At that moment I realized
I’d forgotten my way home

My home became a prison cell
My memory was forgotten
My soul was like an egg
An egg that had gone rotten

Sorry I had to go away
You didn’t deserve my shame
I moved very far away
No connection to my name

My life has always been a lie
One I kept hidden from you
When you thought I was in college
Serving time up in the zoo

On the day I was released
You thought I graduated
The moment you were most proud
Another lie to be hated

I have learned it’s never to late
I believe those words are true
Grandma I’m on a mission
I will graduate for you

I really want to earn the pride
You gave me so long ago
I think it will bring some peace
Releasing guilt up in my soul


I’ve learned in the game of life
We must earn our pride
Even if the people are gone
Resting on the other side

I’ve learned in the game of life
Even though they may be hard
Choices aren’t like rolling dice
They're not like flipping cards

Choices define who we are
I know these words are true
Every choice I know make
Are bringing me back home to you

Grandma, I know where heaven is
It’s right here inside my heart
Inside of mine your memory
Until death will never part

During the time I have left
I vow to always let it show
All the seeds you sowed in me
I shall nourish as they grow

In the end I’ll sit with you
Just like when I was a boy
We’ll sing and praise Jesus’ name
With eternal everlasting joy




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The Day Time Stood Still

It was just another morning
when it started out that day
with all our plans and schedules
we hurried on our way
Then time stood still before us
as in our disbelief
we watched in silent horror
wrapped in sorrow, filled with grief
The tragedy unfolded
as the minutes passed us by
the minutes turned to hours
and we kept on asking why
We prayed to God in Heaven
as we faced so many fears
and paralyzed within our shock
we cried a million tears
As the sky was falling down
with eyes too blurred to see
we cried for every precious life
and for humanity
I know the earth kept turning
as the hours slipped away
but while our world was shattering
time stood still that day




Dedicated to all those whose lives were touched by that tragic day -  9/11/01


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BC Had Greatness

B.C. has been the acronym applied 
for all events before out dear Lord’s birth.
Who knew another god would change the tide
and wield a power of great global worth?

To what do I refer? Or have you guessed
the god to which we each now bow our head?
No matter our religion, all are blessed
with this thing vital as our daily bread.

It took away the jobs of common men
and gave new jobs to geeks. You now must know
this god of our new world, who loves all sin
as well as good, has nothing it won’t show!

I think “Before Computers” seems a way
to say A.D.  became a new B.C.
Now things have changed so much that I would say
that my own past is ancient history!

Before Computers, life was not so fast,
and even in the 90’s I could keep
abreast of news and make my free time last.
High-tech today both makes me thrill and weep!

More time for family, a slowed down pace,
more time for God; I weep for things we’ve lost.
yet thrilled am I to see the human race
now bonding. But we do it at what cost?

Our children growing lazy, rude, and fat
and less connected, addicts to a phone!
To play outside. . . . Do you remember that?
B.C. meant doing more things on your own.

With jobs, our kids and all our lives at stake,
we now embrace our new computer age,.
Omitting our true God is the mistake
that might well do us in; we must be sage!

Recall the values getting left behind
as into this computer age we cruise.
Look back to decades past and you will find
B.C. had greatness that we must not lose.


For Deb's Contest (B.C. = Before Computers)


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A Ripple In Time

An angel kissed a ripple
Onto a glassy sea
And in that very instant
A baby came to be

A hundred times she kissed it
A hundred thousand more
Each time the troubled surface
More troubled than before

The ripples started crossing
And people crossing too
In time made each their ripple
Like as that ocean blue

So here is my petition
Oh Jesus, hear my plea!
That all my parting wavelets
Be marked in time for Thee


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Questions Unanswered

Another day comes
another one goes
and when it will end
no one really knows
time marches faster
with each passing day
as I'm watching life
just slipping away.
The hours tick by
as into the night
hurting and hopeless
devoid of my light
I'm seeking answers
to set my mind free
should I keep trying
or should I still be?
Where am I going
and what should I do
am I a failure
who's washed up and through?
The rest of the days
that I have left here
surely are numbered.
my heart sheds a tear.
So much time wasted
so many dreams killed
I feel my heart quake
another tear's spilled.
The morning draws near
no answers I find
searching these chambers
alone in my mind.
Do I have value
and what is my worth
am I just wasting
my time on this earth?
Answers evade me
as time ticks away
my heart is weeping
as I kneel to pray.
Dear God please tell me
please give me a sign
am I just crazy
by my own design?
Will I be able
to conquer my pain
or will I always
feel like I'm insane?
What is my meaning
where do I fit in
before my life's through
why did it begin?
Questiond unanswered
I notice the sun
another day's over
another's begun.


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The Old Shoe Box

The Old Shoe Box

A box of old shoes under the stair,
Discarded, unwanted, no matching pair.
No longer needed, pushed out of sight.
Resigned to this box, and a fast fading light.

Soft supple leather with creases to spare, 
Polished and nourished with infinite care,
Deep, deepest red, black cherry hue,
Once, long ago, a fine ladies shoe.

Dirty old canvas all tatty and frayed,
Laces have gone with age they have strayed.
Way back in time in Olympics it shone,
The end of an era, the last race is run.

A crusty old boot with steel in the hide,
Remembers the days the land it would stride,
Helped build this country relished the role,
Undaunted, unbowed, grit in the sole.

A soft velvet slipper its partner long gone,
Lies quiet in the box while the world moves along,
Once in a while a pale silken glove,
Holds it so gently and strokes it with love.

Such a wearisome time in this box of rejects,
What happens now? What happens next?
Each knows the answer. No use debating.
It’s the end of the line, and Heaven is waiting.
~~~~


Written after a visit to a local nursing home.....
21st January 2010 


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we our souls will spend our time repenting

we our souls will spend our time repenting 
but the body of truth always comes to light 
in drawing an end to come with true believers 
so they can see the many faces of the devil 

greed in this world money takes over always
as they worship first with the devil’s tools 
invading our space all for the sake of black 
liquid gold tainted hearts in its color so pure 

shame on this world absolutely for mankind
has not learned at all given profound problems
aplenty and stands the testimony of our times 
while war does not resolve anything—death’s end 

only when family lives are directly affected 
they have the fighting right to protect and live 
wherever they choose but we are all controlled 
and always told what to do openly or furtively 

in a system rolling unto the end of mankind
shut eyes in the face of truth and honesty 
the whole setup is a joke makes one laugh 
countries run amok and history repeats itself 

doing the devil’s work at command or by one’s will 
while throwing our money around with profligate zeal 
like they are usually royalty by some birthright and 
this says so much for the world we live in today 

looking at their greed it’s oh so clear for all to see that
with food dished out on silver cutlery and others starving
our priorities have run afoul of charity and common sense
running everything into the ground to support their lies

present catching the past and past is the future’s prologue 
Earth soon develops a chasmic breach at depths reaching a 
heart's song unheard powers unchanging with a most awful
and pronounced Quest of more which destroys the very Soul 

in a such a pitiful world so desolate and blind 
are pure souls who wish with love to shine bright 
one chance will come with a golden sun shining 
but will human kind seize the golden glory at hand 

two paths lie in tomorrow’s dawning shadow dark— 
the path to the end or to the new beginning for mankind 
we live ever together striving for a peaceful endeavor 
we live at war forever on the very fringes of Hell itself 

the way to Armageddon lies open and wants to greet us 
the way to the golden life of peaceful bliss is still possible 
but at tomorrow's dawn do we change our path or will we 
sing the song of stupidity and be dark from tomorrow on 

We must have peace . . . In Our Time or Perish Forever!

Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke – 
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved 
(December 4, 2014) (Quatrain unrhymed poetic form)


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The First Time Ever I Saw Your face

The first time ever I saw your face
It was at the wrong time and in the wrong place
There was no coffee bar but a castle for two
That’s the first time, that I ever saw you.

The look of surprise and of love shone my way
No discomfort no shyness made a wonderful day
The first time ever I saw your face
I never thought it would really take place.

The touch of your hand on my waiting fingers
The spark of love still sits there and it still lingers
The first time ever I saw your face
My eyes closed, I can feel where my fingers did trace.

To learn the lines and the smile that I love so much
To feel the warmth of your heart in every tender touch
The first time ever I saw your face
That now haunts me and fills every single space.

A face that looks my way, although from afar
A face I see next to mine, that shines as a star.
The first time ever I saw your face
Is embedded in my heart and will never be backspaced.

© 1/12/2012~GG~



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YESTERYEAR'S MELODY

A melody from yesteryear 
Plays softly on the wind--
A mix of myrrh and honey,
A wistful sweet and bitter blend.

Fond memories of bygone days,
Of long departed friends.
Of hollyhocks and lilacs,
A reverie that never ends.

A vision of a one-room school
Set in a woodland glade--
Of children playing joyfully
There in a spreading oak tree's shade.

A farmer toiling in his field
Behind a horse and plow.
No air conditioned tractors
As modern farmers do it now.

A rustic, weathered, country church,
A Sunday morning bright
Glows fondly now in memory,
Bathed in nostalgia's hallowed light.

A barefoot boy with fishing pole
Beside a lazy stream.
A song in perfect harmony 
Played in that golden summer dream.

Oh memories, sweet memories
Locked in my soul to stay.
Oh melody, sweet melody,
A haunting song of yesterday. 


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Embryonic Time Travelers

Time travel has always fascinated man
Could UFOs be steered by human hands
Consider this premise before you say no
So called “grays” resemble human embryos

Evolution proceeds, gene pool depleted
Mind power expanded but bodies weakened
Future man looks back in a quest to erase
Effects of the technology we embrace

With smog blocking sun’s rays, skin has turned gray
Bodies thin as meat exits the food parade
Reproduction is challenged by low-grade genes
Sad Earthlings search the past and like what they see

Tan, healthy bodies adorned by hairy manes
Fertile women who suckle innocent babes
Men of great strength who clear forests with axes
Strong immune systems when a virus attacks

In sore need of genetic material
Large-brained grays devise a means for time travel
Abductees are beamed to aircraft by bright rays
Frightened while forced to donate their sperm and eggs

Time travelers say nothing, perhaps ashamed
To be stealing from ancestors in this way
Capacity for learning greatly enhanced
But the grays know nothing of sex or romance

When farmers find signs of mutilated cattle
Such evidence should not provoke a call to battle
If future man’s life is genetically revived
Meat may be required to keep humans alive

Don’t hide in terror when you see colored lights
Spinning in circles on chilly autumn nights
Close encounters, but abductees’ lives are spared
Returned to their homes by captors who care

Consider the fate of new generations
If you’re called upon to make a “donation”
Experiments grays perform may seem absurd
But they may be trying to save our own world


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Find My Way

Darkness is killing my will to fight
The way to climb beyond my scope
Searching for a ray of light
In an oasis called hope

Feel like a stranger in my house
Drying inward from the edge
Climbing like a spider
Got stuck in my own web

The clouds in the sky
Add to my tears
The balloons in my hand
Do not bring me cheers

Nothing to push me down from here
I can only jump without fear
I break the balloons, I dare the rain
I splash in my web full of my tears

Here I come, you can push me away
I will find my way to dodge you away
Not everytime can I go astray 
A day will come I will find my way


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One picture at a time

A toddlers Crayola masterpiece marks the box
Where the story of our days now tarry
Passages tilting the axis of a bittersweet equinox
As photographs eclipse yesterday and today unvaried 

The plans we made for a life
After years of work and worry
Useless installments when your partner dies
The crumbling of everything you once held firmly

Riveted, uprooted with every slide
Scenes of "our time" bring you back to life
I step from earth, you from the sun, for yet another goodbye
And the dam finally collapses behind brave hazel eyes

But not the brokenness your death left behind
Still, though no more than ashes it resides
Like faded photographs etched in the mind
Fanning the embers... one picture at a time

Rage rises, for you left me alone
Without refuge for all life's trials
And our sons fatherless before they were grown 
Every step feeling more like a mile

I've grieved so long 
And tried to move on
Like river water never looking back
But it's motion sings the the words to our song

Leaving me afraid I'll never belong
Or live out the plan we devised
For all my days my efforts give way
Blundering, burdened and blind

How does one truly recover
When the mate of their soul is no more
Or pass from one realm to yet another
When the walls of your heart no longer have a door? 

Frustration builds like Lego towers
toppling to the floor under the weight of the world
Is it grief or something disguised by cowards
When a heart gets stuck from the pain that it's learned? 

This ode to a man 
Who in covenant took my hand
The marriage equator engraved a permanent mark...
For his death left a total eclipse of my heart

Crazy as a loon
But my God... how I loved you
My eyes fixed upon our favored moon
And I wonder... Do you miss me too?

Anniversaries used to be a joyous accomplishment
Marking years of selfless love made
Now it serves only an acknowledgement 
Of a life interrupted by a cruel twist of fate

Of ill trusted hopes 
And a future unmade
For us left behind to cope
With memories and photographs fading away

On this the 2nd anniversary...
            Of your passing away



In memory of my husband of 25 years
Charley Romani 
(My Beloved)



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As Far As I Can

Sore to the bone
Running on a drop of energy
Just gotta push through
I'll rest eventually

My shoulder has gone numb
But my body feels her weight
As if she's gotten heavy
Since her unconscious state

If I could, I'd stop right now
But who knows how safe it is here
And if I could even start again
I may fall asleep I fear

Soon my body will give up
But I'll make it as far as I can
And hopefully haven isn't too far
And I can put her in helping hands

Walking all day and night
It's hard not to think on past
And any thought I come up with
Has me struggling to hold sobs back

I've kept my ears open
Trying to focus on only sounds
But all I keep on hearing
Is my shoes crunch on foreign grounds

Bang. I hear it softly.
So far but still so near.
Bang. Another gunshot sounds
And I've collapsed in fear.

I close my eyes but another goes off
This time in a memory
And now I'm filled with rage
At how repulsive humans can be

My thoughts turn to my baby
Slipping off of my shoulder
I set her down and examine her
Bloodstained gown and skin colder

My worst nightmare but it can't be true
I listen in for her sweet breath
No. No No. No No. No No.
What's this silence? This isn't death.

This time I don't close my eyes
I see a sight that makes me sob
Memory of the last I saw my wife
And now my baby's with her mom.

Each one of us left covered in crimson
By a monster, a gunshot, a blow
Their death is the death of me.
This is as far as I can go.


May 2010
Inspired by Morris Gleitzman's novel "Once," a historical fiction about a boy in Poland
during the Holocaust.


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Twilight

The time of day to power a poet's fancy
Is that delay between the day and night
When rosy glows streak in the west horizon;
That lovely interlude we call twilight.

Somewhere between the daylight and the  darkness,
The remnants of the sun still hanging there, 
The twilight chases burdens of the daytime,
And gives us sweet respite from daily care

This mystic time the poets call the gloaming,
A  lingering salute to end of day,
Comes long enough to usher in the nighttime
And welcome in the moon and star display.

This half-light often brings quixotic dreaming,
Lulling noisy birds to join the quietude. 
A gift from God for those of lonely spirit,
Bestowed on them to bless their solitude.



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A Letter to My Son

Your going has left a hole in my heart that time,
The Great Healer, cannot repair.
Your going has left a hole in my existence
That forever and beyond will not heal,
A hole ever expanding from its own nothingness,
A hole through which all the goodness,
All the kindness of you is slipping through.
You were my sounding board.
Trite ideas offered, came back
Enhanced, brilliant and sparkling.
Borrowing intelligence from you, I grew wiser.
Doors opened before me as I strove to be worthy
Of you, my beloved son.
I go on now as you would have me do,
Searching in Nature for the joy 
You found in its wonders.
Hearing bird songs with your ears,
Relating to others with your empathetic instincts.
Striving, ever striving to be the person
And mother that you believed me to be
And never letting your memory grow dim
For those you loved and for whom you sacrificed.

You came into this world with a wisdom
That did not come from me.
I thank God each day for His lending you to me
For the time that I had you near
And I cling to His promise
That I will see you again.

I could not tell from whence you came,
Born with a wisdom that did not come from me,
And I do not know where you have gone,
Part of myself, the better part--into Eternity.

Originally entered as verse

Rewritten:

A Letter to my Son

Your going has left a hole in my heart
That Time, that great healer cannot repair.
Your going  left  space in my existence
That forever and more will still be there.

Ever expanding from it nothingness
A hole from which your goodness has slipped through.
The kindnesses you wore as a halo
Have disappeared as well since I lost you.

I used you as a sounding boad to measure
The wisdom and the beauty of the world.
Your ideas were so clear and brilliant,
Through you my own best aptitudes unfurled.

I'm trying to live up to your standards.
I want to be more worthy of you, Son.
You told me once I was the perfect mother,
And with you life was such a lot of fun.

I thank God every day for loan of you.
The time we had was more than worth the pain.
And now I'm clinging tight to his promise
That some day I will see you once again. 

I do not know from whence you came,
Blessed with wisdom  that did not come from me.
Each day I pray I know where you have gone;
Taking my heart into Eternity.





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The Meaning Of Love

The Meaning of Love

Sitting on the water the moon dipping in his toes
Water rippling down, towards the sea it goes.
Making love under the moonlit sky so bright
As one together, on one never-to-be forgotten night.

Ripples of water matched by ripples of fear
Trembling together but not even near
Eons apart but matched in one thought
It cannot be stopped, it cannot be fought.

The moon need not be there, the river may dry up
The stars never seen, the wine they did not sup
Together they can be as one without even a touch
In thought and word only, the passion too much.

To fetch the passion to it’s desired end
Words of love and time one needs to spend
To come and reach the final conclusion
Together as one, it is no illusion.

Happiness can be reached though eons apart
Though time and circumstance tug at the heart
To never be alone in word thought or deed
Always to be there, when the other is in need.

© 22/12/2012 ~GG~


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So Late So Soon

I sat down to write, 
but no thoughts would come.
Still thinking and thinking,
I said, “This is dumb!”

One look at the clock,
and what did I see?
I’d started at  one
and now it was three!

The page of my tablet
showed white like the snow.
Where, my friends, where
did the  precious time go?

I got myself up
and decided to clean,
but people kept calling -
You know what I mean?

My sister, my mother,
then old Uncle Fred.
I couldn’t believe it.
I thought he was dead!

I glanced at the clock.
It was already five.
The only GOOD thing:
Uncle Fred is alive!

I needed to go
to the gym and the store,
but I just couldn’t get
myself out the door.

The gym I postponed.
So what else is new?
I just had too much
of housework to do.

Outside was still day light.
I thought I’d get done
By seven at least
when still I’d see sun!

But once I got started, 
I just couldn’t stop.
I vacuumed and scrubbed,
then danced with a mop!

I looked out the window.
The sky had grown black.
Saner folks now
would be hitting the sack!

Propped up on a pillow
I sat down again,
this time on my bed
with that old shoulder pain.

My poem wrote itself
by the light of the moon.
So how did it get to be
so late so soon?

Inspired by the Contest of Casarah Nance
And the Dr. Seuss quote:  “How did it get to be so late so soon?”

Note: There is no Uncle Fred!! Just some poetic license!


Details | Quatrain | |

4 in less than forty

                           1 

Have to be somewhere in 40 mins
Enough time to write at least one
Fortunately I’m not using and pens
Else I would not be close to done

Of course you see the form I write
One familiar yet still complicated
It should be easy I write every night
Why my poems are often post dated

Halfway there only three minutes gone
Can I write eleven of these in my time
Maybe but could I post them all as well
Not sure, but I wouldn’t even bet a dime

The last I didn’t rhyme of first and third
I will admit I normally will rhyme abab
But in my amount of time that’s absurd
I am trying to finish quickly as you see

                             2

I already finished one how about another
The next line already in my head of course
Now you are probably saying o brother
This guy is a distinct body member of a horse

Really it’s just practice and having a bit of fun
I am definitely bored at this very early hour
I’m also texting a friend here and think of pun
I’d tell her what I think, but she might be sour

The last of course was purely a joke my friend
No evil thoughts currently in my head Miss PD
I at present, do not have that emotion to lend
Or maybe it was serious the last stanza hehehe

This is so much fun, a great way to pass time
You should try it, if you would possibly dare
I have said time a million times in my rhyme
Take time reading them, go ahead and stare