Mistress of deception,
as in victual monogamy.
A deceit of one’s perception,
without an irksome homily.
Mushrooms drop into a pot,
with peppers, once pureed.
Zucchini dance as they are tossed
amidst confetti of celery seed.
Onions sing out with Garlic,
part of the tomato cabaret.
They drop, sway, and frolic,
below the leaves of dried up bay.
A precipitation of spices,
fine herbs and hot chilies.
If omitted a possible crisis,
like the heel of Achilles.
Then a most decisive stroke,
wheat pasta hits the stage.
With every furtive jab and poke…
Spaghetti is still the rage!
Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald | Year Posted 2012
Two little sparks
enlightening the dark
(tidal waves tugging on the heart)
One named Amelia, the other Aurora:
Completing the scenery --- fauna and flora.
But Borealis, she has no stake in the matter,
for she is just a melancholy rainbow
in comparison --- to the flames that ignite
your very being ... all the while you take pleasure in the heat,
being warmed by their joy and curiosity.
Go ahead and draw lines in the sand
(they will jump over them with glee)
And simultaneously have you giggling
at their tenacity.
Two little sparks
through the woods they embark
(one look at their eyes --- and there goes my heart)
Playing hide 'n' seek with the two of them
they disappear (and re-appear) just like fireflies in June.
Dotting the intrepid pathways like sparkles, like magic.
(the fact they'll one day grow up ... it's rather tragic)
Why can't they stay little forever and touch the ceiling
by riding on my shoulders?
Why not stay brittle so I can be protective --- instead like all things
you must grow older.
For now though Oh for now!
It's nothing but a pipe-dream
in the wakefulness of day.
Youthful energy can't be contained
much like quarantine flame.
(and between you and me
that's an accurate analogy)
Between these two firebrands -
who could dare understand
what it means to be an uncle
... with the capriciousness of "one of the gang",
and the loving care of a parent.
And who could dare contemplate
this here man's tragic fate:
living next door to the both of them
with no fire blanket.
One's not even walking (the other barely talking)
And while that may seem rather shocking
nieces have that power
to play with your emotions like staccato raindrops
on that big ole blue
they call the ocean.
These flames aren't dying low (not even close)
but only gaining momentum like a lightning strike in a forest:
a thousand popping pine cones re-seeding into infinity.
(And did I say divinity? That too)
They be in competition for my love
like the tug-a-war moon.
It's the kind of game where everyone wins
and it's never too soon ...
... for one more go round.
Written March 9th, 2016
For the Twin Flames Contest Hosted by Nayda Ivette Negron
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016
Pulled himself to the very top
Looked over the world on high
Felt the warm and stirring breeze
falling from the sky
Knowing this was how it felt
to soar above the land
To feel so safe away from things
so free to be alive
Yet down the pole we all must come
to touch the very ground
This is where we laugh and play
gives us what we need
The loving smile of a young girl's face
a women's tender care
For up above the pole to fly
is nothing but the air
But on the soil we grow and live
to reach out, to touch, to give
So keep your feet upon the ground
take a good long look around
and see if flying above the pole
isn't like living in a hole
from where you never see
the reaching hands pulling you down
pulling you down to be
Copyright © Elinore Carney | Year Posted 2005
Hey there, brother
this one is for you
for all the times you’ve blamed me
for the things I didn’t do
hey there, brother
this one is for you
hey there, brother
it’s been awhile
I’d give you a great big hug
but we both know that’s not your style
hey there, brother
it’s been awhile
hey there, brother
how have you been
you haven’t invited me to hang with you lately
just give me a call and tell me when
hey there, brother
how have you been
hey there, brother
you’re the best I’ll ever know
you’ve showed me unconditional love
and you’ve taught me how to grow
hey there, brother
you’re the best I’ll ever know
hey there, brother
this one is for you
I love watching you move through life
and can’t wait to see all the things you’ll do
hey there, brother
this one is for you
Copyright © Rachel Wyngarden | Year Posted 2015
When I looked up at you the other night
I saw you coming through the door
Framing it with your amazing smile
steadfast, self assured, a happy man
A happy Dutch life with Irish sea-kissed roots
Not just a European but a world class man
As you stood before me, I felt such pride.
When I think of you, I see my little boy blue
Forever young, blond mop, those winsome sky eyes
my spry child, intelligent, forever questioning
hyperactive, mischievous, a little dare devil
your smile, a mile wide in times of trouble
I see you holding your teddies Ruby and Rupert
Tractors, diggers, broken engines brrrrrrrmm.
Your love of engines, paid off after all
as you shifted gear to driving instruction
For a guy who showed no interest in being a scholar
Now you are the teacher, with a flurry of pupils
I think it works better, this way around.
Your greatest gift is your love for people
Your greatest asset, your winning smile
Keep on living and loving as you do
You view life through a positive lens
Becoming a mother hit me with a new perspective
An appreciation of life, when I gave you yours
Together we grew, and continue to grow
In love and respect, now and forever.
Copyright © Eiken Laan | Year Posted 2011
Dedicated to every young man bestowed the honor of wearing
the glorious Oklahoma Sooners' Crimson & Cream
Over sixty years, boy and man, I have been a Sooners fan;
And always hoped to be among the truest in the stands.
And while I don’t remember all the Players’ names,
They’re my Heroes, each and every one, because they play the game.
When they’re on the field of battle, my Sooners surely give their all;
And when they’re on the sidelines, just waiting for a Coach’s call;
Visions of Glory must be dancing in their heads;
The Glory of the moment and our cheers, the Glory of playing for
the mighty Big Red.
And for those Sooners who rarely played, whose names were
known only by a few,
Make no mistake my friend, each of them is my Hero too.
Like Soldiers waiting in the ranks, but never called to fight,
They ‘re ready and they’re willing, their spirit and their sacrifice
add to Big Red’s might.
I stand in awe of Sooner Magic. No, I never doubt it.
My Sooners could have never won so many Championships without it.
But don’t misunderstand when I say Sooner Magic won those games;
It was Sooners players who, once again, rose to the occasion and
glorified the name.
Sixty years of college football and my Sooners have won the most.
Their fierce pride and performance inspire this simple toast:
“My Sooners Team goes on and on, different faces, different names;
But my Heroes, Each and Every one, for win or lose…
They play the game.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
I confided with The Jeweler
I want a masterpiece
A wonder to the modern world
Where joy will never cease
He said he’d start with umber
A rich, golden shade of brown
use it from the very start
create a special crown
Next, sparkle from His diamonds
He used them from within
Distributed them quite liberally on
Her eyes, her smile, her skin
Oh yes she will be special
A jewel the world will love
treasure made with so much heart
They’ll know she’s from above
She shall be known as Ceci
Because she is to be
perfection of a young lady
like your sister is to Me
He said I know just what I’ll do
To make your crown the best
I have special method
Pulled from the family crest
There’s never been anything like her
nor will there ever be;
I’ve taken the spirit of her aunt
Your dear sister as you can see
You know she was quite special
That’s why I called her home
but I wanted you to be blessed
so praise Me with a poem
a tribute to My creation
a gift to all the world
although I blessed you with 2 boys
I gave you just one girl
I did one other special thing
To set this child apart
I gave her something special
A piece of The Jeweler’s heart
I have filled her with compassion
She will be the downtrodden’s friend
She will always be a guiding light
Yes this is who I will send
Sometimes at night, you will hear her
As you lay there in the dark
this lil' Gem sing Me praises
A gentle meadowlark
A champion for all children
Inspiring, encouraging all
She embarked upon this journey
She already heard my call
So always, treat her special,
let her know I care
you see she is My masterpiece
A jewel that is quite rare.
A tribute on her 17th Birthday
Copyright © jeff eklund | Year Posted 2012
Leave me the hell alone she cries
Inside her aching head
I've had much more than I can take
Sometimes I feel I'm dead
Oh shepherd don't your flock forsake
Alone on Calvarys Hill
How much can a body take
When your mind has had its fill
A light so bright and hopeful
A picture perfect birth
A world of wonder, laid before
This seedling of the earth
To nurture's but a wistful dream
A momentary lapse
A father wrapped up in himself
A mom lost in her past
Can harm I do while wishing
The Angels gentle hands
Embrace this failing empty shell
This web of empty strands
A love of love itself it seems
Of passion and desire
Turns Sailors into monsters
And Mothers into liars
What makes a wonder wonderful
What makes a blessing blessed
'Tis you alone we come to know
When not so self- obsessed
Lord, help us not to lose your light
And wallow in the dirt
And help instead to nurture
All we're given at our birth
A wish alone can guide us
If truth is what we seek
Protect the weak and hungry
The burdened and the meek
Lord, make me strong enough to show
The children in my care
Their path is guided by your light
Their Souls are in your care
Copyright © peter walsh | Year Posted 2014
On the wings of two angles I was brought into this world…
My mother and father I’ve called them since I first spoke,
To their arms I ran when I first walked…
When my heart was not calm
Their love would come…
When no one believed
They saw what others couldn’t see
When I would cry
With a calm sigh they would smile
And the whole world would stop and the pain would die…
They taught me to not lie…
They taught me to be human…
On the wings of two angels I was brought into this world…
My mother…her beauty puts the stars to shame….
My father…his heart stronger than all the men that walk among us…
I thank my lord for giving me
The biggest treasure on this world,
Love that is clearly out of this world…
Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2013
the matriarch is the oldest female head of a family
and I'm so elated that God has preserved this position for me
I've lived a life that has been almost four scores
and I've seen what my people have had to endure
as I stand here today I'm a living testimony
of the goodness the Lord Our God has given to me
now surrounded by several generations of my loving descents
as the matriarch for me this moment is heaven-sent
to my sons, my daughters, my grands, my cousins and all of my kin
I'm so joyful that I'm able to have this reunion with you once again
may the Lord continue to grant us grace and bless each and everyone
and I pray that I'll see you all next year for my living is not done
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2009
When I looked at you last week trying on your new boots
Those almond eyes sparkling at something new, a gift
I saw my little pink girl, a princess, playing dress up again
Your long hair draped your high cheekbones
Life still a game, tinged with drama and theatre
As you look for fun in all your pursuits!
A player in life with a passion for cooking and music
You have become a kind, loyal, vivacious young woman
Self assured, grounded with a love of tradition
I looked at you and felt an overwhelming pride.
Sunday’s child is ' bonny, blithe, good and gay' they say
Befitting my Sabbath girl, a model child of few demands
Your bedroom a vast sea of Barbie and friends
A Passion for story-time and books
Your Dutch life with Irish sea-touched roots,
You are a real continental
A great scholar with degrees in Law and Psychoanalysis
You have found your true love with Luis, a Spaniard
As you both prepare to leave the Emerald Isle
I wonder at the achievement of you!
Copyright © Eiken Laan | Year Posted 2011
It seems the angels were singing a song,
And their melody pleased God’s ears;
Singing of to whom such love belong,
They could subdue all pain and fears.
He asked them about who became
Possessed of a kind of love so grand.
He was told of the sweetest mortal name
That ever satisfied the hearts of man.
The dear name “Mother” God then heard,
It giving sound to the throb of His heart,
As if such a title was that preferred,
And such a figure so honored in classic art.
My own dear mother was second to none,
And enjoys her deserved Elysian rest.
Thus since down from heaven came the Son,
Her role and function is eternally blessed.
Copyright © Albert Price | Year Posted 2011
The"tail" I have to tell, starts off really sad.
My sweet doggie Murphy died and my heart, it hurt so bad.
Until one day in early spring, I got a call that made my heart sing!
There were some puppies born in Waco, the daddy -Jasper, and mommy- Juneau.
Four little boys, three little girls. But the picture of one boy, made my heart twirl!
So I waited for a week or two, to meet my little puppy-oh so new!
I named him Humphrey, such a handsome boy! He has brought laughter back and oh what a joy! He's super cute, and very smart. Many would say, he's a work of art!
He's learning new tricks, and how to potty outside. So many rules to learn and abide!
Humphrey is growing so quickly, the puppy breath will soon disappear. He will be an adult in less than a year! Every stage of his life is a blessing from above. I guess that's the true meaning of what we call "puppy love".
Copyright © Meghan Palmer | Year Posted 2013
THE GRUMBLE FAMILY
There's a family nobody likes to meet;
They live, it is said, on Complaining Street
In the city of Never-Are-Satisfied,
The River of Discontent beside.
They growl at that and they growl at this;
Whatever comes, there is something amiss;
And whether their station be high or humble,
They are all known by the name of Grumble.
The weather is always too hot or cold;
Summer and winter alike they scold.
Nothing goes right with the folks you meet
Down on that gloomy Complaining Street.
They growl at the rain and they growl at
In fact, their growling is never done.
And if everything pleased them, there isn't
They'd growl that they'd nothing to grumble
But the queerest thing is that not one of the
Can be brought to acknowledge his family
For never a Grumbler will own that he
Is connected with it at all, you see.
The worst thing is that if anyone stays
Among them too long, he will learn their ways;
And before he dreams of the terrible jumble
He's adopted into the family of Grumble.
And so it were wisest to keep our feet
From wandering into Complaining Street;
And never to growl, whatever we do,
Lest we be mistaken for Grumblers, too.
Let us learn to walk with a smile and a song,
No matter if things do sometimes go wrong;
And then, be our station high or humble,
We'll never belong to the family of Grumble!
Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2014
Family, the enemy of our souls wants us to believe
The lie that we are alone
He wants us to believe
That we are treading hopeless road
But the cloud witnesses who urge us on
Tell us another story
The road we tread with light and beauty and fellowship
My friends, we are never alone
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2012
BLACK MAN BLACK BROTHER STAND PROUD AND BE TALL, IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO LEAVE THOSE PRISON WALLS.
IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO TEACH OUR YOUNG MEN HOW TO BE A FATHER AND A MAN,
BLACK MAN BLACK BROTHER STAND PROUD AND BE TALL, GOD GAVE YOU THE WISDOM AND THE KNOWLEDGE AND UNDERSTANDING THAT'S WHY YOU ARE BEING REPRIMANDED,
BLACK MAN BLACK BROTHER IT'S TIME TO LEAVE THOSE PRISON WALLS
BLACK MAN BLACK BROTHER STAND PROUD AND BE TALL.
THE TIME HAS COME FOR YOU TO GET IT TOGETHER, BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T YOU WILL BE LOST FOREVER,
BLACK MAN BLACK BROTHER STAND PROUD, BE TALL,
IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO LEAVE THOSE PRISON WALLS.
GIVE GOD THE GLORY, FOR THESE ARE THE LAST DAYS, DON'T BE ASHAMED TO GIVE HIM PRAISE, HE'S GIVING YOU A CHANCE TO REACH OUT TO HIM, DON'T BE AFRAID OR YOU'LL EITHER SINK OR SWIM.
SO MY BROTHERS, IT'S TIME TO LEAVE THOSE PRISON WALLS
BLACK MAN BLACK BROTHER STAND PROUD AND BE TALL
THIS IS DEDICATED TO ALL THE BROTHERS IN PRISONS AND TIME TO COME HOME
Copyright © cynthia scales | Year Posted 2012
One fine morning, in early July,
A key opened a door that was locked-bye and bye
No notice, no call, no fateful warning
Uncle Frank walked in, unannounced, at eight in the morning
Lo and behold, the occupant was awoken
Some deep and recognized voice had spoken
Heading toward the voice, with sleep in his eyes
Robby said, "Uncle Frank! What a surprise!"
"Well, I'm feeling fat and a little shaken.
I'm afraid that yesterday I ate too much bacon.
May I please use Grandma's old bathroom scale?
Ever since her funeral, I feel like a whale.
With a shake of his head and a polite, "No."
Robby said, "You gonna wake up my ho.
A princess of mine is sleeping fair
So go ****ing weigh yourself in your own god damn lair."
Copyright © Jennifer Young | Year Posted 2014
It’s that time of year again...
When family and friends gather together..
To share and give thanks for all that they treasure..
The young and the old, the tall and the small..
The Vegans and the Carnivores, come one come all...
There are dishes of tradition, like Turkey and stuffing..
Mashed potatoes, gravy, and cranberry muffins..
Green Bean casserole, and corn soufflé...
Are just some of the dishes of the day....
And of course a relish tray to take off the edge...
With that awesome Spinach dip in Pumpernickel bread...
So many desserts at this time of year...
But the favorite of all , synonymous of the Fall..
Is that Jack’O ‘Lantern, orange Gourd.....
known as Pumpkin Pie...
As the children play a game of touch football...
Something that is 24-7 on this day in Fall..
As Grandpa sits in the afternoon sun...
Remembering back ..when he was young...
Then the words of “ Let’s eat “ fills the air...
And everyone sits down in their chair..
Who wants the first slice ? Dark meat or White ?
Grandpa asks...then proceeds to take the first bite..
Everyone fills their plate, till it can’t hold no more...
Yet some go back, for more and more....
Finally everyone is full...can’t eat another bite..
Till the smell of fresh coffee brings on a plight...
Aahh dessert ..and the best part of all....
“ PUMPKIN PIE “ !!!! ....It appears was a "Majority Call"...
This is “ my “ favorite time of the year....
When you mention "MY" name, everyone gives a cheer !!!
So without further adieu ...Grandpa picks up the knife...
As I am the “ MAJORITY CALL “ and receive the first slice....
Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013
Ode To A Dead Apple
Oh poor Dan what can we say
He’s had such bad news delivered today
His Apple Mac that’s virus free
As expensive and speedy as can be.
To do your work is such a breeze
Bug free it does not catch a sneeze
But what the Apple people did not do
Was protect it from the likes of you
Your Apple Mac that you so love
Is put to rest and looks down from above.
The death of your Mac is hard to take
Don’t do anything stupid for goodness sake
It was tired with all the work you do
And sleepy just like De and you
But listen to some advice that’s free
Never give it any more coffee or tea.
To my poor Nephew that has spilled a mug of Coffee and Killed his Mac
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012
An Ode To LIFE
As I lay my head down and start to fall asleep I see myself being carried off to a place and time the place of our Lords birth in Bethlehem of Judea
As in the Bible tells the story of His life and how he lived and died in that human seance and rose on the day He told of
I do not remember being here but I remember the story I was taught so many years ago
As I walk through the streets of Bethlehem I see each scene and hear every word as I am learning the story they telling is true
The writer writes of a jealous King and his way of dealing with his people and of Mary and Joseph who came to Bethlehem to have a child
The story tells of the three wise men who saw a star in the north and heard of a child who was born to be the King of the Jews and come to see and bring Him gifts
An angel from the Heavens above came to Mary and Joseph in a dream and told them they had to leave Bethlehem or King Herod would have their son killed
So they left Bethlehem and went to Egypt and there they lived until King Herod no longer ruled
As I follow along in my dream I see each scene and hear every word as I am puzzled by the fact I understand each
I don’t understand why I’m going through this time but I know I must continue on this journey
As I am pulling through a time where I reach the place of Jesus’ in Nazareth of Galilee
As I watched Him grow and work in His father's shop I could see the thing in Him that were with me
As I walk along the streets and look around I hear the people talk of a child that speaks of wondrous love that’s all forgiving and of a Father in Heaven that’s loving and true.
By Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Inspired by God
Copyright © Rev. Dr. Samuel Mack | Year Posted 2013
I Have A God
Woken up by a mellifluous music never heard before,
Made me wonder, was I in the kingdom of Orpheus ?
Or was it the orchestra of heavenly maidens?
I open'd my eyes after honey'd slumber,
Blind'd by sparkling silver and blazing gold
Of a goldsmiths treasure trove.
I walk'd step by step on the cloudy floor
Feeling the weightlessness of my heavy shoulders.
Much had I been overwrought by mortal burden,
And heaved a sigh at this fanciful world.
Above the lands, above the seas,
Above the mountains had I obliviously reached.
In the realms of dreams I smiled,
And swirled my glittery gown.
The gods had been kind for this Elysian ecstasy
Loud shout'd I my gratitude to the Almighty,
If this be divinity I ask for no more
Before me stood my creator in all his luminosity and spoke,
You call'd me child and I your servant be,
No more pain, no more misery,
No more desire, no more passion shall ever feel.
Your soul in my palm will be, your vesture rested on the ground.
Down look you on earth,the towering inferno has turned you to smithereens.
Your love is here,
And here begin we a life afresh.
He point'd his big finger down, once again.
There on earth your treasures lie,
The fray is on and many will die.
For centuries have they fought and for centuries will they continue,
Your abode be here for all times to come,
Fret not you, for I be here.
Spoke I to God,
A dream this were not, for I am sure.
What treasures do I yearn? What passions do I crave?
What pain? What misery you speak of when I your only audience be?
My raptures the world knows not of,
For too entangled is the diseased world,
Of attachments and detachments.
Much to their envy am I filled with pride,
My journey has not ended,
With you by my side it has just newly begun.
November 26, 2015
Contest: I went To Heaven
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015
When I stand on the Hills and stare down,
while milky sunbeams shine asound,
I admire the grace with which spreads
my Village, its glories and innocence.
Oh my Village! that valley wherein I first kicked,
That place where I first experienced my birth,
That Paradise where the birds play and cling
While happy children cuddle and sing.
That Valley wherein I ate Irish Potatoes
Drank sweet palm wine and ran wild,
Where I savoured sweet achu,
hunted rat mole. Oh! life so pure!
Oh, my sweet grandmother and father!
They raised me to love this sweet land.
They told me one morning as I stretched-
"Mowi, yu'u, there is no better place than home."
Now I understand while I behold the radiance,
The opulence of this village Politicians want to steal,
Politicians and leaders so neglect-
But I say to them, "you are wicked, wicked!"
"If there is a place that is home to me,
Where I will love to grow and make square,
Where I'll love to hug and bless
It is my village Bamendankwe."
Copyright © Gerald Nforche | Year Posted 2013
There've been times in my life
where I've just had to say,
"I must, give it all up,
for, it's that kind of day"!
I must, really say this
I really, just must;
if I didn't say it,
then, it wouldn't be, "just".
There's this crazy, old man
we'll just call him, "Doc";
who fills up blank pages
with, "poetical talk".
He's scribbled, and scrabbled
'til way, past bed-time,
trying to finish each poem
and, complete every rhyme.
If he hadn't done this
he'd surely gone, "mad",
his nonsensical nature
was, all that he had!
No hidden agenda
when first, he wrote down,
each poem of nonsense
to erase a childs' frown.
And, Doc always did this
..so that , all of his poems
were merely geared, to amuse.
He loved to let nonsense
be the order of the day,
and, with every poem
we all smiled, the same way.
His only intention
was to set our minds, "free",
his style, just did it
With his own tongue, in cheek
we knew we'd been had,
and his poems rhymed perfectly
proving he was no, "fad"!
The volumes of topics
that Doc's written of,
included all that could be
written.....below, and above.
He's written of magic,
puzzles, and games...
..with, strange little creatures,
with, strange little, "names".
The, crazier his story,
the saner he'd feel,
and, the more that we heard
convinced us they were, "real"!
His poems, were genius
as he weaved us, a tale;
with, nonsensical rhymes
that did so, without..."fail".
"Old Doc", has quit writing
he's up in heaven,
this year, his birthday'd ...
make him, a hundred, and seven!
He's given advice,
taught what we must do,
he said, "Be who you are...
..no-one's youer, than....you!"
He's maybe still writing
in, heaven....you see,
that'd be just like him
as, that's who he must, be!
That, silly old doctor...
..as silly, as a goose;
we all loved his poems,
for, we loved Dr. Seuss!
Copyright © david goodwin | Year Posted 2012
It was just around mid-morning
I recall exactly what I was doing
The feeling felt all too familiar
The vibe was peculiar
I had that unmistakable hunch
I guessed what was nigh, the crunch
My phone rang, not once but twice
I was tempted to let it beep thrice
But nay, not on this day, not today
The news that came crushed my Sunday
Dad had passed on, Dad was no more
I cried not but my heart tore and felt sore
My life had instantaneously changed
A novel void had just been created
Mum would be all alone
Save for six sons loving her to the bone
We will not despair but hang together
Duty bound to take care of our mother
It’s a sad sight to see the family deteriorate
But dad's life gave us something to emulate
He granted us, his children a chance in life
He always was very faithful to one wife
He taught us well till the age of seventy three
Now who will be the new root for our family tree?
We have uncles and aunts, cousins and nieces
But no one to properly anchor the jumbled pieces
Without him, we are but lost and fragmented
We are like a team dismayed and all so disjointed
We’re gradually losing a generation
That’s why I cry for my true champion
My hero, my idol, role model, my icon
Dad, there is nothing that I wouldn’t do
Just to spend another day with you
Copyright © John Pen | Year Posted 2014
We always leave some things
But not hopes and dreams
We always hold on tight
On to the shining light
Tell the future "here I come"
Until we all had a bump
Families wait all night
To see us shine so bright
Years went on and on
We cry in showers of tears of a song
"Family, we will come back"
"Until the years goes full in my sack"
Copyright © Tiffany Pham | Year Posted 2015
Six years now and the seasons keep changing,
people keep aging, the sun rises and sets, and
your pictures are beginning to grow yellow with age.
She grows tall, brilliant, beautiful, proud – like you.
You would really like her, too; she’s singularly unique,
proudly her own person and with a sense of humor
you would cherish and appreciate.
I hope you look in on her from time to time to nudge
her in the right direction when she’s lost, or to comfort
her in the dead of night when she’s in pain
and just needs comfort.
You’re talked of often and always thought of;
Time will never diminish your impact.
Though time may tarnish your pictures
it shall never diminish the beauty you put in them.
You are eternally young and sorely missed.
Six years or six thousand …
You are with us always.
Copyright © Anthony Amero | Year Posted 2016
Today you shower little faces with kisses
Piggy back rides and little messes....
Tomorrow you speak from your infinite wisdom
Your prayer is heard deep from within
Even though we may giggle
We love that you know and love Jesus.
You let me drive your old truck in the pasture
Laughed till you peed when the chair fell backwards
Love freely, laugh often and give generously what you have
Grandparent days are too short but cheerished!
Love those GRandparents!!
Mine are the Grandest of the grands!
***To all the Grandparents out there in the soup pool.
Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2011
Behold there she lay peacefully,
covered in warmth quite meticulously.
Her snow white eyes blinked,
as she sought to establish the place.
A smile warm as the sun rays,
from her lit up our hearts.
Ebony black hair atop her head,
her face beaming with joy.
A priceless gift to us all,
from our maker the overall.
We wish countless fortunes,
upon this little angel.
That the fountain of blessings,
may well over her life.
To always live in His favour,
for all times and seasons due.
Copyright © ian munywe | Year Posted 2015
Seems it stood there all the time
her good piano ~ church now closed,
she used to sing her songs in rhyme
made church folks happy, in the rows.
The years went on ~ church once so gay,
for Indians, preaching love and truth,
the cafeteria, filled with food
in gatherings weekly, old and youth!
New folks came in ~ they disagreed,
soon land was bartered, no reprieve,
Janell's piano, left behind,
folks ventured on with their remind.
How long it stood, I just don't know
the sign in front, said "We're just closed",
a family fortress, her folks old
now no one else could bear the load!
Just signed it over ~ bigger group,
a year or two, then no one came,
a handful made the Sunday loop
'til just a few, still not the same!
Why is it, when a church is meant
to change unrest to Godly scope,
brave persons with deliverance sent
become deceitful, losing hope!
. . . . . . . . but wait . . . . . . . .
Tucked in the hills, yet hardly seen
except for one lone light, kept lit
could see it from the highway's glean
was smallest church that faith could fit!
First Indian church, ministry sown
with vigils, reservation's pace,
no carpet, curtains, sagging down
cracks gave the mice some interface!
Been closed down a might you see
the same as uptown, but hardly
as prominent, still the Indians went
when it was open, their God sent!
Older piano, maybe in State
playing hymns mostly Sunday
in local antique shop's equate,
with lots of things, sold for funding!
New ministers, with their Indian root,
determined to begin just there,
guitars, and crosses, simple ways
back from Virginia, heart's aware!
Attending at the closed down church
I gave this new group one more try,
after six months a newness came
ages of church don't qualify!
And only couple weeks ago,
a new piano was in front
they said "donated" was there more?
I asked ~ Janell's stood on their floor!
I wondered had she kept her word
to serve those that her parent's could
believe she did ~ she understood
their merits were in grace, not wood!
Copyright © Paula Larson | Year Posted 2012
Little sibling don't you weep
We'll be together again some day
Close your eyes;go to sleep
It'll all soon be o.k
The longing for you stabbed me deep
Very soon I'll be on your way...
For us to be together like the old golden days
Now don't you fear,don't you cry,wipe those tears off your face
I have th faith that everything will soon go back to place
Mama wants you to be an ace
Make her smile;prove the world that you're not a broken vase
Face the sky, worship God
He's our most devoted guard
United or apart we will forever be...
Part of our family
With our blood in pain
Together,we will surely stop this rain
And all of us will once again
Live in harmony in our torn domain
Aunt, mom, our cousins and dad
Always wanted us to have the life they never had
Their past was very sad
But they brought us up well, for that,we must be glad
Thou the family is torn apart
The hope for a better future will never leave my heart
Aunt always said:"The good day will come"
So let's be on the guard for the rise of that morning's sun.
S. Nuno Pereira
Copyright © Stefanus Nuno Pereira | Year Posted 2012