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Husband Tribute Poems | Husband Poems About Tribute

These Husband Tribute poems are examples of Husband poems about Tribute. These are the best examples of Husband Tribute poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Ode to My Husband

Ode to My Husband
What a wonderful, magical surprise! Sometimes love arrives in disguise. I never saw this coming, Never anticipated such an awesome blessing. I was at the right place, When I spied your sweet, handsome face. It was at the right time, When you called me your goddess and I knew you were mine. Until I met you, I was like a sad, little bird with no songs to sing, With only broken wings, l had to work my way through some hurtful things.
But you came along, A real man, unselfishly offering me strong, broad shoulders to lean on. It was a long, slow process getting back on track, But you were patient and willing to take the burden off my back. When I was lost and alone, you showered me with loving attention, Tenderness, kindness, and consideration. You nurtured and cherished me each step of the way, Building my confidence and trust each day. Thank you for helping my fragile heart to mend, Thank you for helping me become whole and to love again!
Entered in contest "Best love poem #3" sponsored by Poet Destroyer A (5-26-2014)


Details | Rhyme | |

Pal

Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”

Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”

One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But, there, to his surprise…

Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
Then, after the last one was planted,
He sniffed it; then turned and licked Bob’s face.

Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”

Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.

Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed. 
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.

Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he ‘d come on the double.

Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray, 
“Lord, let this day be my last.”

For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one night,
Bob quietly passed away.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….

Stood an old dog beside the grave, 
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place. 
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then turned and licked her face.

She smiled.  “I had a dog when I was young….
a good one too.  His name was Pal.”


Details | Elegy | |

The Lament For an Angel

All in one faded-black day (but let None forget) In my arms, her body lay (my life was the price to pay) A tragedy, through the lack of humanly shame (do they know pain) My darkly colleen has to suffer no more (Robert nor do you) Let me die (please hear my haunted cries) If I can not see Sophie tonight (live on with my grey) I'm just a mess of despairing words And broken nerves Another mourning, afflicted sight (through decay, love can remain) Solace, sympathy are just more lies She is all I need Until you decide she is just another sadist's toy My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away My Angel, just let one feather stay My Angel has flown away My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away My Angel, just let one feather stay My Angel has flown away (My body is amortal, die I may, Together, our hearts will forever stay)


Details | I do not know? | |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


Details | Rhyme | |

Her Sense of Humor

A slight hint of consternation was in her voice,
“Why did you tell those people I’m deaf and dumb?”
“I never said you were deaf, my Dear.”
She laughed, but I kinda felt like a bum.

Hell.  It was just a joke.

One evening, she asked, “Will you love me if I get chubby?”
I responded, “Of course I still love you.
It would take much more than pounds and cellulite
To make me fall out of love…it’s true.”

Hell.  It was just a joke.

“Would you remarry if I die before you?” she asked.
I said, “No…probably not…I’ve been spoiled by you.”
“But you’ve been a great husband. I think you should.”
“Whatever happens, happens is the best I can do.”

“If you remarried, would you play golf with your new wife?
And would you let her use my clubs?” she demanded.  
I calmly smiled and said, “Your clubs are safe.
You see, my Dear…she’s left handed.”

Hell.  It was just a joke.

Then, she whined and whined about her butt.
I responded, “Want to knock some inches off that ass?
It may sound strange, but I heard it works….
Rinse all your panties in Slim Fast.”

Hell. It was just a joke.


The next day, I readied for work, took ‘undies’ from my drawer.
They were engulfed in a fog of white, why I didn’t know.
So, I asked, “Honey! Why did you put talcum powder on my shorts?”
She slyly smiled, “That’s not talcum powder.  That’s Miracle Gro.”

Hell.  It was just a joke....I guess.

So, what is my wife’s most endearing feature?
Her sense of humor.... there’s no doubt.
Always a smile where angst or anger might have been,
A smile I never want to be without.



Details | Light Poetry | |

Programmers Paradise

Hubby was talking about the job he was at: when he suddenly…
Got into the ‘Computer Programmers Mode’. Where absolutely…
Everything became ‘DITS & DOTS, and DARS & FARS’…
No more caffeine for Hubby any time this week, at home!

This lingo of his, only belongs at work, where he IS an Uber Geek.
But here at home… you gotta know… he’s only talking to me!
It must be like the dreams he has, with reams and reams of code.
And tables of papers are stacked to the ceiling, or maybe to his nose.

It’s an APP-APP here, and an APP-APP there, to tie the Data to his code.
Make it go faster! Make it go smarter! In his own little world, you know.
His eyes have glazed, as his fingers flash over his fancy keyboard at home.
If only me, his little old wifey- poo, could get such attention as this, to know.

At least, he keeps my computers running, like crazy, and way up to snuff!
Now if only he’d give me the time of day… to get my own work done.
With a type-type here, and a type-type there: I definitely blow his mind.
He’d fix my typing, if only he could, with a new app, well designed.

The ‘Trouble with Tribbles’ is nothing, as when confronting an Uber Geek.
Microsoft falls into a hush, as they whisper out his name and fame complete.
For Halloween, he hooks up electronics, with apps to animated programming…
Never Fear! Hubby’s here! Next, the Turkey will be clucking binary coding.

He made Santa a GPS, which goes to mars and beyond: It’s simply otherworldly.
But now he’s talking in binary code… I hope Hubby’ll land home, soon, surely.
For with DITs & DOTS, and DARS & FARS it’s getting way past midnight.
I know he’ll be back to earth soon, tho, for it’s time to say goodnight!
 


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Lyric | |

Viagra and Beer

Too much Viagra and beer.
Too much Viagra and beer.
My wife was out of town,
I hit every club around.
Each time I'd hope to find
A horny woman here.

Country Bob's was the last club that was open.
Near blind drunk and horny, but I was still hopin'.
A pretty woman gave me a glance,
Smiled and said, "Nice pants.
Honey, I'm ridin' if you're ropin'."

A few hours later, I was in a Helluva mess
She's still ridin' hard and screamin', "God, this is the best!"
I was dizzy and light-headed. I had pains in my chest,
But she wouldn't stop long enough to call EMS.

When I came to, I was home in my own bed,
Next to my lovely wife; and this is what she said:
"I picked you up at Country Bob's, my dear;
And there's gonna be some changes around here.

You were fantastic last night;
So, I only think its right
If I supplement your diet 
With Viagra and beer."

Viagra and beer. Viagra and beer.
She treats me like a king,
Says I make her body sing;
So, I'm happy on my diet of Viagra and beer.

Yes, I'm happy on my diet of Viagra and beer.


Submitted by: Buzz O'Words
Written: 3/3/14


Details | Free verse | |

Watching Us Age

I'm watching you age
into wiser smiles, measured steps.
(Your lines look beautiful)

Gravity of life reshaped
our foolish expenses of energy
(Oh, the hurrying we did together)

wasted vanity of emotions.
I love our becoming...
more vast of vivid moments

(Our expanding normal bits)
gnarled with experiences.


Details | ABC | |

12-14-12

Just a day
“Good Night Mom and Dad” I said before I went to bed. “We love you” they said as they closed the door
Mom comes in and wakes me up “Time to go to school” as my feet hit the floor
I got dressed and ate breakfast and got my book bag and now we are on the go
We sit in the car listening to music “It’s Friday I think I’m a little excited tho
“Alright baby we here” as mom open the door to let me get out
She closed the door and kissed me on the head told me she loved me before she pulled off
Another day of school and it close to Christmas
I can’t wait to see Ashley and Alexus, today is show and tell as I said in a whisper
We had learning center day and Boy! Was it fun!
Today was a free day and on Friday there isn’t much to learn
The room was quite when the was a knock at the door, the door opened
A man with a big gun was standing there; my classmates panicked and started to run
I heard a lot of noises and a lot of screams
I felt a sharp pain in my back as I dropped to my knees
In the distant I heard more screams and then everything went silent
Then I closed my eyes it went dark and on the cold floor I was dying
The other side
It’s Thursday night and off to bed we go 
I kiss my 5 year old son Jaden and told him I loved him so
Alarm clock goes off and it’s around 6:15 in the morning 
I shower got dress and woke up Jaden my little darling
Its Friday, I fixed him breakfast and we headed out for the this last day until the weekend
I enjoyed our little drives to school as we sat in the car singing
I opened the door to let him out once more
Kissed him on the head and told him I loved him ill pick him up around four
I’m at work drinking coffee just talked to my husband on the phone
Got at my desk started to work and the my office phone rung
It’s about 9:30 and it was Jaden’s school
I got the news he was dead and I started to puke
I’m crying uncontrollably don’t know my next move
My son is dead, I can’t believe this news
I hurried to the school in the best of my ability 
I saw the school surrounded by medics, reporters, and police
I ran to a officer and demanded to see my son
He said “I’m sorry ma’am” I can’t do this at this time
At 9:32 my one and only son Jaden was pronounced dead
The shooter was 20 and took my son’s life in his own hands
The questions continue to flow through my head as I search for answers
I don’t need answers I need my son and his laughter
I am now sitting on his bed trying to swallow tears
My husband holds me close as reality nears
My little boy is gone among the other 19 kids
Heaven has 20 new angels now I hope he knew how much I love him  as much as  I did

R.I.P
(To the innocent lives that were lost in the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting)
12-14-12



Details | I do not know? | |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Stop!

Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Listen!

Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Think!

Think of how you treat,

grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Act!

Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,

grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,

men,

all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!


Details | Rhyme | |

If You Were

If you were a penny, I’d keep you in my front pocket every day.
I’d shine and cleanse you daily, washing all troubles and woes away.
If you were a diamond ring, on my finger is where you’d stay.
I’d shine the stone feverishly, parting all frets and worries astray.

If you were a novel, I’d place you at the very front of the shelf,
I’d tear out the pages of misery, and swallow the depression myself.
If you were as free as a butterfly, I’d cup you within my hands.
I’d whisper all my secrets, then release you from all commands.

If you were a painting, I’d pose you directly over so all could see,
I’d dust away the tears and guilt, inhaling the particles inside of me.
If you were a bronze statue, I would polish you until you shined.
I’d scour away the torment, and any melancholy I should find.

If you were a flower, I’d pluck the petals of bane from your life,
I’d water and feed you frequently, nourishing the roots of strife.
If you were an eagle, I’d admire your rare beauty from above,
I’d watch you slowly soar into the horizon, taking with you,
my heart, my soul and love.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Box of Hope and Dreams

I keep my dreams and aspirations,
stored away neatly in this box.
Tied off with a pretty pink ribbon,
secured tightly with key and lock.

And every time I feel like a failure,
I open it, so I can again feel alive.
Arms of dreams tightly surround me,
giving me strength I need to survive.

I’ve hidden this box in a secret place,
where I’m the only who can see.
A beautiful box of hopes and dreams,
finely sewn with love at the seams.

This box is opened quite frequently,
especially when we’re apart –
this rhetorical box of memories,
in perfect synch with each beat of my heart


Details | Rhyme | |

Our Legacy

He is my fortress and my strength
His love he has proven at length
In times of sickness and in times of health
He has remained open not stealth.
In youth we loved passionately
With children we loved affectionately
In middle age we loved calmly
With age we love patiently.
Many decades we leave behind us
Yet a few decades remain ahead of us
We are free to say what is on our mind
Knowing we’ve survived the test of time.
When money we had little of 
When children were ill 
When we were hurt by family or friends – 
When one was ill, the other thrived
we held on
so neither was ever left behind.
This is the legacy we leave 
Not of a love that is divine
But of a love that has ridden the roller coaster ride
 And survived.


Details | I do not know? | |

For Anene Booysen 1996 - 2013

Hamba Kahle Anene Booysen! (1996 – 2013)


Dead at 17, brutally raped and left to die,
in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

‘horrific’, ‘repulsed’,
‘brutally raped’, ‘shocked’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left to die,

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

Anene was raped,
savagely mutilated,

 

Her 17 year old body tossed aside,

 

by the hands of men.

 

Men, always men,

 

cowardly, beastly, perverted, twisted men.

 

‘Beastly’, ‘perverted’, ‘twisted’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

who now lies cold and dead.

 

How many Anene Booysens will it take,

 

for us,
society,
families,
people,

 

human-beings,

 

and,

 

men, especially men,

 

to excise the ghastly menace,

 

of the heinous capacity that resides,

 

within men,

 

always men,

 

to brutalise, rape, mutilate, and murder.

 

‘Brutalise’, ‘murder’, ‘rape’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left,

 

to die,

 

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site,

 

in Bredasdorp.

 

 

Anene Booysen
(1996 – 2013)

 

* – Hamba Kahle – “Farewell, Travel Well” in Zulu

 

** – Bredasdorp is a small town near Cape Town, South Africa


Details | Free verse | |

Thanks, my Love

For all the sweet moments we've had together,
and many time our love seem to falter,
for many pains we've together borne,
and many gains that have accrued to our barns,
for standing by when the ground wanted to give way,
and the intensity of the sun seemed unbearable,
for those days I was a thorn in your soft flesh,
and you never chose to tear it away,
for thousands years ahead for us to dream,
and indulge in all our worldly treasure,
for all of these and many more to come,
I say thank you my love for being there for me.






16th Nov, 2012


Details | Rhyme | |

An Unforgiven Tune

Scanting, ranting, seething persona provides –
the confinement and hatred inside you hide.
Screaming, steaming, aggressive overtones –
provide a key witness of a relationship unknown.

Shivering, quivering, the innocent will crumble,
to a raving lunatic with a malicious mad stumble.
Convicted, addicted, to the same vindictive game,
this romance conceived within lies and shame.

Silently, violently, cursing the call of creation,
vowing to avenge this marital bond castration.
Pawing, gnawing, at an open bloody wound,
strumming, and humming life's unforgiving tune.


Details | Free verse | |

Tears of My Heart

if poop could be named anything what would you name it?  id name it bob and id make him sit on a log in a bog and say get out of here you hog that looks like fog from a bog thats near a log with bob sitting on it who attacked the wacking wackers with all his heart and shattered, he fell to the floor.  dont name your poop bob because then youll have tears in your heart.


Details | Rhyme | |

BARRETT AND BROWNING Runaway Lovers

RUNAWAY LOVERS

Sat Ba Barret restless in her room
Drinking death in dark and gloom
Tragedy seemed her last name
Despite the books that were her fame
Letters reached her by the score
But one kissed paper touched her core
Robert Browning made her wild
Exuberance flared—she was a child
A woman forty –heart on fire
Now she had but one desire
A partner for her life she sought
Her father raged—her brothers fought
And so she, in the dead of night
Began a journey—love’s mad flight
They wed with maid and cousin there
And off they sailed like on a dare
Tossed her frail and lifelong curse
Dared the gods to do their worst
She won the man and mated prize 
Found her reflection in his eyes
First night was a burst of tears
Maid was sent to soothe her fears
Downstairs help was all a twitter
Certain Ba was dry and bitter
Old maid and a cripple lass
With intellect none could surpass
Now she’s wed and this first night
What would happen—tup or fight?
Footmen bet on Browning luck—
Old maids were like sitting ducks
But when they saw dawn faces glow
Even shallow hearts did throw
A prayer that heaven smile on them
Such naked love sang out ‘Amen’.


Details | I do not know? | |

They Left so Abruptly

They Left so Abruptly

(for the countless South Africans, of all colours, who dedicated their lives for freedom and democracy)

the valiant ones
countless
many known
many more nameless

the truest sons and singers
husbands and poets
lovers and wives
daughters and farmers
workers and sisters
brothers and friends

they left so abruptly
with quiet pride
steely courage
gentle dignity

they left so abruptly
leaving us our tomorrows
brighter
hopeful
filled with promise

they left so abruptly
so that we may breathe
the breath of liberty
the air of freedom
the warmth of justice

they left so abruptly
leaving with us their parting gift

freedom
inkululeko
swatantrata
liberte
azadi
vhudilangi
libertad

they left so abruptly
yet we remember them all
today
in the days that slipped away
and in the many more that we await

they left so abruptly
yet they remain
hewed into our memories
etched in our consciences
engraved in our hearts
they left so abruptly
and yet they endure
with us
within us
now and forever more


Details | I do not know? | |

Passion in D-Major

Passion in D-Major


Feeling, the sensuous brush-
strokes on a canvas,

swirling,

to a symphonic crescendo,

of our shared heartbeats,

fading between the notes,

feeling your soft body entwined 
with mine,

your form bathed in my infinite 
kisses,

our orchestral desire rising,

conducting a shared fusing of 
passion,

... the music echoing ...

over the precipice,

on the brink of dazzling rainbow 
hues,

lost in the void,
of an eternal instant,

plunging through the depths of 
rhyme,

pleading,
forever pleading,

for a prolonged,

bouquet of shared time.


Details | I do not know? | |

What's That I See

My eyes glisten, as your presence fills them
inside my heart...Jumps
"Thump, Thump, Thump"
for you they dance, for loves beats rhythm

Love beats rhythm
Strong, powerful, with meaning
so crafted for us.
God's creation and His plan all along.

My hand grazes your beautiful face
My mind re-sculpturing  a masterpiece,
as I marvel at you, a pure work of art.
"Mmph, Mmph, Mmph"
I just love your feel,your touch, your look.
Heart, your next
It's you he took

Gladly and openly, I place my heart next to yours,
as they beat as one.
"Bump, Bump, Bump"
Love sounds beyond good
It sounds....Real, kismet, and in sync.

I knew all along, for God, yes  He did tell me
then yes he showed me. 
 Now he shows us.
Every wonderful day of our lives

I light up as you cross my vision.
Then when I see you in my mind,
heavens whispers...."Yes,yes,Yes"

My soul fuses your soul
Your soul fuses my soul
Our souls become one
"Shhh, Shhh, Hush"

Quiet pulses of rhythm
Music plays, hearts dance
Connection made!!

I see..... LOVE!!!!!!


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled in 1-27-90

I sat in a kind of wasted skin stupor and 
try to make sense of my reality idiom in pisces 
blue A minor sequence aqueoushumor blind sigh-ted
by a dubious passion to be a teacher of pious on
metaphors to go to the holy innocents of a yestertommorrow
I talk ramble by day of the slammer sociomenace 
while they glassed eyed park their sick l cells in  
unneutral and (in double park synapse in tow---let me catch an old
glimmer of naked frenzy-taut as a stretched, cracked
brittle rubber band praying for one last turnstretch to 
flipfly a higher band than the last cloud pattern, given 
to the raised eyebrows of montoya clammerings of hocus
pocus Jekyll/Hyde explosive endeavor trick or treats
without the brownwhite wrapper or the righteous look
pinch pout pocket of a boy dowell. Keep the false faith friends,


Details | Free verse | |

King David and my David

I knew a little shepherd boy,
handsome and full of courage.
He once slew a bear,
with a hand bare of weapon.
He had snuffed out the life of a lion,
And giants were toys he could break.
He was strong at heart and body
A man after God's heart he was.
Yet, he had his flaw,
and was weak as any man could be.
He once hewed coal on his chest,
and was burnt to the marrow thereof.
Though, great pardon he got when he repented,
yet, the scare was too much to fade.
Biblical King David is my hero indeed,
For I have learnt from his strength and weakness.
Another David now I have.
He is my hero and prince charming,
A kind and loving husband,
who can give out his precious eyes, 
for another to know the joy of seeing.



Details | Rhyme | |

HE WAS THERE

I know that there are some that still can't pray
and others that ask, 'Where was God that day?'
HE was there with each tear that's shed
as the news reported, There is thousands dead!'

HE was in the hyjacked planes so out of control
His angels collecting each passenger's soul!
HE was there at the buildings of the World Trade Center
with Heaven's gates wide open bidding all to enter!

HE was there in every tired body and grimy face
that refused to give in to another trying to take his place!
HE was there amongst every common place hero
who repeatedly dug through the rubble in New York's ground zero!


HE was there with the passenger's of Flight 74
whose sacrifice kept the enemy from the White House door!
HE was there with those that died at the Pentagon
when another plane flew into them like a bomb!

HE was there when thousands of passengers landed
unable to get home, so on Canadian soil they were stranded!
HE was there in the smiles of the Maritime youth
who came with blankets, fresh clothing and hot bowls of soup!

HE was there when the President cried out with pride
'This will only make us stronger, we have GOD on our side!'
HE was there when AMERICA was at Iraq's door
teaching the Taliban what happens when you provoke a war!

HE is there today as countless others reflect on the loss
just as HE watched HIS only Son die upon the cross!  HE WAS THERE!

©11/09/2012


Details | Blank verse | |

SUNSET OF THE DAY

Sunset starts with colors of vivid bright Gold
Striking up the kaleidescope of  colors of the blue,red,orange as it settles
Striking up awe for all to see, the bright clear color of oranges and reds and hues of blue
The magical vibrant colors of gold, red and blue of a day almost gone by
Watch as the sun goes behind us for the day, The rainbow of colors making our day

July 12, 2012


Details | Free verse | |

Lady Madness

Lady Madness how dost thou lie in mine bed?
How darest I allow thee upon my honor tread?
Fair Lady, Fair Madness, drop the dagger from the mind!
Remember once we were the honorable kind?
Oh how hath we slain the king? Lest some restless
worm eateth at thy brain?
My love, my dearest, I pushed thee though thou pushed me!
To hell with Hecate and her faces three!
I love the fair Lady!  Rest upon my cheek.
Perhaps you will return to sanity should you meet God in sleep.

Mary Evangeline